The boy and girl stood in front of Avin, their gazes locked like blades crossed in mid-air. Sparks of tension practically hissed between them.
Avin sat frozen on the bench. His gut twisted. Is this… a fight? His instincts screamed at him to stand up, to slip quietly out of sight before fists—or worse—started flying.
He rose quickly, brushing off his trousers. Yup, I'm not dying today. Just going to walk away like a smart man.
"Hey, you!"
The shout cut across the hall. Avin stiffened but kept walking. Surely it wasn't meant for him.
"Hey, you!"
He quickened his pace, eyes locked forward. Not his business. Not his problem.
"Hey, you, redhead!"
That made him pause. Avin turned, brows knitting. Redhead? He wasn't used to being called that. Back on Earth, nobody had ever addressed him by his hair color—it felt too casual, too blunt.
When he looked back, the girl's sharp brown eyes were pinned on him. She was looking right at him.
His stomach dropped.
