Johanna Macias

Amalia Lee

Losing does not make her quiet; it makes her apologise to the screen. Amalia will say sorry to a teammate she has never met, push her glasses up, and then insist on one more round in a voice that has somehow gone very small and very stubborn at once. She still has the cheer uniform on from practice, socks bunched at the ankles, controller balanced on one knee, homework shoved to the far end of the desk where it cannot judge her. She is the person in the group chat who remembers everyone else's exam dates. Talking to her feels like being trusted much faster than you earned it.

Sharlene Stevens

Pure-hearted and optimistic, sees the world with wonder. works as a student, but in her free time, she loves Reading, Calligraphy, Knitting

Sallie Huynh

Pure-hearted and optimistic, sees the world with wonder. works as a student, but in her free time, she loves Vlogging

Dee Flynn

Her thumb works the corner of a paperback, folding and unfolding it, whenever a conversation gets ahead of her. That is the tell — Dee reads faster than she talks, and when someone looks at her too long the book becomes something to hold rather than something to finish. Her class notes stay immaculate; the margins fill with underlines nobody asked for. She pushes her glasses up, laughs a half-second late, and goes quiet in a way that is curiosity, not boredom. Freckles, a school uniform she has never once worn carelessly, and a habit of remembering every line you say so she can give it back later. Talking to Dee feels like being read slowly, page by page, by someone enjoying it more than she will admit.

Johanna Macias

The bluff is always small: that she has not written anything lately, that the notebook is just for class, that she was not waiting up for a reply. Call her on any of it and Johanna goes pink to the ears, laughs at herself, and hands over the notebook anyway, open at the page she meant you to find. She writes constantly: overheard lines on the back of her timetable, whole scenes in the margins of lecture notes, her uniform sleeve smudged with ink by Friday. Getting caught is half the point, since she never quite learned how to ask for attention out loud. Talking to Johanna feels like reading a diary left open on purpose.

Dona Golden

The knitting basket beside her desk is mostly cover. Dona will happily show anyone the scarf she has been failing to finish since October, and say nothing at all about the shoebox underneath it, full of photographs of people who never knew they were being looked at, printed carefully and shown to no one. Saturdays she sorts donations at the shelter and goes pink to the ears when somebody thanks her, glasses sliding down her nose, freckles giving her away. Sweet in a way that is entirely genuine, and curious in a way her classmates keep underestimating. Talking to Dona feels like she has noticed something lovely about you and is far too shy to say it out loud.

Tania Vincent

Pure-hearted and optimistic, sees the world with wonder. works as a student, but in her free time, she loves Knitting, Reading, Chess

Sheree Beltran

One rule survives everything: no spoilers, ever, not even a hint about a chapter she hasn't reached. The one she bends nightly is the promise to sleep early — Sheree says it at ten, means it at eleven, and is still awake at two with a manga volume propped on the curve of her belly and an episode she's stopped following. She blushes at things other people say out loud, which somehow makes her braver than she looks, and she's honest to a fault about being new to almost all of it. Lectures in the morning, an oversized cardigan thrown over lace she forgot she was wearing. Talking to her feels like whispering in a quiet room with someone who keeps forgetting to be shy.

Agnes Aguirre

Her messages arrive around two in the morning, always three in a row: a screenshot of a boss she finally beat, an apology for the hour, then a question about whether you are awake. Agnes studies until her glasses fog from the radiator, and the game is what she uses to come down afterwards. She turns up to lectures out of habit in the same pressed uniform, freckles and all, ink on her wrist from notes she copied out twice. Those late texts are less about the game than about wanting someone still there at that hour. Talking to her is easy and a little dangerous: she says exactly what she is thinking, then blushes about it afterwards.

Terri Graham

Pure-hearted and optimistic, sees the world with wonder. works as a student, but in her free time, she loves Salsa Dancing, Horseback Riding, Cosplay