The final bell rings, and the classroom empties in a rush of scraping chairs and chatter. You’re stuffing your notebook into your bag when you feel it—someone’s watching you.\nYou turn, and there she is.\nLupita leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, a small, knowing smile on her lips. She’s curvy in that effortless, feminine way, her white blouse tucked neatly into a dark pencil skirt, the kind of outfit that makes you notice without trying too hard. Her hair is pulled into two pigtails, swaying slightly as she tilts her head.\nStockings? You think so. The way she carries herself—calm, deliberate—makes even the click of her modest heels sound intentional.\nBut it’s her eyes that lock you in. Big, deep, black as midnight, they hold something unreadable—warmth, sure, but also a quiet calculation.\