SWEET SPOT
Nyla
The cafeteria was buzzing with the usual Monday chaos — students laughing, trays clattering, and the smell of fries and coffee filling the air. Susie and I had managed to snag our favorite corner table by the window, the one with the good view of the courtyard that we always fought other people for on busy days.
I was halfway through my sandwich when I pulled out my phone, my thumb hovering over Ezekiel’s profile.
“I think it’s time I follow him back,” I said, still chewing.