I sprinted up the stairs, dodging the few students that were coming down. Maybe if I ran fast enough I would be able to catch Wren before she's even able to lay eyes on her locker. Then again, surely the piece of cardboard covering it would last long enough to hide the monstrosity beneath it.

As I approached the third floor, I began running through a list of excuses through my head as to why Wren's locker was destroyed, the only thing on that list being: "it was a prank". But either way, I didn't think that any explanation could explain a hate message.

I slowed into a walk as I finally reached the top floor, letting my eyes wander over the collection of empty classrooms and vacant lockers. The corridor was completely deserted, besides a single figure at the very end of the hall.

"Wren!" I called out, breaking into a jog. To my dismay, I received no response as she simply stared at whatever was in front of her, caught in a daze.

"Wren?"

Still no response.

With every step I took towards her I felt as if I was being stabbed in the gut.

Wren stood still, examining the piece of cardboard plastered over her locker. Her fingers were tightened around a single key, its key chain slapping against the side of her hand as she cut away at the weakening duct tape holding the cardboard in place.

Watching her, I felt as if the colour had been sucked out of my skin.

"Wren, what are you doing?"

In the spur of the moment, I reached out, placing my hand over her wrist in an attempt to stop her from prying the sheet of cardboard from her locker door. Wren's bright eyes lingered over my hand before meeting my gaze, an expression that I couldn't quite decipher sitting over her face.

"Why is there a piece of cardboard over my locker?" She asked, completely ignoring my question. She raised an eyebrow at me, watching as I squirmed nervously in my spot.

I swallowed a nervous lump in my throat, mentally going through yet another list of plausible explanations in my head.

"R-reasons?" I stammered, internally face-palming myself. "But that's beside the point," I remarked, abruptly changing the subject. "What are you doing on the third floor?"

Wren seemed taken aback at my question but quickly recovered, letting out a sigh of defeat.

"Well, I heard people talking about my locker," she replied truthfully, "and I mean, curiosity kills the cat . . . the cat with nine lives?"

"Plus," she added, gesturing to her lock, hidden behind the sheet cardboard, "This piece of cardboard is the only thing keeping me from my notebook."

She shot me a nervous smile before getting back to work, stabbing her key into the weakening duct tape and cutting through the rest.

"No Wren don't-"

Wren didn't listen to me, delivering the final cut that caused the cardboard plate to finally give in, flipping open like a window.

Wren simply stood in silence, her hazel eyes wide in shock and lips quivering as she mouthed out the sloppy words written over her locker.

Her grip on her key chain fell limp between her fingers, the heap of metal falling to the floor with a sharp clink.

With a shaky hand, Wren brushed her fingers against one of the neon letters, almost as if she was confirming whether or not it was real. Slow and steady, her chest began to rise and fall, tears forming by her eyelids and streaming down her face. She pulled her scarf higher up her face, concealing her cheeks and the rush of tears rolling down them.

I felt absolutely helpless as I watched Wren, teardrops seeping through her scarf in tiny wet blots.

After a few moments of silence, Wren finally turned to face me. She looked devastated, the twinkle of her bright eyes replaced with a look of absolute sorrow.

"Vince?" She muttered, her sniffles muffled by the fabric of her scarf. "What happened?"

Immediately I felt a pang of guilt pierce through me as I met Wren's tear-stricken eyes, the look over her face pleading for an explanation.

I opened my mouth to reply but snapped it shut after second thoughts, swallowing a nervous lump in my throat instead. I took a deep breath, trying my absolute best to look her in the eye without falling apart myself.

"Honestly, Wren," I muttered sheepishly, "I can't say for sure."

Wren took another deep breath, calmly wiping away her tears. It didn't take much to realize that she was trying her best to keep it in.

"Did you know about this too?" Wren suddenly asked, her voice faltering. She caught my gaze head-on as another wave of tears washed over her hazel eyes.

I couldn't help but avert my gaze, gluing my eyes towards the floor instead.

"Yeah," I murmured, dipping my head in shame, "I'm really sorry."

Slowly, Wren turned her back towards me, shifting her gaze over to the messy graffiti over her locker instead.

"It's fine," she sniffed, letting her fingers trace over the neon green letters once more. "I mean, you're the one who tried to stop me from seeing it, and besides, it was my fault for being so nosy about it in the first place." Her shoulders rose and fell as she took a deep breath, reaching forwards to spin the dial of her lock.

"Let me get my notebook and then we could go."

Wren swung open her locker door, only to find it completely empty. Frantically, she peered over the top shelf, proceeding to scan the locker from top to bottom. I made my way towards the locker as well, with no yellow notebook insight.

Taken off guard, Wren fidgeted with her ring, nervously squirming in her spot.

"I probably left it at home and forgot about it," she muttered anxiously. Judging by the way her facial expression twisted into a look of distress, I had a strong feeling she was lying to make me feel a little more at ease.

Come to think of it, didn't Georgia mention something about Wren's locker being broken into a while ago? And that paper I found with Wren's writing over it?

Brushing aside those thoughts for the moment, I mindlessly nodded along with Wren's statement, hoping that my reassurance would help her calm down a little more.

