The walk to my locker felt like an eternity, each step weighed down by regret. I had pushed others away, convinced that Amber and Lucas were all I needed. Now, those once-strong bonds had frayed, leaving me isolated.

I spun the dial on my locker, gathering my books with a sense of purpose. English Literature was my first-period salvation. Maybe immersing myself in Shakespeare's sonnets and tragedies would provide the distraction I desperately needed.

I closed my locker, a glimmer of determination forming. I would focus on academics, pour my energy into learning, and rebuild my sense of self. The hurt still lingered, but for now, I would shelve it, hiding behind the pages of my textbook.

I'd deliberately chosen AP English Literature to avoid Amber and Lucas, who had opted for AP English Composition. It was a small victory, my first decision that didn’t revolve around them. A deliberate step away from our once-inseparable trio.

Even in Literature, Amber's presence lingered. Her friends Sophie and Grace were in my class, their striking similarities confusing me. One had sunny blonde hair, the other warm golden brown locks. Their identical smiles and effortless laughter made me wonder if they were twins.

I settled into the front row, claiming the desk next to an empty seat. As I unpacked my books, my heart sank. My glasses were nowhere to be found. I had reminded myself repeatedly to grab them before leaving home, but apparently, they were still on my bed, forgotten.

In the second row, a girl with striking purple hair and vibrant tattoos caught my attention. Lost in her book, she seemed impervious to the whispers and curious glances from our classmates. Our eyes met briefly, and I sensed a flicker of disinterest before she returned to her reading. Her expression hinted at annoyance, whether with the class or the world outside, I couldn't tell.

I observed the purple-haired girl, her absorption sparking a longing within me. I yearned for the comfort of familiar characters, the thrill of discovering new worlds, and the solace of beautifully crafted sentences. Shakespeare's sonnets or Gatsby's narratives seemed the perfect refuge.

Just then, our teacher glided into the room, her presence commanding attention. As the class settled, she smiled warmly, surveying her domain. Her curly brown hair was swept back into a loose bun, revealing a radiant face. A vibrant scarf danced around her neck, adding a pop of color to her crisp white blouse.

With confident poise, she began to unpack her materials, ready to guide us through the realm of literature. Stepping to the front, her warm brown eyes sparkled behind sleek reading glasses, radiating intelligence and enthusiasm.

"Welcome to English Literature," she introduced, her enthusiasm infectious.

"I'm your teacher, Miss Mari, and I'll be guiding you through an unforgettable journey of words and ideas for the rest of the school year."

Miss Mari's eyes sparkled as she continued, "Together, we'll delve into the complexities of human experience, unraveling the threads of emotion, thought, and culture that weave literature into the rich tapestry of life. We'll discover the transformative power of language, exploring how it shapes our perceptions, sparks empathy, and inspires imagination."

She handed out syllabi, and I scanned the pages, taking in the course outline, reading list, and assignment schedule.

"Take a few minutes to review the syllabus," Miss Mari instructed. "Note the key texts, assignment due dates, and expectations. I encourage you to ask questions and seek clarification – we're in this journey together."

Hands shot up around the room, and Miss Mari addressed each question with clarity and patience.

"Now, let's start with something personal," Miss Mari announced, distributing a sheet with the first assignment. "I want to get to know each of you through your literary lenses."

"Write a reflective essay," Miss Mari explained, "about a book, poem, or author that resonates with you. Tell me why it's significant, how it impacts your life, and what themes or genres interest you."

The room fell silent as the class began reading the assignment sheet. But my mind went blank, paralyzed by the plethora of author options staring back at me. Suddenly, everything seemed overwhelming, and my motivation dwindled.

Miss Mari circled the room, offering guidance and encouragement.

"This assignment is not just about writing," she emphasized. "It's about sharing your perspective, your passions, and your interests. It's about finding your voice."

Miss Mari's words echoed in my mind, but they only served as a harsh reminder of my own silence. How do I find my voice when mine remained trapped, suffocated by the weight of my own doubts?

I'd always been the observer, watching life unfold from the sidelines. Not because I didn't want to speak up, but because the words refused to come. My voice was lost in the chaos of my own thoughts.

