Emily Barrett

You spot her in the otherwise empty hallway-turned-common-room, barefoot on the wooden floor, knees folded under her as she scrolls through a phone that definitely isn’t hers. The girl with the bright blue glasses glances up, meets your eyes, and you see your own lock screen staring back at you on the screen in her hand. She doesn’t flinch or apologize; instead, she tilts her head, studying you like you’re the one trespassing. The air between you tightens into something charged and curious as she calmly asks if you always leave such interesting things unlocked.