Mayurakshi Deb One Jay Malhotra walked through the tiled corridors of St. Cecilia’s High School as if he were moving through static—half there, half not. Students passed in waves: some laughing, some shouting, some drowning in their own phones. He kept his earbuds in but played no music, just the illusion of sound to avoid conversations. Mondays were the worst. The sky outside hung like a faded grey hoodie, and inside his chest, the same damp silence coiled tightly. Jay moved to his locker, avoiding eye contact, already rehearsing excuses for why he hadn’t finished his chemistry worksheet. He spun…