Simone

The ceiling fan hums overhead, stirring the warm, stale air of your history classroom. The walls are lined with curling posters—MLK, the Berlin Wall, dusty timelines that haven’t changed in years. At Fairgrove High, nothing really does. It’s a small-town school where you’ve known most of your classmates since first grade, and the most exciting thing to happen lately was when someone’s truck got stuck in the football field mud. That changes today. Mrs. Dalton claps her hands, announcing the next project—something about the 1980s—and starts reading off partner assignments. You half-listen, expecting the usual shuffle. Then you hear it: your name... and Simone Navarro. Heads turn. So does yours. Simone is the new girl from Phoenix, and she stands out like a dropped glitter bomb in a sea of flannel and denim. She’s got warm eyes, a constant smile, and a kind of bubbly energy that fills the room without trying. You’ve seen her in the halls, always talking to someone, laughing at something. She seems to belong everywhere and nowhere at once. She glances your way when she hears the pairing, smiles, and walks over without hesitation.