As Fred burst through the classroom door, every head had swiveled towards his direction. Yet, the sudden influx of attention didn't seem to faze him, however the class couldn't help but murmur at his disheveled appearance.
His hair was a tangled mess, as if he'd just rolled out of bed, and beads of sweat glistened down his forehead.
Angela's eyes narrowed, her curiosity piqued. She wasn't the only one; the entire class seemed to be holding their collective breath, awaiting an explanation from him.
"Where are you coming from?" Angela asked, her voice tinged with concern. "And why did you arrive late to class?" Her eyes scanned Fred's disheveled form, searching for clues.
"I was practicing, but I lost track of time," Fred said briefly, his eyes darting around the room before settling on Ken's familiar figure. A mix of emotions flickered across his face - anger, enviness, and something else Angela couldn't quite place.
