"Can we talk? Just for a sec?"
She stood there, backpack slung low, eyes steady. I nodded before I could think of a reason not to.
My stomach had already started to twist.
Kyra didn't sit right away. She lowered her bag and stayed standing like she wasn't sure how close to get.
What does she see? Did I say something weird? Look wrong?
She was still staring a little too carefully. My fingers fidgeted on their own.
"I'm sorry if this is weird," she said gently. "I just... saw you and something clicked."
I looked down at my hands. My thumb traced a seam on my sleeve while the other fingers folded up. Tight.
"You said you're new, right?"
"Yeah."
"First year?"
I nodded. I didn't trust my voice yet.
She tilted her head to the side slightly. "I'm in second. Thought you looked a little younger than me."
I flinched, younger. I didn't know how to take that.
Is that a good thing? Did that mean she didn't recognize me?
"Did you move here recently or...?"
"Kind of, we've been moving around a bit."
She nodded as if it made sense. It didn't, but I guess it sounded normal enough.
"Where are you from?"
"Up north," I said. "Not that far from here."
"Did you go to St. Mathias by chance, the one with the mural?"
The way she asked it made my skin crawl. It felt a little too casual.
"No," I said quickly. "Never heard of it."
There was a long pause.
"You just remind me of someone I used to know."
I swallowed hard.
Still, she didn't sound certain. She was watching me... but not like she knew. Like she was still figuring it out.
Could she really not be sure?
It hadn't occurred to me before now. I thought she'd recognize me the second she saw me. But maybe… maybe I really did look different enough. Different voice and a different build. My face was softer and rounder. Even my hair was longer now.
Do I look that changed?
She sat beside me. Not close, but enough that I felt it.
"Sorry. I'm probably making this awkward."
"It's fine."
It wasn't. My pulse was too high and my thoughts were too loud.
What if I slip? What if I say something only he would know?
"You ever pull a fire alarm by accident? Like... in front of the whole cafeteria?"
I blinked, feeling my body tense.
She gave a crooked grin. "I had this friend. Sixth grade. Guy couldn't leave anything crooked alone. So we're at lunch, and there's this huge banner sagging on one side. He grabs a broom to fix it... and ends up smacking the fire alarm instead."
I froze for a second. That... sounded familiar.
"He freaked out. Whole school evacuated. Principal nearly had a heart attack. And he just stands there like, 'Well the banner's straight now.'"
I felt a breath hitch in my chest, and for a second I thought I might laugh.
Kyra leaned forward a little. "His shoes squeaked every time he ran. Like cartoon loud."
That did it. A short breath escaped. Quiet, but she caught it.
She grinned like she'd won something. "Yeah. You know the type."
I looked away, but I couldn't help it. A smile pulled at the edge of my mouth.
"He was good at getting himself into trouble, but always for weird reasons. Never mean, just... dumb and sweet."
My throat tightened.
Wow, that really was me.
"I think I hoped you were him," she said, a little quieter now. "But maybe you're not."
She didn't say it with disappointment. Just... acceptance.
"I guess I just miss the way it felt being around him."
Me too.
I didn't say anything. I couldn't. Because if I spoke, it might sound too much like I remembered, and I wasn't sure I could lie anymore.
She didn't press. Just leaned back and looked up like she was letting the moment pass.
"Selma seems like a good friend."
"She is," I said.
"She makes it feel like things won't fall apart even when they're already kind of cracked."
"Yeah."
"Zahra's intense."
"She's like that with everyone. It means she cares."
"And Hana?"
I huffed a breath. "She's basically a storm in a hoodie. Swears she's not dramatic, but she narrates her life out loud."
Kyra laughed. "She introduced herself to me while sneezing. I'm still not sure if it counted."
"She probably thinks it was iconic."
"She'd be right."
We both smiled. The tension in my shoulders hadn't vanished, but it wasn't crushing me either.
"You've already got people," she said.
"Sort of."
"I haven't clicked with anyone. It's like everyone's already grouped off. Like I missed sign-ups."
I glanced at her.
She looked down at her hands, fiddled with a bracelet on her wrist. "My mom's a teacher. Which is... fine, except every school I've ever gone to, she's already known half the staff. They all have these stories about me from when I was, like, five. It's hard to feel like you're not already someone in their head."
She smiled a little, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"I used to be really into student council stuff. But last year got messy. Some drama with a friend group. I kind of stepped back."
Her voice dropped a bit. "And now I feel like I stepped back too far."
I nodded. "That makes sense."
"It's weird," she said. "Sometimes you do everything right and still end up outside the circle."
There was a pause. Then she added, "I guess I just wanted something familiar," and paused again. "But you're not him."
My chest ached, but I nodded slightly.
"That's okay," she said again.
She turned toward me. "Can we start over? Just... from scratch?"
I hesitated.
"I'd like to be friends," she added. "Not because of who you remind me of. Just because I think I'd like knowing you."
My hands had stopped fidgeting again. That's how I knew I meant it.
"...Okay," I said. "Yeah."
Her smile was real. Not wide, not showy. Just... warm.