Work Text
The morning sun peeked through the blinds, casting warm golden streaks across Adora’s bedroom. Dust particles danced in the light, drifting lazily in the quiet morning air. The scent of old wood and the faintest hint of something sweet—maybe the remnants of last night’s baking experiment—lingered in her small but cozy attic room.Adora groaned as the blaring beeps of her alarm clock shattered the peace, echoing off the sloped ceiling. With a grunt, she rolled over and slammed her hand down on the snooze button, burying her face into the pillow.Another school year was starting.She should be excited. She used to love the first day of school—the crisp notebooks, the smell of new pencils, the feeling of endless possibility. But this year? This year felt different.Her stomach twisted as she thought about the months leading up to today. Summer had been great at first—movie marathons with Bow and Glimmer, long days at the lake, late-night sleepovers with way too much junk food. But then everything shifted. Entrapta, one of her oldest friends, had started hanging around them—Catra, Scorpia, Lonnie, and Kyle. Adora could still remember the first time she saw Entrapta sitting with them at the mall food court, excitedly showing Catra something on her tablet while the others laughed along.That had been the moment she knew things were changing.Another cycle of fresh notebooks, new teachers, the monotonous drone of lectures, and the forced pleasantries of classmates she barely knew. It should have filled her with excitement—anticipation, even. But instead, her stomach felt leaden, like a cold stone lodged beneath her ribs, unmoving and impossible to ignore.She stared up at the ceiling, tracing the slow rotations of the ceiling fan with tired eyes. Its rhythmic whirring filled the room, a steady, hypnotic hum that failed to quiet the storm brewing beneath her skin. The thought of navigating crowded hallways, of slipping into the expected routine, of smiling and nodding in all the right places—it felt suffocating.She wasn’t ready.Not for the questions, the obligations, the constant, unspoken pressure to be something, to fit into a mold she had long since outgrown.With sluggish reluctance, she rolled onto her side, her fingers absently tracing delicate patterns over the sheets—circles, loops, invisible constellations only she could see. The fabric beneath her fingertips was soft, worn from countless restless nights, the only familiar comfort in a day that loomed uncertain before her. She let out a slow breath, the kind that was meant to steady but instead felt like surrender.Beyond the walls of her bedroom, the world continued without pause. A car engine rumbled to life in a nearby driveway. A neighbor’s laughter rang out, bright and careless. Down the street, the high, excited voices of children waiting for the bus carried through the morning air, filled with a boundless energy she couldn’t quite grasp. It all felt so distant, as if she existed in a separate pocket of time, caught between the past and an inevitable future.She exhaled sharply, her breath stirring a loose strand of hair that had fallen across her face. With slow, reluctant fingers, she brushed it away, barely registering the movement. For a fleeting moment, she let herself linger in stillness, pretending that the day hadn’t already begun, that time hadn’t already slipped through her grasp.The air was warm, yet there was a crispness to it, a lingering reminder that the world beyond the house was slowly shifting from summer to the cool embrace of autumn. The scent of freshly baked bread—rich, warm, and yeasty—filled the air, swirling with the earthier aroma of damp leaves and the faint, distant perfume of pine from the nearby woods. It was a smell that wrapped itself around Adora like a comforting hug, the kind of fragrance that only a home could offer."Clang! Clang! Clang!"The sharp, rhythmic sound of a wooden spoon striking a pot rang through the house, its reverberations so familiar that Adora could almost picture the worn, chipped pot Razz was using. The sounds were followed quickly by the unmistakable, cheerful voice of Grandma Razz, echoing with the authority of years spent running a home with unyielding energy and love."Adora! Wake up, dearie!"Adora groaned, rolling over in bed and pulling the thick, worn quilt tighter around her shoulders. The coolness of the room contrasted with the heat of the blanket, and for a moment, she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of half-sleep. The bed creaked as she shifted, the old wooden frame groaning in protest beneath her weight. She buried her face into the soft pillow, willing herself to steal just a few more moments of rest."Breakfast isn’t going to eat itself, you know!"The teasing tone of Razz’s voice was impossible to ignore, a sound that held both affection and the underlying promise of a warm, hearty meal. With a long, sleepy yawn, Adora stretched her arms high above her head, feeling the tension from a night of sleep slowly melt away. The scent of something sweet and buttery reached her nose—perhaps cinnamon rolls or pancakes sizzling on the stove—and her stomach