In the early morning, Iván let out a long yawn and stretched, his silver eyes slowly blinking open. As he sat up, he felt something cold and metallic in his hand. Looking down, he found the crescent moon pendant resting in his palm.
"What the hell…"
He groaned. "Too early for this shit."
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Iván stood up and tossed the pendant back into the drawer. Another yawn escaped him as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a plain T-shirt he'd picked up from a thrift store. He glanced at himself in the mirror, gave a small nod, and shrugged.
"Alright… school." He sighed. "Weird being the new kid, but hey—at least I'm not the only one."
He grabbed his backpack, double-checked the contents, and slung it over his shoulder, ready to face whatever the day had in store.
A glance at the clock told him he still had an hour to spare. He hurried down the stairs and spotted his sister, Sofía, face-planted on the kitchen table, groaning like a zombie.
He smirked.
"Looks like someone woke up angry."
Without lifting her head, Sofía groaned, "I just want one more hour of sleep…" as she slowly reached for their mom's coffee.
"Hey, don't even think about it," their mother said, folding her arms as her ember eyes glanced from the newspaper to Sofía. "You'll be bouncing off the walls all morning."
Iván walked in, planted a quick kiss on his mom's forehead, and grabbed a piece of bread. "Love you. Later, Sofi."
"Bye…" Sofía groaned, still half-asleep.
Iván dashed toward school, gripping both straps of his backpack tightly as he ran. As the new kid in town—or maybe the second-newest, depending on how you looked at it.
The school quickly came into view, but Iván had no time to admire the prison he was about to walk into.
He stepped inside, scanning the halls with cautious curiosity. Posters for the upcoming school dance lined the walls—Homecoming.
Damn, October's already around the corner, he thought. I didn't even go to homecoming last year—too much moving around.
Maybe this time… I'll give it a shot.
Iván quickly pulled out his class schedule, eyes narrowing when he saw the first subject—Chemistry.
"Great… just what I needed," he grumbled.
Looking up, he spotted two boys about his age chatting nearby. He approached them.
"Hey, I'm new here. Can you tell me where this classroom is?" he asked, holding out the paper.
One of the boys took a glance.
"Oh, you've got the same homeroom as us," the kid said with a friendly grin. "You can just follow us."
He handed the paper back. "I'm Scott, by the way—and this goofball here is Stiles."
"Sup," Stiles said with a nod, casually slinging an arm over Scott's shoulder like he was trying to look cool.
Iván chuckled. "Right. I'm Iván. Nice to meet you guys."
As they walked to class, Iván struck up a casual conversation with Scott, answering questions about where he was from and what brought him here.
"LA," he said with a shrug. "We just moved in a few days ago."
Before long, they reached their classroom, and Iván quickly found a seat, settling in and taking a deep breath as the day officially began.
"Settle in, students," Mr. Harris said. "I know a lot of you are curious about the whole dead body situation, but it was nothing more than a bear attack—nothing to worry about."
Iván barely paid attention to what the teacher was saying as he pulled out his notebook. His gaze drifted toward the window, where he spotted a girl sitting outside. She was the new kid he saw yesterday.
He looked for a moment, then quickly looked away. Still, he noticed Scott staring at her a little too long, his head tilted slightly, like he could hear what she was saying from that far away.
Iván rummaged through his backpack like a madman, growing more frustrated by the second. Finally, he blurted out, "Shit!" loud enough for the entire class to hear.
Mr. Harris immediately stopped, lifting his glasses and glaring at him.
"Iván, do you have something to say?"
"No… I just forgot my pencil," Iván muttered.
"Then come up and get one. And next time you shout in my classroom, it's straight to the principal's office. Understand me?"
"Yes, sir…"
"Oh, right—class, this is Iván, our new student," the teacher added quickly before turning back to the board.
Iván quietly made his way up to grab a pencil, trying not to draw any more attention to himself.
As Iván sat back down, the girl he had seen outside walked into the classroom, giving a small wave to everyone.
"Ah, class—we have another new student today," Mr. Harris announced. "Maybe this one won't interrupt," he added, shooting a glare at Iván.
Just great, Iván thought. A teacher who hates my guts on day one. Whatever… I'll just keep my head down.
"Now, would you please introduce yourself?" Mr. Harris prompted.
"I'm Allison. Nice to meet you all," she said with a polite smile before quickly making her way to the empty seat right next to Iván.
She was tapping her fingers awkwardly to ask, but then Scott came in, giving her pencil, Here he said with a small smile.
"Thank you," she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she accepted the pencil.
Iván watched the whole thing unfold, blinking slowly. The hell?
He was witnessing flirting happen right in front of him like some cheesy high school drama.
That also reminds me… He closed his eyes and crossed his arms. I've been getting a lot of stares from the girls since I got here. What can I say? I'm good-looking—straight genes from a bastard of a dad. If he left anything worthwhile behind, it's this face.
Which also means… great. My little sister's gonna have suitors one day. Guess I'll have to start planning their funerals.
"Hi," Allison whispered, leaning slightly toward him, clearly trying to start a conversation.
Iván glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She was stunning, dressed for the chilly weather, lips tinted a soft red, probably lipstick. Her skin was pale, but not in an unnatural way—flawless, like she could walk onto a runway without even trying.
