Kieran's Point of View
Mr. Halden glanced up from his desk, his usual calm demeanor still intact. "Jean, you'll need to head to the office to fill out some paperwork for your transfer. Go ahead and take care of that now, alright?"
Jean gave a slight nod, the same unreadable expression on her face. She stood there for a moment, waiting, and I couldn't help but notice how she just... didn't give a shit. She was calm, unaffected by the chaos around her, like she belonged here already.
"Whatever," I muttered under my breath, leaning back in my chair, eyes still locked on her.
But something about the way she carried herself tugged at me. It was like I'd seen her before.
That look she gave me when she left? I couldn't shake it. I knew her. I fucking knew her.
Where? When?
I felt this weird itch in my brain. Like she was some ghost from my past, one that I'd erased on purpose. But the feeling... the vibe she had? It was familiar. Too familiar.
She wasn't just some random new kid. Nah, she was someone I should've known. Hell, maybe I did know her once upon a time.
I scratched at the back of my neck, my thoughts all over the place, but nothing made sense. The room around me didn't even matter at that point—just this nagging feeling that I'd crossed paths with her somewhere before.
Then she glanced at me again—just a flash of eye contact before she left the room—and that was enough. The look she gave me? Like she knew something about me. Like we'd been in the same shit together before.
I bit my lip and tried to focus. Was I losing it? Or was she some kind of ghost from a past I didn't want to remember? Fuck if I knew. But I was going to find out. Somehow.
Who the hell is she?
Who she was, where I knew her from—it didn't matter. Not really. What mattered was the way everything around her shifted when she walked in. The way people noticed her. The way I noticed her.
And I didn't like that.
She was a problem. A ripple in calm water. And I've worked too damn hard to keep this place exactly the way I want it—quiet, predictable, under control. I don't do disruption. I hate chaos. And Jean? She was both, wrapped in a calm face and a smart mouth.
So no. I wasn't going to waste time digging through old memories like some lovesick idiot.
She needed to go.
And if no one else was going to make that happen, fine. I would.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the empty doorway like I could burn a plan into the air.
If she was going to stay, she'd ruin everything. So I'd make her want to leave. Isolate her. Make her uncomfortable. Turn the whole damn school against her if I had to.
I've done worse.
No guilt. No second thoughts.
This wasn't personal.
It was survival.
Three damn periods passed. Still no sign of her. Good.
Then Jennie plopped down next to me like she owned the air I was breathing.
Fuck.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Jennie's Point of View
I noticed Kieran acting off. His usual cocky, untouchable vibe was gone, replaced with a tense restlessness I couldn't ignore. He kept staring at the door like he was waiting for someone, or maybe hoping no one would walk through it. It wasn't like him to give a damn about who came and went.
I nudged him with my elbow, leaning in slightly to catch his attention. "You've been acting weird," I said, keeping my voice sharp enough to cut through whatever was messing with his head. "What's going on with you?"
He didn't answer at first, just sat there, eyes fixed on the front of the room, pretending like the walls might tell him what was wrong.
Then, finally, he muttered something under his breath. "I've seen her before," he said, his voice low and uncertain. "Or someone like her. I don't fucking know."
I tilted my head, studying him closely. I could tell he wasn't lying, but I also knew he wasn't about to spill the full story. "You sure?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "You don't usually forget a face."
His eyes flickered toward me for a moment, and I saw the familiar frustration in his gaze. "Exactly," he muttered, like the thought was bothering him as much as it was me.
I didn't push any further. I knew better than to try and get into his head when he was like this. But whatever was bugging him, it wasn't going away anytime soon.
I was about to say something else, but then my phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking the moment.
I pulled it out quickly, glancing at the screen. A message.
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From: J
Message : We need to talk. Meet me on the 2nd floor. Now.
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"Shit," I muttered under my breath.
Kieran didn't seem to notice, lost in whatever was still turning in his head.
I swallowed hard, stuffing the phone back into my pocket, feeling a wave of tension creep up my spine.
I glanced at Kieran again, and his eyes were still distant, still locked on the door, like he was waiting for something—or someone—to walk in. It was all I could do to keep the calm, cool face I always wore.
"I gotta go," I said, standing up quickly, not giving him a chance to dwell on whatever was going on in that messed-up head of his. I needed to get out of here. "Listen," I added, trying to soften my tone, even though I could feel the nervousness creeping in. "You're just overthinking it. The new girl probably just reminds you of someone from before, that's all."
But even I wasn't buying that. Something was off. Kieran wasn't the type to get hung up on things, especially not over some new girl. But he didn't need to know that. Not yet.
I hurried up the stairs, my footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. The second floor was always quieter, more isolated. It had the kind of silence that made you feel like you were about to uncover something you weren't supposed to know.
When I reached the top, I spotted her—Jean, the new girl. Yes, she.
Jean was already there, like she'd been waiting hours instead of minutes. Calm as hell, as usual, but her eyes said otherwise.
"Fuck, you are late." she said and didn't wait for me to say a single word. "Does he remember?" she asked, straight to the point.
I shook my head slowly. "Not really. Just... flashes. Like déjà vu that won't leave him alone."
Jean swore under her breath, barely loud enough to catch. "Fuck. It's too early."
"He's not connecting dots yet. He just knows your face messes with his head." I shrugged. "Can't blame him."
She looked away, jaw tight, like she was already calculating the next hundred steps. "Once it all clicks into place... everything changes."
And she was right.
Jean's voice dropped, eyes flicking toward the stairwell like someone might be listening. "All four of us were chosen for a reason. We play our parts, or everything falls."
I nodded.
Jean's eyes hadn't moved from the stairwell, like she was expecting Kieran to show up any second and blow everything sky-high.
I watched her a beat longer before asking, quietly, "When are we gonna tell him?"
She didn't answer at first. Just exhaled through her nose like she'd been holding that question in her chest for too damn long.
"After he turns eighteen," she said finally. "And only when he's ready. Not a minute before."
"Jean…" I started, but she cut me off.
"I know," she said. "I want to tell him too. But if we do it too early—if we rush it—he'll walk away. Or worse."
The air between us hung heavy with silence for a second. Then Jean squared her shoulders, voice turning cold.
"Until then… you need to act like you don't know me."
"What?" I blinked, frowning. "Why the hell would I—?"
"Because if he sees us getting along, he'll start asking questions. Questions we can't answer yet." Her tone didn't waver. "You're the only one he trusts. If you get close to me now, it'll mess with his head."
I didn't like it. At all. But I understood.
"Fine," I muttered. "But I'm not calling you a bitch in public to show like l don't know you."
Jean smirked. "That's cute. You think I care what you call me."
I rolled my eyes, already turning back toward the stairs. "You better be right about this."
"I am," she said. And I almost believed her.
It was just getting started.