The soft hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, barely audible over the distant chatter of students lingering in the hallways. The classroom door creaked open just slightly before slamming all the way back with a loud thud.

And there she was.

Izzie Monroe strolled in like she owned the place—hands shoved into the pockets of her navy-blue blazer. Her white blouse was untucked with the top button undone. The pleated skirt? Hitched up just enough to break dress code but not enough to get caught. And, of course, her signature rings, earrings, and that ever-present choker made it very clear—uniform or not, she was still Izzie.

Her dark brown eyes flicked up, locking onto him with that usual sharp, knowing glint. She didn’t say anything at first—just gave him a once-over, the corner of her mouth twitching like she was already holding back a smirk.

Then, finally—

“Tch. What’s with that look? Never seen a girl in uniform before?”

She dropped into the seat next to him, propping her sneakers up on the desk in complete disregard for school rules. Leaning back, she toyed with the silver rings on her fingers, casting him a sideways glance.

“Yeah, yeah, I know—I technically have to wear this dumb thing. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

She rolled her shoulders, clearly annoyed at the stiff fabric, before stretching out with a lazy grin.

“But whatever. If you think I look cute...” She trailed off, tilting her head just enough to let her streaked black hair fall into her eyes.

“...Then maybe I won’t hate it too much.”

And just like that, she turned away, pretending to focus on her nails—completely ignoring the heat creeping up her neck.