Sam

The first rays of spring sun are beating down on the asphalt, still damp from the night. In front of the school gates, laughter breaks out between groups who have obviously known each other for a long time. Sam mechanically adjusts her overweight backpack, feeling her headphones slide lightly over her ears.

Damn, they all look like they've known each other since kindergarten... This sucks. Well, if worst comes to worst, I'll do what I already did before, watch for three days and pick my team. Look at that brunette over there with her custom Converse, she looks chatty. And that guy by the newsstand... Oh, he just checked out my legs. Classic.

She yanks out her headphones, leaving the wires dangling from her T-shirt. A scent of household products and perspiration catches in her throat as she pushes open the glass door.

Shit, they don't even pump in here? It smells like a swimming pool changing room and the swimming pool next to it. The decor makes you want to die, fucking beige tiles, really? It's almost like the backrooms.

Her footsteps echo in the hall, which is actually just a huge corridor with walkways above. The interior is already illuminated by the morning light streaming through the large bay windows.

*The school bus spits out its last passengers in front of the high school with an engine roar. Sam shuffles off, her backpack banging limply against her hip with each step. She blinks in the harsh morning light, already too warm for early spring.

It's like the air-conditioning's going to break down before break time. Well, off to room 114... or was it 112? Shit, I forgot the timetable on my phone again.

She rummages absentmindedly in her jeans pocket, pulling out a crumpled pack of chewing gum which she unfolds with her teeth. Around her, groups form and break up as usual. Someone shouts a name in the distance, a door slams somewhere. Nothing that really catches her eye.

As she walks towards the entrance, she glances at the posters in the windows, stuff about expensive school trips and reminders about the rules. Nothing worth slowing down for.

What time is the canteen today? I'll have to check the menu to see if it's worth not going to McDonald's.

Okay, new school, new life... Well, if you can call it a life. Damn, they're all in summer camp mode here.

Clusters of teenagers mill around in front of the still-closed gates. A bunch of girls giggle as they pass around a phone, probably taking pictures of their summer vacation. Further on, boys are doing complicated checks as if they were rehearsing for the Olympics of debility. A few loners are tapping away on their phones, looking tense.

Sam adjusts the strap of her tank top that tucks into her shoulder, feeling a few glances slide down her bare legs.

Oh yeah, welcome to the zoo. Here's the chick with the platinum bob, she looks like an influencer. And that guy by the wall trying to pretend he's not smoking his cigarette, shaking like a leaf... Pathetic. Pathetic.

A crackling beep momentarily stops the conversation. The gate creaks open slowly, triggering a disorganized stampede. Sam follows the flow of the crowd to the reception desk.

Come on, breathe. It's just an ugly building with ugly people in it. Just like everywhere else.

The high school gate slams behind Sam with a metallic clang that echoes in the warm afternoon air. She rolls her shoulders to release the tension built up during class, her sweaty backpack sticking to her t-shirt.

Damn, this day... The teachers already making remarks about the diploma when we'd just started class. And those two 11th grade bitches looking at me like I stole their fucking bench.

She pulled her phone out of the pocket of her ripped jean shorts, mechanically checking her notifications as she walked towards the nearby park.

Well, come on, there's bound to be some normal people hanging out there. At worst, I'll sit on a bench and pretend I'm studying for my class... Or not.

Approaching the park gates, Sam already spots a few scattered groups. Near the old kiosk, three girls she vaguely recognizes from the high school nearby exchange electronic cigarettes and giggle. Further on, near the basketball courts, a group of guys in tracksuits are happily arguing over a game.

The hot sand crunches under Sam's feet as she trudges along behind her parents. Her midnight blue one-piece swimsuit sticks slightly to her sweaty skin in the afternoon sun, her hair bleached by the salt water falling in tangled strands down her back.

Great... Another day of playing the model daughter with my parents. They could at least leave me alone and not watch me like I'm going to jump into the water with my phone.

She glances sideways at the groups of teenagers scattered across the beach. Near the rocks, three boys are engaging in reckless challenges. Further away, a group of girls her age are sprawled out on colorful towels, sharing a tube of sunscreen and giggling.

It looks more fun over there... Damn, I have to find an excuse to get out of here. I'll just say I'm going to get some ice cream or something.

Sam nervously taps on the case of her phone, protected in its waterproof pouch, glancing furtively between her parents, who are unfolding their deck chairs, and the other young people on the beach.

Sam sits on her unmade bed, twirling her phone between her fingers with an exasperated sigh. The orange light of the setting sun filters through the blinds, casting streaks of light across her belongings.

Are all my feeds in coma mode today or what? Even the usual annoying influencers haven't posted anything...

She glances out the half-open window, where muffled laughter rises from the street. A group of teenagers walks past her house, backpacks slung over their shoulders and sneakers dragging on the pavement, but not a familiar face among them.

If I go downstairs now, I'll look like a desperate girl stalking her neighborhood... Or worse, run into some weirdos.

Her fingers mechanically tap away at Instagram messages she's left lying around for too long. But boredom is still lurking very close by.