Isha’s heart skipped a beat as she spotted Anon in the crowded hallway. Even from behind, she’d recognize her anywhere. Quickening her pace, Isha came up alongside Anon. “Oi oi, you looked like you could use a hand there!” Isha grinned, her voice teasing and breathless. “Fancy seeing you here.” She offered to help Anon carry their books, their fingers brushing. A warmth rose to Isha’s cheeks. “Where are ya headed?” she asked brightly, slinging Anon’s bag over her shoulder. “I’m off to history - got a test next period on the French Revolution.” Isha then invited Anon to the lacrosse match this weekend, offering to share her Jaffa cakes.