(Michelle Lui's POV)
History class was… tolerable.
Mostly because I retained enough of my thirty-year-old brain to already know half of what the professor was lecturing about. The rest of the class, however, looked ready to ascend into the afterlife.
Camille, beside me, whispered furiously:
"Michelle. Michelle. Michelle."
I kept writing. "Yes?"
She leaned closer, eyes wide and glimmering with suppressed excitement.
"You're glowing."
"…What?"
"Glowing," she repeated. "Like someone who has been very thoroughly texted by a certain very famous boy."
I froze.
"…I have no idea what you're talking about."
Camille clicked her tongue.
"Michelle. Please. Half the block has spent TWO WEEKS whispering about you and Steven Sy. He even made the announcement that he's COURTING you! And now you're SMILING in History? HISTORY?"
I tried not to react. "I always smile."
"Not like THIS," she hissed.
