"Hi, Hartley."

A voice drifted through the hallway as Hartley got his books out of his locker in the semi empty hallway. Yes, there was a disembodied voice talking to Hartley. Or so it seemed. Barry knocked almost politely on his own locker door, from the inside, trying to peer through the slats at the person making the noise on the otherside. At least he thought it was Hartley. It was kind of hard to tell, he didn't have good visual range. "...How's it going?"

Well, this was awkward.