gave a low, rumbling protest in response. There was no ignoring it now."I'm up, I’m up!" she called, her voice thick with sleep.She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet meeting the cool, polished wood of the floor. The chill of the morning air nipped at her skin, sending a small shiver up her spine, but the promise of warmth—both from the stove and the familiar comfort of her grandmother's home—pushed her forward. Outside, through the windows, the soft hum of morning came alive: birds beginning their song, the faint rustle of the trees in the yard swaying gently in the breeze. It was a sound so perfectly tied to this place, to this time, that it felt almost sacred.She could hear her older sister Mara shuffling down the hallway, the soft slap of sneakers against the hardwood floor reverberating faintly through the closed door, barely disturbing the quiet of the early morning. The rhythmic beat was accompanied by the almost imperceptible rustling of fabric—Mara probably already dressed, or at least halfway there. The sound was almost too clean, too graceful, as though her sister was moving in a space where everything fell into place without effort. Adora always found it a little frustrating how effortlessly cool Mara was. She made everything look so easy, from walking down the hallway to conquering whatever challenge came her way.Mara didn’t even seem to try, and yet—every time—she stepped out of bed, a tousled mess of dark hair, half-asleep eyes, and an effortless air that made it look like she’d just stepped out of a glossy magazine. She wore it like it was nothing. She moved through the world with a quiet, steady confidence that made everything around her feel a little... less important. It wasn’t that Mara was perfect, but it sure seemed like she had mastered the art of making everything look flawless, no matter what was going on behind the scenes.Adora tried not to think about it. She didn't need to compare herself to Mara—not today. She’d promised herself that, even as the familiar ache of insecurity tugged at her chest. Today is going to be different. She repeated the mantra like a silent prayer. But that didn’t stop the lingering sting of the thought: Why does she make it look so easy?The sharp click of the closet door made her refocus. She yanked on a worn white t-shirt, the cotton fabric soft but frayed at the edges from overuse. The shirt was too snug now, clinging to her body a little tighter than it used to, the seams strained in places that hadn’t been an issue before. Still, she didn’t care. She was going to wear it anyway. She grabbed her red jock jacket, still warm from where she'd tossed it on the chair last night, smoothing it down as she slipped it on. The jacket smelled faintly of last night's practice—sweat and dust, but also something like a strange, hopeful energy that had become familiar to her over the past year. Her grey jeans fit like they always did, snug at the waist and fading slightly at the knees from constant wear, but they didn’t bother her. They felt like the armor she’d settled into, even if they weren’t exactly new or exciting. Today, they were enough.The house hummed with the usual morning sounds—the quiet whir of the fridge in the background, the soft clink of ceramic against the granite countertop as Razz shuffled about. It all felt like the same routine, the same rhythm that had played out countless times before, but there was something about today that made it feel... different. Or maybe it was just Adora who was different—at least, that’s what she kept telling herself.By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could already hear the low murmur of voices coming from the kitchen. She hesitated for a split second at the base of the stairs, just enough to remind herself to take a deep breath. She hadn’t even bothered to check her reflection yet, but somehow she knew what it would say: you’re not Mara, and that’s okay. The thought didn’t ease her mind, but it did make her move forward.She rounded the corner to the kitchen, and there she was: Mara. Of course. Leaning against the kitchen counter in that signature relaxed posture, like she’d been standing there forever and had no intention of ever moving. One elbow tucked into the corner, cup of coffee in her hand, steam rising in lazy swirls from the black liquid as she gazed into space, eyes half-lidded, lost in some private thought. The look on her face wasn’t focused or strained—it was serene, like the weight of the world just didn’t reach her. The morning light, slanting through the windows, caught in her dark hair, casting soft shadows that made everything about her seem impossibly well put together. Even her messy, sleep-rumpled hair looked somehow deliberate, like it had been styled to look effortlessly tousled.Behind her, Razz was humming to herself, a low, content sound that filled the space with warmth. She was stirring something in a pot on the stove, swaying her hips slightly to the rhythm of whatever tune was playing in her head. Adora could hear the scrape of the spatula against the pan, the dull thud of it against the pancake batter as Razz mixed and flipped, her