The moment Sonetto slid into her seat, the classroom door swung open with a decisive creak. Mr. Galloway strode in, his presence commanding an immediate hush. He was a man of few wasted movements, his hawk-like gaze sweeping over the room before briefly landing on Sonetto. A barely perceptible nod followed—acknowledgment, approval, or simply noting her presence, she couldn't tell.
"Good. Everyone's here," he said, his voice as steady and sharp as ever. He dropped a thick stack of papers onto his desk with a resounding thud, the sound cutting through the last remnants of idle chatter. "Let's begin."
The students who had still been settling in immediately quieted, their attention shifting as Mr. Galloway reached for a piece of chalk and turned toward the board.
Sonetto exhaled slowly, tension melting from her shoulders. She had made it.
Across the aisle, Conner, who sat two desks away, grinned at Sonetto, he of course knew she'd make it, he knew she just needed a little push to do it. Sonetto took notice and grinned back.
She smirked and shrugged. They had been friends long enough for them both to 'motivate' each other like that.
Mr. Galloway cleared his throat, immediately recapturing the class's focus. "As you all know, today marks the end of your fourth school term. Some of you have made great strides during the academic year." His gaze lingered meaningfully on a few students before shifting again. "While others… well, you know who you are so I don't need to say it..."
A ripple of uneasy laughter moved through the class. It was clear that many in the class weren't too hopeful about their results, despite it not being released yet.
The class carried on, the usual motions of the morning still unfolding as Mr. Galloway outlined the coursework they had done throughout the year. Sonetto checked her workbook to ensure that she had done the work listed, and wrote the points that she hadn't, but found her focus wavering. The feeling wouldn't go away.
Something was off.
A strange sensation crept into Sonetto's left arm—an odd tingle, almost like pins and needles, but duller, deeper. She brushed it off as lingering strain from her mad sprint to school earlier that morning.
Still, as she focused on copying the notes Mr. Galloway had scrawled onto the board, the discomfort persisted, growing more insistent. Then, without warning, her ring and index fingers twitched. Lightly at first, then with an erratic tremor she couldn't control.
Her breath hitched.
She clenched her right hand over her left, gripping it tightly to still the involuntary movement. The twitching slowed, but unease coiled in her stomach.
What the hell was that? Sonetto's thoughts jolted to a halt.
That sudden tremor—there was no way that was normal. Right?
She flexed her fingers, realizing the twitching had stopped. Instead, a strange numbness spread through her hand—not total, but enough to unsettle her.
Glancing around, she saw no reaction. No one had noticed. Maybe it had been smaller than it felt. Shaking it off, she returned to her unfinished work, forcing herself to focus.
But then—
A heavy thud.