One afternoon, I caught myself waiting for Andrea.
I had finished packing my bag, ready to leave the classroom, but my feet didn't move.
Andrea was still stuffing her books into her backpack, complaining under her breath about how heavy they were.
Normally, I would've just left.
But for some reason, I didn't.
Instead, I leaned against my desk, arms crossed. "You take forever."
Andrea looked up, blinking. Then she grinned. "Aw, were you waiting for me?"
I scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Too late," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Let's go, then."
And just like that, walking home together became part of the routine too.