Work Text:
Sasha walks down the hall, with Anne walking toward her from the other end. She’s walking with her new friend group, some girls she met at the tennis club. One of the girls says something, bringing a laugh out of Anne. Sasha looks away.
She brings a hand up to her hair. It’s short now, up to her shoulders, and sways from side to side as she walks. She lowers her hand, approaching Anne, and forces herself to look straight ahead. It’s not until she’s passing Anne that she spares a glance in her direction, and her heart drops as she sees Anne looking at her phone, paying no attention to her. Feeling a newfound ache forming, she continues forward, not daring to look back as she hears the sound of Anne’s laugh fade away behind her.
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Anne, now certain that Sasha won’t notice, looks back and sees Sasha’s new hair. It’s nice, she thinks, and hides a blush in her hand.