movements uncoordinated but somehow graceful in their own way.There was a faint burn mark on the edges of the pancakes, the edges darkening to a deep, crispy brown, but Razz didn’t seem to mind. She never did. Pancakes, burnt or perfect, were still breakfast—and still tasted the same to her, even if the rest of the world would’ve cringed at the sight. The scent of burnt batter hung thick in the air, adding a slightly charred, warm undertone to the kitchen’s usual mix of smells—coffee, toast, the faint scent of cleaning products, and the calming scent of home. It was all a strange, comforting combination that made Adora feel... safe in a way. Like things weren’t as complicated as they seemed."Another year at Brightmoon High, huh?" Mara wore her usual smirk as she leaned against the kitchen counter."Yeah, exciting," Adora mumbled. She wanted to be excited—she still had Bow and Glimmer, after all. Plus, Mermista, Perfuma, and Seahawk always made things interesting in their own chaotic ways. But things felt… different this year.Ever since Entrapta started hanging out with them.It wasn’t that Adora disliked Entrapta. The girl was brilliant—probably the smartest person at Brightmoon High. But she was also unpredictable, her enthusiasm often leading to unintended disasters. Like last week, when she'd modified Bow’s arrows to shoot confetti, only for one to misfire during gym class and nearly take out a ceiling fan. Or the time she reprogrammed the lunchroom vending machine to dispense free snacks—until it started flinging granola bars at students at high velocity.Adora sighed, staring into her orange juice as Mara plopped down across from her. "Just be careful," Mara said, arching a brow. "You look like you’re expecting the school to explode.""With Entrapta around?" Adora shot her a look. "I wouldn't rule it out."Mara chuckled, shaking her head. "Well, if anything does blow up, at least it won’t be boring."That was what worried Adora the most ***** The moment Adora stepped onto the Brightmoon High campus, the familiar buzz of first-day excitement surrounded her like a storm she wasn’t quite ready to step into. Students swarmed the front courtyard, their voices overlapping in an almost deafening hum—friends reuniting after a long summer apart, laughter ringing out between them as they swapped exaggerated vacation stories. Some groaned about their early schedules, clutching coffee cups like lifelines, while others excitedly compared notes on which teachers were the strictest, the easiest, or the most likely to forget about homework altogether.The scent of freshly cut grass mingled with the artificial tang of cafeteria food, the latter wafting from the open double doors of the school entrance. Lockers clanged open and shut, their metallic echoes bouncing through the hallways. A teacher’s exasperated voice pierced the air from a nearby classroom, desperately trying—and failing—to restore order to an already rowdy homeroom. Somewhere across the quad, a football thudded against the pavement, followed immediately by a yelp and a shouted apology.It was all the same. And yet, somehow, this year already felt different.And then she saw them.Catra was exactly where Adora expected her to be—leaning against the school gates like she owned them, one boot propped up against the metal bars, casual and untouchable. Her cropped black jacket rested effortlessly over her shoulders, worn open over a loose gray tank top, and the late-summer breeze tousled her dark, perpetually messy hair. The sharp angles of her face were partially obscured by a pair of mirrored sunglasses, but Adora didn’t need to see her eyes to know exactly what expression she was wearing. Smug. Confident. Untouchable.She twirled a keychain around her finger, the little silver bell attached to it jingling softly with each lazy spin. The sound was almost lost in the noise of the courtyard, but Adora heard it anyway. She always did. It sent an unwelcome pang of nostalgia through her chest, sharp and unbidden.Beside her, Scorpia towered over the rest of the group, her usual wide, eager grin firmly in place as she gestured animatedly, clearly in the middle of telling some dramatic story. Her massive arms swung as she spoke, nearly smacking Kyle in the face as she did. Kyle, true to form, yelped and stumbled back, nearly toppling over his overstuffed backpack.Lonnie, standing next to them, rolled her eyes, arms crossed over her chest, clearly unimpressed. But the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth gave her away—she was listening, even if she pretended not to care.And right in the middle of them—laughing, talking, fitting in like she had always belonged—was Entrapta.Adora’s stomach twisted.Entrapta’s wild purple pigtails bounced as she spoke, moving with boundless energy as she shoved her phone toward Catra, who tilted her head to watch whatever was on the screen with mild interest. The longer she watched, the more that mild interest deepened into something sharper, her smirk curling with knowing amusement. Entrapta, oblivious as always to any underlying subtext, kept talking, hands flying as she launched into what was undoubtedly