Gabriel slipped through the front doors of Jesvelt High just as the first bell rang, his breath fogging lightly from the morning chill. Without missing a step, he broke into a jog, weaving past half-awake students and slamming lockers. He was cutting it close. Again.
Biology was first period—and Ms. Shaina didn't tolerate lateness. She was a petite woman with sharp eyes, thick-rimmed glasses, and the kind of smile that never reached her voice. One tardy, and you'd be serving detention until your hair turned grey.
Gabriel burst into the biology lab just in time, chest rising and falling. Ms. Shaina hadn't arrived yet. He exhaled a soft sigh of relief and sank into his chair.
Seconds later, the door opened, and in she walked.
"Good morning."
"Good morning, miss," the class echoed back, voices uneven tired from the lack of sleep.
At first glance, it seemed like the day might pass without issue. But then he caught Harry watching him from two rows down, eyes narrowed like knives. Gabriel didn't know what the boy's problem was today—he usually tried to avoid him—but from the look on his face, Harry had already decided this wouldn't be a quiet morning.
Ms. Shaina clapped her hands.
"Today, we're dissecting frogs. Find a partner, collect your tools, and remember—you'll need to label each organ correctly on your worksheet."
Chairs scraped back immediately. Gabriel stood and locked eyes with Jai-Lee across the room. They made a beeline for each other.
"Partners?" he asked casually.
She scoffed. "Like you've got options. Come on—if we're too slow, we'll be stuck with the runt."
They picked a decent-sized frog and settled into their workstation. Jai-Lee already had that mischievous glint in her eye.
"You know you look like a mad scientist when you get like this," Gabriel teased, eyeing the scalpel she twirled between her fingers.
"I feel like that's my cue to cackle and rant about world domination," she said, sliding the scalpel just out of his reach, "but Ms. Shaina has a zero-tolerance policy on fun. And my dad said one more detention and I can kiss my birthday gift goodbye."
Gabriel chuckled as she leaned over the frog. "That's tragic. Maybe you should become a mad scientist. Prove a point."
"Exactly what I was thinking. He want's to act like villains? I'll show him how it's done," she replied, grinning as she made the first incision.
Gabriel turned his head, momentarily grossed out. "You're way too comfortable with this."
"Oh, come on. You're not even doing anything. I'm the one playing surgeon."
Gabriel offered a wry smile. He didn't say it out loud, but moments like this made him a little jealous of Jai-Lee. Her father might nag, hover, and meddle—but at least he was there. His mom was trying, but stretched too thin. His dad? He existed in texts, phone calls, and broken promises. Always too busy. Always just one project away from being present.
She caught the change in his expression.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." He nodded, brushing it off. "Just thinking."
They didn't need to say more. She understood.
The rest of the period passed in a blur of frog guts and quiet jokes. Gabriel and Jai-Lee worked in rhythm, their banter a steady shield against the rest of the world.
Second period: history. Otherwise known as nap class.
Gabriel took his usual seat in the back and stared blankly at the chalkboard while Mr. Carson launched into a lecture about the French Revolution. The man had been teaching for decades and sounded like he was reading from a faded script—no passion, just autopilot.
Gabriel's notebook stayed open, untouched. He watched sunlight drift across the desk instead, feeling the weight of the morning catch up to him.
At the front of the class, Jai-Lee tapped her pen against her chin, half-listening. She didn't bother pretending to pay attention. Instead, she glanced back and raised a brow.
A few seconds later, his phone buzzed.
Jai-Lee: You bored yet?
Gabriel: Dying.
He stifled a grin, but it faded quickly. That uncomfortable sensation was back—that sense that someone was watching him.
He looked up.
Harry.
Two rows over, arms folded, gaze fixed on him with that same sneer he always wore. Like Gabriel's existence offended him.
Gabriel pocketed his phone and turned back to the board, feigning interest in Mr. Carson's monotone delivery. The lecture dragged on, but eventually, mercifully, the bell rang.
He packed up quickly, eager to slip out unnoticed.
No such luck.
"Hey, rich boy."
Gabriel froze at the sound of Harry's voice. His tone was loud enough to turn heads but just quiet enough that a teacher wouldn't care.
"Need help carrying all that? Or is your locker too good for your fancy pens?"
Gabriel didn't answer. He kept his gaze down, stuffing his books into his bag. He knew the routine. Ignore him, don't escalate. But Harry stepped closer anyway.
Gabriel could smell the sweat on his football jacket and see the torn edges of his backpack covered in stickers. He hadn't changed out of his workout clothes, and the stench clung to him like arrogance.
A few students hovered nearby. One of them—Jason—cleared his throat, then pretended to check his schedule and walked away.
No one was stepping in. They never did.
That was the unspoken rule at Jesvelt. Don't get involved unless you wanted to be next.
Gabriel glanced up and spotted Ms. Riley walking in with a stack of papers. Harry noticed her too and backed off without a word, slinking to his seat while keeping his eyes locked on Gabriel.
The moment passed, but the tension didn't. Gabriel caught Jai-Lee's eye across the room. She looked concerned. He gave a small nod. He was fine. Not new to this.
Harry had hated him since day one.
It wasn't just about shoes or how Gabriel spoke—it was deeper than that. Sophomore year, Gabriel had transferred in after being suspended from his private school. Not for fighting. Not for skipping class.
For curiosity.
He'd broken into the chemistry lab after hours and started experimenting. One wrong mix. One minor explosion. No injuries—but enough to get him labeled a threat.
His parents went to war to keep him from being expelled, but they'd been furious. His dad didn't even take off his lab coat before lecturing him that night.
"What were you thinking?" he'd snapped, barely through the front door.
Gabriel had tried to explain—he just wanted to see what would happen. He wasn't trying to cause harm. But no one was listening.
And from that moment on, he'd felt like the black sheep. His dad stopped trusting him. His mom hovered. And instead of helping him through it, they dumped him into public school to "see how the real world worked."
Harry made sure he got the message.
Gabriel slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, jaw tight. First lunch was next.
But it didn't feel like a break.
It felt like the calm before another storm.