The cafeteria at Columbus North High School was, on most days, a vortex of chaotic energy—half spilled smoothies, weird salad combinations, and one rogue student trying to barter an extra brownie with Pokémon cards. But the staff lounge? That was sacred ground.

And today, that sacred space was about to get a dose of Fliss.

Andrew and Daniel entered first, with matching lunch totes and unspoken married telepathy. Andrew, dressed in his usual cardigan-over-button-down combo, had already begun prepping everyone's spots with little Post-It note jokes. Daniel had exactly three sleeves rolled up and a "I'm trying my best" energy that was quickly replaced by smug husband glow when Andrew handed him an oat bar.

"Brace yourselves," Daniel announced, pushing open the door wider. "We've brought someone new."

Behind them, Fliss walked in with confident steps and her trademark jacket, a pair of sunglasses still perched on her head like she had plans to hop on a yacht right after grading midterms.

The room erupted into curious stares and half-chewed greetings.

"Everyone," Andrew said, gesturing proudly, "this is Fliss. She's new to admin. She's cool. She's seen some stuff."

"I've seen things that would haunt your dreams," Fliss said dryly, dropping her lunch on the table. "But I've also taught detention on a cruise ship. So."

"Whaaat?!" came the first voice from the crew—Madison, naturally, with her graphic tee that read Your Article Has No Sources and a half-empty bottle of kombucha.

Maria, arms full of pastel sticky notes and two empanadas, grinned. "She passes the vibe check already."

Tanisha, sipping something green and unsettling, pointed her fork at Fliss. "We do icebreakers at lunch. Don't fight it."

Lucia, already pulling out her crochet needles like a dagger, added: "You get one truth, one lie, one unexpected music taste."

"Are you guys a lunch crew or a low-key cult?" Fliss asked, eyebrow raised.

Brendan, already sitting crisscross on the couch, sipping chamomile, smiled like a peaceful storm. "Bit of both."

"Welcome," said Mike, nodding while doing pushups next to the table because that's how Mike relaxed apparently.

Malik, clay still under his fingernails, scooted over and grinned. "I like you already, Fliss. You look like you've survived being blamed for something in a group project."

"I was blamed for mutiny once," she replied.

There was a beat.

"See?" Madison whispered. "Icon."

"So," Tanisha prompted, as everyone settled. "Truth, lie, fun music taste. Hit us."

Fliss folded her arms. "Alright. One—I once crashed a Jet Ski into a sandbar. Two—I dated a magician named Kyle who disappeared mid-date. Three—I'm a Swiftie, but only kind of."

Madison immediately shot up a finger. "The magician story is way too specific. That one's true."

"Jet ski sounds too on brand to be fake," Lucia said. "And if you say you're only kinda a Swiftie, I bet your Spotify Wrapped says otherwise."

Brendan, sipping tea: "I sense deception in your calm tone."

Maria leaned forward. "You're not a casual Swiftie. You're a Gracie Abrams girl."

Fliss blinked. "How'd you—"

"Your jacket," Maria said, matter-of-factly. "It screams I cried to 'Where do we go now?' and then ran five miles to clear my head."

Fliss held up her hands. "Okay, okay. Fine. You got me. I'm a full-on Gracie Abrams devotee. I drove five hours for a pop-up vinyl signing and cried in my car afterward."

Mike patted her shoulder. "You're one of us now."

"Yeah," Daniel added, biting into a veggie wrap, "you'll fit right in with our emotional damage club. There are no dues. Just playlists."

"Honestly," Andrew said, pouring apple slices into a bowl, "the longer you stay at Columbus North, the more likely you are to trauma bond with us by the third staff meeting."

"Unless you're Mona," Tanisha muttered.

At the very mention of her name, the room deflated slightly.

"Mona," Malik said, with the weight of someone saying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Oh, we're talking about her?" Madison said, eyes already blazing.

"We're not not talking about her," Maria added with a bite of empanada.

Lucia's eyebrows shot up. "She had vibes this morning."

"By vibes, you mean?" Brendan asked.

"She was wearing white pants so tight," Madison said, "I swear she gave herself an ego cramp."

"She lectured someone for chewing gum with 'electrochemical distraction,'" Mike said.

"Was she not banned from the sorority party group chat?" Fliss asked.

Daniel leaned toward her. "Let's just say: she brought buffalo dip, ruined a carpet, demanded we play Nickelback at a Taylor Swift party, and accused Madison of emotional sabotage because she didn't vote Mona's solo for the party playlist."

"I said she couldn't sing over a Lana Del Rey track!" Madison defended. "And she hasn't let it go since 2013!"

"Wait…" Fliss held up her hand. "Is this the same Mona who did the 'I need to recharge in solitude' post on Instagram every break but came back clearly with a BBL?"

Everyone froze.

Andrew: "You think…?"

Maria (eyes wide): "She definitely has a winter break BBL energy."

"She walked in like the pelvis-to-thigh ratio had been structurally recalibrated," Lucia muttered.

"I teach Psychology," Tanisha said. "And I've never seen someone carry that much cognitive dissonance in their posterior."

Fliss raised her iced coffee like a toast. "To Mona. May her lectures stay firm and her coping mechanisms looser."

Everyone clinked coffee cups, Tupperware lids, and one rogue kombucha bottle in solidarity.

Andrew checked the clock and stood up. "Okay, I've got a kid coming in to talk about transferring because his locker is next to a motivational quote wall and it's 'too much pressure.'"

Daniel followed, grabbing his folder. "And I've got a hallway huddle where someone graffitied 'I AM THE LOVER ERA' on a locker."

Fliss grinned, standing too. "And I guess I have to find my office. Again."

Tanisha tossed her an extra brownie. "You survived your first lunch with us. That's the real hazing."

As they filed out of the lounge, the chaos of high school roared on, but the laughter lingered.

In a nearby classroom, Mona sat alone at her desk, chewing a dry salad and glaring at a chemistry textbook like it had personally offended her.

She scrolled through her phone, paused at an old group photo from the sorority party, zoomed in on Madison's smile, and scowled.

"Emotional sabotage," she muttered to no one.

Back in the lounge, Fliss leaned toward Daniel as they walked.

"She's gonna try to report me, isn't she?"

"Probably."

"Should I be worried?"

"Nah. We've all been on her list. It's kind of an honor."

They laughed, just as the bell almost rang. It didn't, because the bell system was broken again.

"Classic Columbus North," Fliss said, adjusting her jacket.

"Welcome to the family," Andrew added.

They walked off down the hall.

No bells.

Just stories.
Sarcasm.
Surprise brownie bonding.
And the eternal mystery of Mona's alleged BBL.