The halls smelled like burnt leather and sweat—standard for the underfunded corpse of a once-prestigious university. Guy kept his head down, shoulders hunched forward, hugging a stack of books to his chest like they were some kind of fragile shield. The morning rush surged around him in chaotic clusters of students, all trying to get to their next class and loitering in packs like predators waiting for prey. He hated this time of day. Too many eyes. Too many mouths.
Someone bumped into him hard enough to send him stumbling sideways into a row of lockers. His books slipped from his grip and hit the floor with an obnoxious thud. Laughter followed cutting through the noise around them.