an overly complicated explanation of whatever she was showing them.She looked… different.Instead of her usual grease-stained lab coats and oversized hoodies, she was wearing something jarringly formal—a neatly pressed navy-blue skirt, a crisp white button-up tucked into a matching vest, and a carefully knotted tie at her throat. The uniform was immaculate, not a single wrinkle in sight. Adora had heard from Bow that Entrapta’s parents had insisted she wear it, hoping it would make her look more “presentable.” At first, she had protested—loudly, in the form of several experiments involving fabric durability and ink stain resistance—but eventually, she had come around to the idea, saying something about "hypothesis testing" and how a more put-together appearance might positively impact her social interactions.Adora doubted that had much to do with why she was standing there now."Ugh, they’re already here," Glimmer groaned, appearing beside Adora with a scowl. Her arms were crossed tightly, her nose scrunching in irritation as she glared toward the group. "And of course, Entrapta’s still with them."Bow sighed, adjusting the strap of his bag. "I keep telling myself she’s just interested in their snacks, but I don’t know anymore…"It was a flimsy excuse, and they all knew it. Sure, Catra’s crew had a reputation for smuggling in the best vending machine junk food—Lonnie always had a stash of spicy chips, and Scorpia had an odd obsession with granola bars—but that wasn’t what Entrapta was there for. Not really."Doesn’t matter," Adora said, forcing her voice to stay neutral as she straightened her shoulders. "They can do whatever they want. We have our own thing."She wanted to believe that.But then Catra’s sharp, heterochromic eyes flicked up and locked onto hers.For a split second, nothing else existed.Adora barely registered the sounds around her anymore—the chatter of students, the clanging lockers, the rustling breeze that carried the scent of late summer through the air. The courtyard might as well have gone silent.Catra’s gaze held hers, steady and unyielding, and Adora felt something tighten in her chest.Then, slowly, deliberately, Catra’s lips curled into a smirk.It was lazy and confident, the kind of expression that sent a clear message without needing words. A challenge. A taunt. A silent acknowledgment that she knew exactly what was going through Adora’s head. That she saw every flicker of doubt, every ounce of tension, every unspoken question Adora hadn’t quite dared to voice.Adora’s jaw clenched.Something told her this year was going to be anything but simple.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The first day of school was always the worst.Adora had barely stepped inside before the chaos hit her full force.The hallways of Brightmoon High were a mess of students shoving past each other, some moving with the frantic energy of people who had completely forgotten where their lockers were, others dragging their feet like prisoners marching toward their doom. Voices overlapped, conversations colliding in an unrelenting hum of sound—gossip from the summer, complaints about schedules, desperate attempts to swap out of Ms. Razz’s history class before she made them reenact another historical battle using nothing but mop handles and sheer determination.The scent of overly strong industrial floor cleaner still lingered in the air, mixing with the artificial, vaguely cheese-like smell wafting from the cafeteria down the hall. Someone had already spilt something sticky near the entrance—probably a latte from the new coffee shop that had opened across the street—and students kept stepping around it, muttering under their breath as their shoes made unfortunate squelching noises.Adora tried to ignore all of it, but she could feel the beginnings of a headache forming at the base of her skull.The school wasn’t different.She was.And she hated it.Adora had spent most of last night lying awake, staring at her ceiling, convincing herself that this year would be just like any other. She still had Bow and Glimmer. They still had their routine—morning meetups, shared lunch periods, late-night study sessions that inevitably devolved into Glimmer throwing popcorn at Bow when he got too distracted explaining how historical battle formations worked.But now…Entrapta.The thought of her sitting with them still made Adora’s stomach clench.It wasn’t like she and Entrapta had been best friends. They hadn’t been attached at the hip like she was with Bow and Glimmer. But she had been part of their group. Part of their team. A chaotic, unpredictable, occasionally terrifying part, but still…Adora had never really imagined this.The sound of lockers slamming nearby made her flinch, snapping her out of her thoughts. She exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders back, forcing herself to focus.It was fine.It wasn’t her problem."Adora."A nudge against her arm. She turned to see Bow watching her, his expression somewhere between concerned and expectant."You okay?" he asked, adjusting the strap of his bag."Fine," Adora said, probably too quickly to be convincing.Bow didn’t push, but the small crease