(Paired Song: "Meet Me in the Hallway" – Harry Styles)
Song Moment: Near the end of the chapter, in Juno's headphones as they ride the bus home, quietly overwhelmed and uncertain.
The bus hissed and sighed like it didn't want to be there either.
Juno Vale stepped down onto the pavement, their boots crunching against old rock salt that hadn't been swept up from winter. It was late March now—too warm for frost but too cold for comfort. The kind of grey day where the sky felt heavy and personal.
They adjusted the strap of their backpack, which had once been mint green but was now dulled to a sort of sea-glass sadness. The left strap was stitched with blue thread—Juno's doing, after it snapped during a panic attack at their old school.
New town. New school. Same Juno.
Mayfield High loomed like every other high school in every other small town Juno had been dragged to. The flag outside the entrance flapped weakly. Everything about the building felt a little too square.
Inside, the air smelled like pencils and old radiator heat. Juno found the main office, collected their schedule, and accepted a temporary ID badge that had a blurry photo and spelled their name "Juniper Vail." Not even close.
Their first three classes passed in a blur. Teachers looked at them like a pop quiz they hadn't written. Students looked at them like a foreign language. No one talked to them, which was fine. That was the goal.
Still, Juno's anxiety buzzed steadily under their ribs, rising and falling like a tide. Their pencil bounced silently against their sketchbook during history. In chemistry, they were partnered with a boy who kept sniffing and didn't make eye contact once. The cafeteria was too loud, so they found a spot in the library and drew vines curling out of an open locker.
Fourth period was English, and Juno was almost in the clear when the teacher looked up from her clipboard.
"You must be our new student." Her voice carried.
Juno swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. Uh—Juno Vale."
The teacher smiled politely. "Take the open seat by the window."
The only open seat was next to a girl in a cream-colored cardigan and cherry-colored nails. She had a neat row of rainbow highlighters lined up on her desk and was gently tapping the cover of a book titled Tiny Beautiful Things.
As Juno slid into the desk, the girl turned toward them with a soft, unsure smile. "Hi."
Juno blinked. "Hi."
"I'm Avery." She said it like she didn't say her name often, but wanted to get it right.
"Juno," they replied, pulling their hoodie sleeves over their hands.
"Like the movie?" Avery asked, tilting her head.
They nodded. "Or the Roman goddess. Or the spacecraft. Pick your favorite."
Avery considered this for a moment, smile tugging wider. "I think I like the goddess best. She seems cool."
"Sure," Juno said, trying not to fidget. "She is. Kind of vengeful, though."
"I like girls who fight back."
Juno's eyes snapped up. Avery didn't seem to notice the weight of her words. She was already flipping open her notebook, her wrist brushing against Juno's as she reached for a pen.
The teacher launched into a lecture about metaphor, but Juno barely heard any of it.
By the end of the school day, Juno's nerves had sharpened into a quiet ache behind their eyes. They avoided the cafeteria again, skipped the courtyard full of yelling soccer boys, and found a quiet bench near the back doors to wait for the bus.
Avery hadn't said anything else to them all period. Just that one soft exchange. But it had stuck with Juno all afternoon—like a dandelion seed caught in the corner of their chest.
As the bus pulled up and the doors folded open with a gasp, Juno climbed aboard and headed for the back row. They liked the last seat—no one behind them, less chance of unexpected conversation.
They slipped in their headphones and pressed play on a playlist titled quiet things for loud days.
The first notes of "Meet Me in the Hallway" crept into their ears.
"Just let me know, I'll be at the door..."
The world outside blurred by in a wash of grey pavement and leafless trees. The clouds were the same color as their sweatshirt. They tapped their fingers against their thigh in time with the music, the rhythm grounding them just a little.
They thought of Avery. Of the way she said "Juno" like it was worth remembering. Of the way she didn't flinch when they said "they."
Juno didn't want to admit how rare that was.
"We don't talk about it, it's something we don't do..."
They leaned their forehead against the window and closed their eyes. The song filled in all the spaces they didn't know how to name—spaces that had been building since the moment they walked into school this morning.
Maybe Mayfield wasn't going to be great.
But maybe... it wouldn't be as bad as the others.