Even confronting my friends, who I'd known for years, felt like an insurmountable task. Their betrayal still stung, leaving me feeling abandoned and forgotten.

The room buzzed with excitement, the promise of a new academic year stretching out like a blank page. I felt suffocated by despair. The enthusiasm surrounding me only highlighted my own emptiness.

Without the friends who once inspired me, my passion for everything had withered away. I felt lost, a stranger in my own skin. The question echoed in my mind: How do I find myself again?

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Miss Mari's parting words echoed in my mind: "The assignment is due Friday." I tucked the sheet into my folder, my thoughts already drifting away from the task at hand.

I stepped out of the classroom, lost in thought. The bustling hallway, filled with chatter and laughter, faded into the background as my mind began to wander. The familiar faces of my classmates, the hum of lockers opening and closing – everything blurred together.

My feet carried me through the crowded corridor on autopilot, while my thoughts lingered on the turmoil that had been brewing inside me.

Friday's deadline seemed distant, but I knew I needed to shake off the distraction and dive into the assignment soon.

After math class, I stopped by my locker to stuff my books before heading to the cafeteria. As I turned the corner, I collided with Eric, the school's notorious ladies' man. His chiseled features and piercing blue eyes seemed carved into perfection, but his smirk hinted at trouble. His friends, the popular crew – Jake, Tyler, and Matt – flanked him, their smirks a testament to their shared amusement.

"Whoa, watch where you're going, Corrine," Eric said, grasping my elbow, his touch lingering. His cologne wafted up, enticing but overpowering.

I jerked free, irritation sparking. "Sorry, didn't realize I needed to announce my presence to Your Highness."

Eric chuckled, his eyes crinkling. "Feisty today, huh? I like it." He leaned against the locker, his athletic build accentuated by his fitted shirt.

His friends snickered, and I shot them a withering glance. Jake, with his messy blond hair, looked away, but Tyler and Matt continued to leer.

"So, Corrine," Eric said, pushing off the locker, his movements fluid, "what's the haps? Still hanging with Amber?" His tone was casual, but his gaze probed.

I sidestepped the question. "Just heading to lunch. You know, the usual."

Eric raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face. "The usual?" he repeated, his tone laced with curiosity. "That's cryptic. You two have a falling out or something?" He fell into step beside me, his stride effortlessly matching mine.

I shrugged, feigning indifference. "Nope. Just focusing on myself."

Eric snorted. "Save it, Corrine. Everyone knows you're tight with Amber. Or were." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

His friends snickered, and I felt a flush rise. The cafeteria's noise and chaos seemed to close in.

"Move on, Eric," I said, quickening my pace.

Eric matched my stride, his grin persistent. "Aw, come on. Don't be like that. I'm just showing interest." His eyes locked onto mine, sparkling with amusement.

"In your own special way, I'm sure," I retorted, my voice laced with sarcasm.

Eric chuckled. "Hey, that's harsh. I'm a catch."

"Of the day, maybe," I muttered.

His friends burst into laughter, and Eric's grin faltered for a moment before he recovered.

"Alright, alright. You got some sass, Corrine. I'll give you that."

We reached the cafeteria entrance, and Eric held the door open, his eyes glinting.

"After you, my pleasure."

I rolled my eyes and walked through, Eric's low chuckle following me.

Eric's attention was the last thing I needed right now. It only fueled the fire burning inside me. I seized the opportunity to escape into the lunch crowd when he became distracted by a petite blonde who sashayed past him. Her bright smile and effortless charm momentarily mesmerized Eric, giving me the opening I needed.

I waited in line to grab lunch, timing it poorly as the queue started to grow. What felt like an eternity passed before it was finally my turn. Once I stepped out of line, I scanned the cafeteria, realizing I needed to find a seat. Every table was packed, and I hesitated, feeling awkward and lost.

I moved around uncertainly until my eyes landed on Lucas and Amber at a table near the popular crowd. Gia, Paige, Sophie, Grace, and Lucas's friends were also there. I hesitated, unsure if I should join them, but Lucas waved me over. With everyone at the table already staring, ignoring him wasn’t an option.