between his brows told her he didn’t believe her, either.Glimmer, however, had no such restraint."Uh-huh," she said, unimpressed, as she yanked open her locker with a sharp clang. "You’re totally fine. Which is why you’ve been making that face for the last five minutes."Adora frowned. "What face?"Bow and Glimmer exchanged a look.Bow cleared his throat. "It’s kind of a mix between ‘mild existential crisis’ and ‘about to punch something.’"Adora exhaled through her nose, shoving her locker open with more force than necessary. "I’m fine.""Right," Glimmer muttered. "And I’m the queen of Etheria."Adora ignored her.She focused instead on shoving her books inside, organizing them with rigid precision—math, history, science, combat training. Her schedule was almost identical to last year’s, just a few room swaps and a new elective that Bow had talked her into. Engineering Principles sounded like an excuse for him and Entrapta to build things that would probably explode, but he had seemed so excited about it that she had caved.She regretted that now.It was a class they were supposed to take together.But somehow, she doubted Entrapta would be sitting next to them.Glimmer let out an irritated huff beside her. "I just don’t get it," she muttered, stuffing books haphazardly onto her shelves. "Why them?"Bow sighed, spinning his lock a few times before clicking it open. "Maybe she just likes the science equipment in their secret lair or whatever they call it."Glimmer snorted. "Please. Their ‘lair’ is just an old maintenance room that Scorpia’s dad forgot existed.""Yeah, but they did rewire the lights to flicker ominously," Bow pointed out. "That’s gotta count for something."Adora exhaled sharply, pressing her forehead against the cool metal of her locker for a second before opening it. "It doesn’t matter," she said, quieter this time.Because it shouldn’t.She had enough to deal with this year without worrying about Entrapta’s new friends.And yet.A loud crash echoed from down the hall, followed by a startled yelp and several students scrambling out of the way.Adora turned just in time to see Kyle sprawled on the floor, his backpack’s contents scattered around him, while Lonnie stood over him with an unimpressed look."Come on, Kyle, you have to actually catch the book when I toss it to you," she said.Kyle groaned, rubbing the back of his head. "You threw it at me, Lonnie!""I tossed it," Lonnie corrected, then turned away, already bored.Adora shook her head, about to turn back to her locker when she noticed someone crouched next to Kyle, helping gather his things.Entrapta.She handed him a notebook before scooping up one of his pencils, examining it like it was some kind of rare artifact. "Ooh, did you know that the standard graphite pencil can withstand up to 14,000 PSI before breaking?"Kyle blinked. "Uh… no?""Fascinating," Entrapta murmured, flipping the pencil between her fingers before handing it back.Adora’s stomach twisted again.It wasn’t like Entrapta was best friends with Catra’s crew now, right? She was just… doing what Entrapta always did. Being curious. Looking for new experiences. Experimenting.And yet, when she stood up and turned back toward the others, Catra’s arm slung casually over her shoulder, guiding her toward their usual spot at the back of the hall.The easy way Entrapta fell into step beside her, still chattering, still comfortable—that was new.And Adora wasn’t sure she liked it.She slammed her locker shut with more force than necessary."Okay, you’re definitely not fine," Glimmer said, raising an eyebrow.Adora took a breath, shoving whatever she was feeling deep down where it couldn’t distract her. "I said it doesn’t matter," she repeated.Even though it did.It really, really did.*****Adora forced herself to focus as she followed Bow and Glimmer down the crowded hallway, ignoring the swirling frustration in her chest.She refused to look back. Refused to see if Entrapta was still laughing with them.But even as she walked, her thoughts kept circling back to the same thing.It wasn’t like Entrapta was her best friend. But she had been theirs. She had been part of their late-night study sessions, their chaotic group projects, their ridiculous debates over which cafeteria meal was the least awful.Now, she was over there.With Catra.Adora’s jaw tightened. She barely noticed the students darting past her, too caught up in the restless energy buzzing under her skin.Until she heard the commotion.A sharp crash!A startled yelp!And then—“MY LOVE, I AM DROWNING!”Adora turned just in time to see a truly ridiculous sight.Seahawk lay sprawled in the middle of the hallway, arms flung dramatically over his head as soapy water pooled around him, his long coat sopping wet. His boots skidded uselessly against the tile as he tried (and failed) to push himself upright. The overturned janitor’s bucket spun in place beside him, water still sloshing out onto the floor.Students scrambled to step around the mess. A few first-years looked absolutely bewildered."Seahawk, what—" Adora started, but she was cut off by more yelling."MERMISTA! IF THIS IS THE END, KNOW THAT I REGRET NOTHING!"Mermista, standing a few feet away, pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh my god."Glimmer crossed her arms. "What happened this time?"Seahawk flailed again. "I was simply making my grand return to Brightmoon High, striding confidently toward my next adventure, when—""You weren’t watching where you were going," Mermista deadpanned."Details," Seahawk said with a dismissive wave.Bow sighed and bent down to help him up, but just as Seahawk got one foot under him—Whoosh!His boot slipped.There was a moment of pure, horrifying silence—And then Seahawk crashed back down, limbs flying, sending another wave of soapy water splashing in every direction.A group of passing students yelped as they jumped back.Even Adora had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing."Okay, you’re actually ridiculous," Mermista muttered, grabbing the back of his coat and hauling him up in one swift motion.Seahawk beamed, shaking water from his sleeves. "Ah, Mermista! My hero!"Mermista groaned.Adora turned to Glimmer and Bow. "We should probably get to class before this gets worse.""Yeah," Glimmer said, eyeing Seahawk as he immediately slipped again, only saved by Mermista grabbing his arm. "Before we all drown in his dramatics."With that, they stepped past the commotion and into the nearest classroom—History of Warfare.Adora let out a breath as she took in the familiar walls, covered in old maps and faded banners. The massive chalkboard was already filled with battle diagrams and hastily scrawled notes. But the real giveaway of whose class this was?The bold, swirling script on the board:"HISTORY IS POWER. KNOWLEDGE IS A WEAPON. PREPARE YOUR MINDS FOR BATTLE."Adora didn’t even need to see the teacher to know who had written it.And sure enough—The door swung open, and Castaspella strode inside.Her deep purple robes billowed dramatically as she moved, a golden sash draped over her shoulders. She had the presence of someone who knew she could command attention with a single glance—and she did exactly that as she stepped to the front of the room, eyes sweeping over the students."Ah," she said, smiling. "My warriors have returned."Glimmer groaned softly. "Oh no, not auntie." Glimmer already saw enough of castapella during family reunions."Good morning, Professor Castaspella," Bow said, far too politely.Castaspella clasped her hands together. "It is a good morning! A morning filled with opportunity—to learn, to grow, to conquer!"Adora was pretty sure she saw a first-year in the back row shrink in their seat."As you all know," Castaspella continued, sweeping an arm toward the board, "history is not merely a record of the past—it is a guide. A teacher in its own right. And this year, my dear students, you shall not only study it—"Her golden eyes gleamed."—you shall live it."A long silence followed.Bow coughed."Um," Kyle hesitantly raised a hand from the other side of the room. "Are we going to, uh… reenact battles again?"Castaspella beamed. "Ah, Kyle! Excellent question!"Kyle visibly regretted asking.The teacher turned back to the board and—with an impressive flourish of chalk—began scribbling out dates and names, battle formations and tactical breakdowns.Adora let out a small sigh.Yep.This was going to be a long year.*****Meanwhile, Across the Hall…"Okay, so theoretically," Entrapta was saying, eyes gleaming with excitement, "if I hacked the school’s bell system, I could replace the standard tones with customized auditory signals—which would be a much more efficient way to communicate!"Catra raised an eyebrow, smirking as she leaned against the lockers. "And by ‘efficient,’ you mean ‘definitely against school rules,’ right?"Entrapta hummed in thought. "Mmm… only if I don’t get permission first."Lonnie groaned. "Please tell me you’re not actually considering hacking the school’s bells.""But think of the potential!" Entrapta insisted. "Personalized chimes! Victory horns! The ability to play battle marches between classes!"Scorpia gasped. "Ooooh, dramatic music! I love it."Kyle, still slightly damp from nearly slipping on Seahawk’s hallway disaster, raised a hesitant hand. "Could we not make the school explode on the first day?"Catra rolled her eyes. "You guys worry too much.""Because you never have to deal with the consequences," Lonnie muttered.Entrapta, meanwhile, was already pulling up something on her tablet. "Oh! I did find a way to loop an epic orchestral soundtrack into the intercom system. It only overrides announcements a little—""Entrapta," Lonnie cut in.Entrapta blinked. "Yes?"Lonnie sighed. "I hate how excited you look right now."Catra just chuckled, arms still lazily crossed. "Let her have her fun."Then, casually—almost too casually—she glanced down the hall.Right at Adora.Her grin deepened.Adora didn’t have to look back. She could have kept walking, could have ignored it.But she didn’t.For one long, stretched-out moment, their eyes met.Catra’s gaze was slow and knowing, her smirk curling at the edges. She raised one hand in a mocking little wave—just a flick of her fingers.Adora’s stomach twisted.She yanked her eyes away and strode past without acknowledging it.But that smirk lingered in her mind, long after she was gone.