Lucky for him, being shy around girls wasn't one of his flaws.
"Hey," he said, turning to face her fully. "I'm Iván." His silver eyes met hers.
"Wow," she murmured. "I've never seen eyes like yours before."
"A courtesy of my father," Iván replied with a small smirk.
She let out a soft chuckle, and for some reason, the air shifted—subtle, but Iván noticed it. His silver eyes narrowed as he glanced across the room.
Scott had snapped his pencil in half.
Interesting. Anger issues?
Iván had been there once. Karate classes helped… though he wasn't trying to brag, he was a black belt. Still, he preferred sword arts. There was just something about holding a blade—feeling its weight, its balance. It felt natural.
Too bad his mom didn't trust him enough to own a katana.
She was fine with her kids learning how to use firearms, but when it came to sharp objects? Absolutely not.
"So, Allison—you're new here, right?" Iván asked, sharpening his pencil as he started jotting down notes.
"Yeah," she replied with a small smile. "I've moved around a lot. So much so, it's hard to make real friends." Her eyes dimmed a little with the admission.
Iván nodded, his expression softening. "Yeah… I know that feeling."
"Wait, you do?" she asked, giving him a curious look.
"I'm new here too," he said. "I was born in L.A., but I've moved around a lot—lived in a bunch of smaller cities. I was in Oxnard for a while. Nice place.
"How come you move a lot? she asked him
Iván shrugged well, ever since my dad just up and left, my mom just moved us around, and you?
"My dad sells guns for a living," she said casually.
So that Chris guy I met yesterday sells weapons, Iván thought. Good to know where to go if I ever need to buy a gun, for, you know, dealing with my sister's future boyfriends. He nodded to himself, liking the idea.
Their conversation was cut short by the sound of the bell ringing. Iván quickly stuffed his things into his bag, then froze.
He felt a cold touch.
Looking inside, his eyes widened.
The moon pendant was sitting there.
"What…?" he muttered. "I swear I left this in my drawer…"
He rubbed his chin, pretending to stroke an imaginary beard, deep in thought.
Whatever
Iván zipped up his backpack, said goodbye to the new girl, and thanked Scott and Stiles for helping him out. Then he made his way to his next class… and then the next… and the next—until finally, it was lunchtime.
He headed toward the cafeteria without issue until a redhead stepped in his path.
"Hey, you," she said, curling a strand of her hair around her finger. "You're the new guy, right?"
"I am," he replied with a nod.
She eyed him up and down, but before she could say another word, a figure stepped out from around the corner and came to her side.
"Babe, is this guy bothering you?" the light-brown-haired teen asked, glaring at Iván.
Babe? Iván thought. Must be her boyfriend… probably best to avoid trouble before this gets messy.
He started to walk away, but the guy suddenly reached for his arm.
With a reflexive move, Iván twisted the boy's wrist, flipped him around, and slammed him against the lockers, pinning his arm behind his back.
"Don't touch me," Iván growled, eyes narrowed. He pushed the guy's arm a little higher, earning a scream of pain.
But then a sharp voice broke the tension.
"Iván, let him go!"
He turned, startled, to see his mother standing nearby—arms crossed, heels clicking against the floor, and an unmistakable glare in her eyes. She was clearly upset, already catching her son in the middle of a fight on his first day.
Iván sighed and quickly let the guy go. "My bad, bro. Reflex," he muttered before turning and walking away, not giving him a chance to respond.
Back home, an awkward tension hung in the air between Iván and his mom.
"So," she said, her voice tight with frustration, "are you going to tell me what happened at school today?" Her eyes burned with fury as she stared at him. "Because I'd like to know why my son had another teenager pinned against the lockers."
"Mom, he was reaching for my arm," Iván said defensively.
"Reaching for your arm? Or you thought he was?" she snapped. "Because from where I was standing, it looked a lot more serious. You could've broken that kid's arm, Iván."
Iván let out a sigh. "Yeah… maybe I should've just pulled my hand away instead of snapping like that," he admitted, reluctantly agreeing with his mom.
Because deep down, he knew—he did have the option to just step back. But instead, he chose the more violent reaction.
"And why are you staring at me like that, Sofi? You've been glaring at me this whole time," Iván said, narrowing his eyes.
"Oh, just enjoying the entertainment my sweet older brother has brought to the table," she replied with a sly grin.
Iván frowned. "I don't like the way you said that… What do you want? Spit it out."
"Oh, nothing," she said innocently. "But, Mommy, since my dear brother's been such a bad boy, can I have his Xbox?"
Iván gasped. She was plotting to steal my console this whole time… That devious little brat. Honestly, he had to respect the move—it was almost brilliant enough to make him cry.
"Wait, wait! Not my Xbox!" he shouted. "Mom, look—I promise it won't happen again!"
Their mother looked up from her meal, exhaling. "You know… that's not a bad idea. You're growing up, Iván. Maybe it's time to stop filling your head with video game violence. Let your sister have it. If you want another one, you can get a job and buy it yourself."
Iván let his face drop onto the table in utter defeat, groaning as he stared daggers at his sister.
She, of course, sat there with a smug grin of pure victory plastered across her face.