Alaric stared at her like he was seeing a ghost. Which was funny, Virella thought—considering he was the one who faked being dead.
He took a cautious step toward her, tucking his hands in his pockets like that would somehow make him look less guilty. It didn't.
"You… actually came," he said, voice soft, like he still couldn't believe it.
"I thought I'd enroll," Virella said smoothly. "Catch up on some math. Maybe unravel why you're lying again."
Alaric blinked. "You're… serious?"
She nodded toward the ID badge clipped to her borrowed backpack. "Junior year. Homeroom 3B."
"I'm in 3B," he muttered, mostly to himself.
"Perfect," she replied, then leaned in, whispering just loud enough for him to hear, "Now you can't hide."
Before he could respond, Lena popped up beside her with a bright, mischievous smile. "This place smells like burnt coffee and despair. I love it."
Alaric blinked at her. "Wait—Lena? You enrolled too?"
"Someone has to take notes while you two brood at each other."
Behind them, a locker slammed. Virella turned to see Varen approaching, dressed in dark jeans and a black tee that made him look like a low-budget action star. Several students paused to gawk as he walked by.
Varen didn't spare Alaric a glance.
"Where's the gym?" he asked Virella. "I need to break something."
Alaric shifted uncomfortably. "Why is he here?"
"I like my limbs attached," Virella replied.
"This is absurd," Alaric muttered. "You brought a vampire hit squad to high school."
"We're students now," Lena said cheerfully. "Try not to die. Again."
The bell rang before anything else could be said. A chorus of groans and rushed footsteps filled the hallway as students shuffled toward class. Virella gave Alaric one last pointed look before walking away.
He followed, of course. Because of course he did.
---
Homeroom 3B was a windowless box with peeling posters and an overhead light that flickered like it was haunted. Virella took the seat in the back corner, next to the radiator. Lena sat beside her, humming a tune no human could hear. Alaric claimed the desk in front of Virella—close enough to talk, not close enough to touch.
The teacher, Mrs. Delrose, was a woman with tired eyes and a voice like chalk. She barely glanced at the new students.
"Virella… Lane?"
"Here."
"Lena Ashcroft?"
"Present and fabulous."
"Varen Lane?"
"Yeah," he said flatly.
"And… Alaric Ward?"
"Still here," he said under his breath, and Virella didn't miss the sideways glance he gave her.
Mrs. Delrose launched into a lecture about school rules, attendance, and the senior prank ban (apparently last year's frogs had gone very wrong). Virella didn't listen. Her focus was on Alaric's shoulders, tense under his hoodie, and the way his fingers drummed against his notebook like they couldn't sit still.
Why come back now?
Why pretend to be human again?
And more than that—why pretend she didn't matter?
---
At lunch, they sat beneath the bleachers in the abandoned section of the courtyard—a spot Lena found and immediately claimed as theirs.
"I don't trust the meatloaf," she said, poking at it with a stolen pencil.
"I don't trust him," Varen growled.
Alaric stood a few feet away, holding a tray but not sitting. "Do you want answers or not?"
Virella looked up at him, eyes cool. "Start with why you lied."
He hesitated. "Your brother hates me."
"True."
"He tried to kill me."
"Also true."
"I figured… if I disappeared, it'd be easier for you."
Varen scoffed. "You disappeared because you're a coward."
Alaric ignored him. "I never stopped thinking about you, Virella. I just thought it would hurt less if you believed I was gone."
"It didn't," she said quietly.
Lena cleared her throat. "Okay, emotional bomb dropped. Now what?"
"I want to make it right," Alaric said. "That's why I came back."
"You could've sent a letter," Varen muttered.
Virella held up a hand. "No fighting. Not now."
The tension simmered like sunlight on stone.
Finally, she stood, brushing off her uniform skirt. "You want to prove yourself? Fine. Be normal. Go to class. Try not to lie or vanish."
"Easier said than done," Alaric said with a rueful smile.
"Then don't say it. Show me."
He looked at her for a long moment, and something in his gaze softened. "Deal."
---
That evening, Virella sat alone on the school rooftop, watching the moon rise over the football field. She heard the door creak behind her before he even stepped out.
Alaric joined her silently, sitting on the ledge.
"I meant what I said," he told her. "I want to be here. With you."
"And Varen?"
"I won't run from him. Not this time."
She nodded, her gaze on the stars. "One more lie and I'll bury you myself."
He smiled faintly. "Fair."
For the first time in a hundred years, they sat side by side—not enemies, not strangers, not ghosts.
Just two ancient hearts pretending to be seventeen again.
---