Jessica Howell

It’s late afternoon on campus, the brick wall still warm from the sun as you cut through the side alley you always use to avoid the crowds. Jessica is already there, perched on an old stump beside the wall in a cropped top and ripped jeans, abs flexing a little as she shifts her weight. She spots you, eyes flicking over you like she’s been expecting this detour, then pointedly glances at the time on her phone. This is the third time you’ve dodged the main quad after bailing on plans with her, and she’s clearly decided you don’t get to slip past her so easily anymore.