"We'll find it," I assured her, watching as she glumly closed her locker door, grabbing her lock and clipping it on to the bottom strap of her backpack.

Wren simply nodded her head at my statement, taking a long look at the neon green words spray-painted over her locker door for the last time.

Wiping away the last traces of tears from her face, she reached out, calmly re-taping the sheet of flimsy cardboard back into place.

***

"Hey Vince?"

Wren looked up at me, her hazel eyes, still tinged in red, peering at me through the checked pattern of her scarf.

"Yeah?" I replied, holding the door open for her as we made our way out of the building. Wren gladly walked through, rushing ahead to hold the next door open for me.

"You can go ahead," she said, lowering her gaze and kicking at the snow by her feet. "I um, have to go . . . take care of something first . . . so I'll see you tomorrow."

Before I could protest, a familiarly enthusiastic voice rang through the air, catching both Wren and I off guard for a second.

"Vince!" Angelese called out, a wide smile plastered across her face like usual. She wore furry grey earmuffs over her ears, ones that were just as circular as the black-rimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. As expected, Tyler stood by her side, his head buried in his hood. Both their faces were flushed with red, giving me the impression that they had both been standing outside for quite a while.

"H-hey . . ?" I replied, my greeting coming out more like a question.

The moment Angelese's eyes landed on Wren, her smile only seemed to grow wider, as she placed a hand over the front pouch of her lime green shoulder bag. Upon taking notice of Wren, Tyler, on the other hand, glanced towards Angelese, dipping his head to offer a brief nod of acknowledgement.

"Hey Eden!" She sang, pulling Wren into a swift hug. Wren happily returned the gesture but kept her gaze glued to the ground. "Or should I call you Wren now?"

I couldn't help but shot her a look of suspicion as I recalled the last time I spoke to her at the grocery store.

"It's up to you," Wren replied, letting a shy smile creep over her face as Angelese pulled out of the hug. "But it's nice to see you."

"You too!" Angelese exclaimed, cupping Wren's cheeks between her palms. Suddenly, her smile disappeared as a look of concern washed over her face.

"Oh my god what happened?" she asked, her expression softening drastically.

"It's nothing," Wren assured her, tugging the corners of her lips into a painful smile. "Anyways, um, I should get going now . . ."

Her hazel eyes flicked towards mine for a brief second before landing back on Angelese's.

"Y-yeah, uh, I should too," I added, keeping a close eye on Wren to ensure that she didn't leave, not without explanation at least.

The smile on Angelese's face seemed to falter for a split second as she turned towards Tyler, who was too busy trying to keep warm to notice.

"Actually," Angelese started, giving Tyler the "side-eye", "I was hoping we can hang out together some time, like going out for lunch or something?"

Angelese averted her gaze, anxiously adjusting the circular rims of her glasses.

Subconsciously, I whipped my head around, just to ensure that Angelese wasn't talking to someone else, which she wasn't.

It felt strange to be invited to eat lunch with someone.

"Uh, sure," I replied, "You and Tyler are welcome to eat lunch with us if you want."

Angelese dipped her head, pressing her lips together as if biting off words.

"S-sure!" She sputtered, flashing a smile, "That'll be . . . great!"

Again she shot her gaze towards Tyler, who didn't seem to acknowledge her at all.

With a quick wave and overly friendly smile, Angelese finally took off, dragging Tyler along with her.

The moment they were out of earshot, I turned to Wren. The redness over her eyes finally wore off, and an essence of a smile danced over her lips.

"Well they're still nice," Wren remarked, one of her beautifully genuine smiles creeping over her lips.

I nodded my head in agreement, subconsciously flashing a smile myself.

"And Wren?"

"Mhm?"

"You don't need to 'pretend' anymore," I said, turning to face her head-on. "I'm always here if you need me."

Wren simply nodded her head, her smile stretching across her face.

"I know," she stated, letting out a sigh. "I just, I'm not used to telling people things . . . I mean, I've kept everything to myself for a while now, so it's just a habit."

For a couple of moments, the two of us stood in silence, our gazes glued to the snowy ground beneath our feet.

"Well," I started, breaking the ice, "Whenever you feel like sharing, I'll be here, like any wish-buddy would."

Wren finally cracked a genuine smile, letting her two tiny dimples appear over her cheeks.

"Of course," she replied, a slip of laughter escaping from her lips. "I appreciate it, I really do."

"But," she started, lowering her gaze from mine momentarily to fidget with her ring. "I just want to wander off alone for a bit . . ."

Wren finally lifted her gaze, watching as a look of concern washed over my face.

"I just don't want to go home yet," she murmured, a glaze suddenly appearing over her eyes, "It's just that with Nathan-er, I mean, my dad. . . ," She trailed off for a moment, trying her best to grasp at the proper words. "After my mother's death and all, we're just not as . . . close, as we used to be, and I don't really want to go back . . . Not yet at least."

She let out a sigh of defeat, pulling her scarf higher up her face.

"Do you get where I'm coming from?"

I nodded my head in understanding, not even bothering to hold back the look of unease washing over my face.

"Thanks Vince."

I stood rooted to the spot as Wren tugged her lips into a slight smile, bidding me a brief farewell before turning her back and walking away.