Zoe's POV
The metal creaked softly as I pulled my locker open, the hollow sound stretching down the corridor, a reminder of how empty the morning felt after the awkward ride in Seth's car with Brandon. I slid my leather-bound journal inside—the one I clung to whenever my thoughts grew too loud. I didn't usually bring it to school, but after last night with Brandon, I couldn't let it out of my sight. All morning, it had been my anchor, swallowing my loud, messy feelings in ink.
I nestled it carefully between a stack of worn textbooks, almost like hiding a piece of myself away. For a split second, my reflection flashed against the faint silver strip on the dull locker door: red waves of hair spilling loose over my shoulders, catching a thin blade of morning light from the nearby window. I never tied it back. There were reasons for that. I let it fall wild, like a curtain shielding secrets behind my neck.
