Damian sat through his last two classes staring at the clock, pencil snapping again in his fist when the teacher called on him. He didn't hear the question. He didn't care. By the time the final bell rang, his chest was so tight he could barely breathe.
He waited until the hallways thinned, until the loudest voices faded toward the parking lot, until the only sounds left were locker doors slamming and sneakers squeaking on tile. Then he moved.
Zayn's locker was at the end of the senior wing, right where it had always been. Damian spotted him immediately, golden jacket half-zipped, hair still perfect from the morning kiss Selene had planted on him in front of everyone. Zayn was shoving books into his bag, movements sharp, like he was trying to outrun the day.
Damian walked straight up to him.
"Zayn."
Zayn's shoulders tensed. He didn't turn around right away. "Not now, Damian. Not here."
