The teacher went on, “But here’s the twist—you’ll be working with a partner.”

Just like that, Nina slumped back in her chair, groaning under her breath.
Of course.

Tristen rubbed his forehead. Partners. That always meant being the unwanted extra in a group, or the kid no one listened to.

The teacher shuffled the cards, calling names. One by one, pairs were made. The room filled with cheers, groans, and whispered negotiations.

Finally:
“Nina Mondragón… and Tristen Albright.”

The room quieted.

Nina froze mid-pencil tap.
Tristen blinked.

Of all the people in the room, her?
Of all the people in the room, him?

Neither spoke. But both felt the tiniest shift inside, like the start of something neither of them could name yet. A project about imaginary friends—with a partner who might just understand what it feels like to not quite fit in.

The bell rang before they had the chance to react, leaving the thought hanging in the air like an unopened letter.