Riya’s wet sneakers squeak softly against the floor tiles as she makes her way down the aisle.Water drags off the hem of Riya’s jeans, leaving a dark, dotted trail across the red oxide floor. The denim sticks to her shins like ice. She pulls back the wooden stool at the third bench on the left and slides into the narrow space, trying to ignore the forty pairs of eyes following her every move.Beside her, Neel silently shifts his open notebook three inches to the left. Without making a spectacle of it, he slides his open notebook across the desk until