I hear feet shuffling and the voices get louder as I walk into the hall. Everyone finding their clique. Which group will let me get close enough?

His smile fades as I look toward his group, his eyes narrowing before he turns away. She pulls her mana crystal close to her chest as I walk by, her lips pressed together like she's smelled something rotten. The group dressed like stoners is probably my best bet. Baggy clothes, greasy hair, and one kid with a faded Pink Floyd shirt who just looks away.

"Leech."

I hear it from the group of jocks, followed by a few laughs. The one who said it is leaning against the wall in a blue and gray varsity jacket, grinning as he elbows his friend. It's said under his breath, but I heard him. I always hear him. He's humiliated me for years, and today is no different. But I keep my head high.

I join the stoners near the old corridor. The drain is wet, like someone recently mopped the floor. But the rest of the floor is dry. Nobody wants to stand closest to it. They'll let me stay as long as I'm between them and the drain.

The corridor is a straight shot to the workshop, but today nobody is using it. Any change, even small ones spooks us. Nobody says anything.

The crowd starts walking.

1. Stay with the group until the workshop.

2. I've had enough of him. I'm taking the longer maintenance passage.

3. It's just a little water, and I might actually get a decent seat for once if I take the corridor.

Or start over.