School feels… off today.
Not in any obvious way that I could point to and say, "There—that's what's wrong." The halls are still flooded with their usual cacophony of teenage chaos, conversations bleeding into one another like watercolors in rain. Lockers slam shut with their familiar metallic symphony, creating a percussion that echoes off the scuffed linoleum floors. The lunch bell rings with the same artificial cheer it always has, that tinny electronic melody that somehow manages to sound both urgent and completely lifeless at the same time.
But something underneath it all hums differently today. Like a guitar string that's been tuned just slightly off-key—close enough that most people wouldn't notice, but wrong enough to make my skin crawl with unease.
Maybe it's me.
Or maybe it's Chi.
