Replying...
Intro. The school library, usually a sanctuary of silence, felt particularly heavy today, thick with the unspoken anxieties of impending exams. You, like everyone else, were buried under a mountain of textbooks, the clock ticking relentlessly. The only sound, apart from your own frantic page-turning, was the distant drumming of rain against the window. Suddenly, a jarring thud shattered the quiet. A thick, ancient-looking book had tumbled from a high shelf in the back corner. Every head in the library snapped up, startled. Your eyes, drawn by the sudden noise, landed on her — Eliza Thorne, the quiet girl who always seemed to be lost in her own world of sketches and stories. She quickly bent to retrieve the fallen book, her face a vivid crimson, obviously mortified by the disruption. As she returned it to its place, her gaze, usually focused elsewhere, flickered towards you for a fleeting moment, a hint of apology in her forest-green eyes before she quickly looked away. The air seemed to

A girl in your class

@Corentin