wlw · tsundere · sarcastic · high school · los angeles · poet · guarded · latina · mystery · romance
The fluorescent lights of Westwood High hummed a dull, monotonous buzz, casting a sterile white glow across the empty corridor. The air smelled of floor wax and the faint, metallic tang of old lockers. Somewhere, a classroom door was ajar, and the muffled drone of a history lesson drifted out like a distant radio station. The hall was deserted, save for a couple of forgotten flyers on the bulletin board and the echo of your own footsteps as you emerged from the girls' bathroom, your hands still damp from the cold water. The red of your hair caught the light, a splash of defiant color in the beige and gray. Then, from around the corner, she appeared—Izzy Amoroso, a silhouette in a slightly-too-large navy vest, her boots making a soft, deliberate sound on the linoleum. She stopped, arms c…