The science cupboard at Northwood High was a narrow, windowless room lined with shelves of beakers, Bunsen burners, and boxes of chemicals. Its door had a habit of sticking, especially in the humid June weather. On Monday afternoon, during the last period, Year 9 students were supposed to be collecting equipment for a titration experiment. But when Leo reached for the handle, it wouldn't budge.

"Great," he muttered, rattling the door. "It's locked."

Mia, who had been waiting behind him with a tray, sighed loudly. "Did you try turning the key properly?"

"There is no key, Mia. It's a push-lock. Someone must have jammed it from inside." Leo stepped back and gestured at the door. "Or maybe it's just stuck. Happens all the time."

Mia set her tray down on a nearby bench and crossed her arms. "We're supposed to have the equipment ready in five minutes. Mr. Chen will blame us."

Leo felt his jaw tighten. He knew that tone—the one that implied he was somehow responsible. "I didn't lock it. I just got here."

"I'm not saying you did. But you're the one who tried first. Maybe you forced it and broke the mechanism."

"That's ridiculous. I barely touched it." Leo turned back to the cupboard and gave the handle a firm twist. The lock clicked, and the door swung open. "See? It was just stuck."

Mia didn't look convinced. She stepped past him and began pulling out beakers. "Whatever. Let's just get the stuff and go."

But Leo didn't move. He stood in the doorway, watching her work. The tension between them had been building for weeks—ever since Mia had been chosen as lab monitor over him. He'd thought he was the obvious candidate; he'd helped set up experiments all year. But Mr. Chen had said Mia showed "better organisational skills." The words still stung.

"You know," Leo said slowly, "if you'd let me help with the inventory last week, maybe we wouldn't be rushing now."

Mia's hand paused over a box of pipettes. "I didn't need help. I had it under control."

"Under control? You left the acid bottles on the top shelf where no one can reach them."

"That's where they're supposed to go. Safety regulations." She turned to face him, her eyes narrow. "Look, if you have a problem with how I run things, take it up with Mr. Chen. Don't take it out on me."

Leo felt his face flush. "I'm not taking anything out on you. I'm just saying—"

"You're just saying that you think you should be lab monitor. I get it. But you weren't chosen. Deal with it."

The words hung in the air, sharp and final. Leo opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, the cupboard door swung shut behind him with a heavy click. He spun around and grabbed the handle. It didn't move. He twisted harder. Nothing.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said, his voice flat.

Mia's expression shifted from annoyance to alarm. "Did you lock us in?"

"No, I didn't lock us in! The door just closed." He rattled the handle again. "It's the same problem—the lock mechanism is faulty."

Mia stepped forward and tried the handle herself. It was immovable. She let out a frustrated breath. "Great. Now we're trapped in a cupboard. This is perfect."

Leo leaned against the shelf, his arms crossed. "At least we have plenty of chemicals. We could try to dissolve the lock."

"That's not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be funny. I was trying to lighten the mood."

Mia sat down on a crate of rubber stoppers. "Well, don't. Just... don't."

They sat in silence for a long moment. The only light came from a single bulb above them, casting long shadows across the cluttered shelves. Leo could hear the faint hum of the ventilation fan and, somewhere down the hall, the distant sound of a door slamming.

"I'm sorry," Mia said finally, her voice quieter. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I've just been stressed about the science fair project. My group isn't pulling their weight."

Leo uncrossed his arms. "Yeah, I know what that's like. My group keeps forgetting to record their data."

"It's frustrating. And then I take it out on you." She looked at him, and for the first time, her expression softened. "I know you wanted the monitor position. You deserved a fair shot."

"I did get a fair shot. Mr. Chen made the right call. You're better at organising than I am." He paused. "I just wish I'd handled it better."

Mia nodded. "Me too."

Just then, they heard footsteps in the corridor. Leo banged on the door. "Hey! We're stuck in here!"

A muffled voice replied, "Who's in there?"

"Leo and Mia. The door's jammed."

There was a pause, then the sound of someone trying the handle from outside. "It's locked. Hang on, I'll get Mr. Chen."

Minutes later, the door swung open, revealing Mr. Chen holding a screwdriver. "The lock's been sticking all week. I should have fixed it sooner. You two all right?"

"We're fine," Mia said, stepping out. "Just a bit cramped."

Leo followed her into the bright corridor. He glanced at Mia, and she gave him a small, tentative smile. He smiled back. The argument felt distant now, like a bad dream fading in the morning light. They still had their differences, but maybe that was okay. Some conflicts, he realised, weren't meant to be won—just understood.