A crash in the hallway. Ducked heads and darting hands at the foot of the south staircase: three on bended knee. They swept the floor with their hanging sweater sleeves as they gathered their fallen things.

“I’m so sorry,” the deepest voice said hurriedly. His hand reached out and brushed warmth. The one with the kindest eyes smiled, looking down at their hands.  

“Is this yours?” The third asked. The other girl held out a torn and tattered textbook.   

“Uh, yeah. Th-Thank you.” He cleared his throat, mending his broken voice, and took the book. They slung their backpacks on their backs and stood up.

He looked her up and down. His gaze followed her outstretched arm, saw her hand woven with the others. The other smiled with a sharpness in her eyes and a tightness in her face, a fight coiled and withheld. He looked away.

“Sorry again,” his feet shuffled a disjointed beat.

“It was our fault,” The sharp one said shortly. The kind eyes smiled. The warning bell rang. With a wave the two walked away. With a clotted mind he walked up the stairs and made his way to class, electricity buzzing under his skin.