𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐑𝐃 | DEREK HALE

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The first day back at school was a yawning journey through monotony.

Nothing of note occurred; it was a relentless parade of syllabus after syllabus. Each class seemed to blend into the next, a procession of teachers outlining the same rules and expectations.

The highlight of the day was perhaps the final bell, signalling the end of this prolonged session of academic formalities.

As students filed out of classrooms, the collective sentiment was one of relief rather than excitement, with the hope that subsequent days would bring a more stimulating academic experience.

Having been involved in competitive horse riding, Cindy chose to observe her two best friends from the bleachers during their lacrosse practice.

Scott and Stiles weren't particularly skilled players, leaving everyone to ponder how they managed to make the team.

Did Coach Finstock lose a bet?

Was he being coerced by someone who cared about Scott and Stiles?

These were plausible explanations.

All Cindy could do was be a supportive friend from the sidelines and cheer them on—once they were picked to play.

Unfortunately, the noisy atmosphere prevented her from diving into a book, which was disappointing.

As she located Stiles and Scott on the field, she sent a wave and a thumbs-up, wishing them luck before they reciprocated with a wave of their own.

It felt like she had morphed into a lacrosse mom, observing her sons embarking on their first practice of the new school year as sophomores.

Despite the potential for the duo to secure a spot on the first line, they didn't seem adequately prepared, but she opted to keep her thoughts to herself as they approached the field, sporting their equipment.

In comparison to some of their teammates, Scott and Stiles appeared somewhat diminutive.

Scott turned his head, glancing at Cindy before shifting his gaze to the unfamiliar girl who had joined Lydia in the bleachers.

Cindy noted the new presence and assumed the girl must be new to the school.

What caught her attention, however, was the subtle difference in the way Scott looked at this girl compared to how he used to look at her.

The girl, with fair skin, flowing chocolate locks, and high cheekbones, seemed to captivate Scott's attention much like Cindy used to.

It wasn't that Cindy harboured any resentment toward her own appearance; she prioritized comfort and a natural style.

Yet, an uneasy feeling stirred within her as she observed Scott's interest in the new girl.

The girl delved into her bag, retrieving the compact mirror and lip gloss she always kept within easy reach.

Why was she going through this routine?

She applied gloss to her lips and released her hair from its bun, allowing the curls to cascade around her shoulders and down her back.

With a swift unzip of her jacket, she stood up, grabbed her bag, and headed toward the bench where Stiles was rooted.

Taking a seat beside him, she sprayed a hint of body mist from a small bottle she carried in her bag.

This seemed like an emergency.

Stiles turned to her, clearly puzzled.

He observed her newly let-down hair and the lip gloss that accentuated her naturally plump lips.