I never liked the second day of school.
The first was always fake—new outfits, loud voices, desperate smiles. But the second? That's when people settle into their roles. That's when the games begin.
And I was already tired of playing.
Xander followed me again today. Quiet. Predictable. Always a few steps behind like a shadow I never asked for. He didn't say a word in the morning. Not when I grabbed coffee. Not when I almost tripped over a loose brick in the sidewalk and muttered a curse. Just… silent.
Which should've made me feel safe.
It didn't.
Because while he watched me…
I was watching them.
Viktor was all fake charm and sideways smiles. His backpack slung over one shoulder like he couldn't be bothered with rules. He blended in with the student council boys by third period, already laughing like he'd been born here.
Nadya was colder. She barely spoke unless it was to a teacher. And even then, her voice was calm, clipped, a little too polished. Like she was always measuring her words, just in case someone was listening.
But Lev?
He was a mystery wrapped in silence.
Tall. Sharp. Always near the edges of rooms. He didn't sit near people unless he had to. He didn't laugh. Didn't smile. But he saw everything.
Especially me.
At least twice during history class, I caught him glancing my way.
Not by accident.
Not curiosity.
Like he was trying to memorize my face.
I hated it.
I hated all of this.
"You're chewing your pen again," Freya whispered beside me, flicking her finger against my arm.
"I'm not—" I stopped. Looked down. "Fine. I was."
Freya arched her brow. "You've been weird since yesterday."
"I got assigned a bodyguard," I hissed back, glaring at my notebook. "You try being normal after that."
Her expression shifted. A little softer now. "You think something's wrong, don't you?"
I didn't answer. Mostly because I didn't know how to say everything feels wrong without sounding paranoid.
Freya leaned closer. "That Xander guy? I've been watching him. He doesn't act like a normal bodyguard."
"How would you know what a normal one acts like?"
She smirked. "I watch a lot of action movies."
I rolled my eyes, but she wasn't wrong. Something about Xander was too… controlled. Not stiff, not robotic. Just trained. The way he scanned rooms. The way his hand twitched near his side when someone passed too close to me. The way he never relaxed.
"What if he's not just here to protect you?" Freya asked quietly.
I didn't have an answer.
Because deep down, I'd been asking the same thing.
Sixth period ended with a group project announcement and a groan from half the class. I grabbed my bag and headed for the west stairwell—my usual escape route when I needed space.
Xander, of course, followed.
But just before I turned the corner, I stopped.
Voices.
Low. Tense. A language I didn't recognize at first—then realized I did.
Russian.
I stayed still, listening from around the corner.
"Она — цель," Viktor's voice said.
A pause.
"Это задание, а не дружба. Не забывай." Nadya's voice. Calm. Cold.
Footsteps shifted. Someone leaned against the wall.
Then Lev's voice, deep and quiet: "Я не забываю."
My blood ran cold.
I didn't breathe.
Then the hallway grew silent again, and I ducked back down the stairwell before they could see me. My thoughts screamed louder than my footsteps.
Target.
Mission.
They were talking about someone. Maybe not me.
But my gut already knew.
This wasn't about school.
This was a game.
And I was in the middle of it.
I stepped back from the wall.
Slow. Quiet. Careful not to let the sound of my breath give me away.
They didn't see me.
Viktor, Nadya, and Lev were still caught in their hushed conversation by the lockers, heads low, faces unreadable.
I slipped down the hall the other way, heart hammering, barely hearing my own footsteps over the pounding in my ears. Xander was behind me in an instant—silent, alert, his pace matching mine.
He didn't say a word.
Of course he didn't.
If I asked him about what I just heard, he'd probably give me that same blank look. Like he's a wall instead of a person. Like he's not allowed to react. I hated that almost as much as I hated him.
I hated that I couldn't read him.
I hated that he followed me like a dog on a leash, but I didn't even hold the chain.
My hands curled into fists as I turned a corner and pushed open the back doors of the school. The breeze hit me like a slap—cool, sharp, real.
Finally.
I kept walking. Past the sports field. Past the benches where students texted their parents pretending to look busy. Past the old vending machines with broken buttons.
Until I was far enough that no one could hear me if I screamed.
I sat on the far edge of the field, in the shadow of the rusting bleachers. Not because I liked it. Because it was the only place that didn't feel like a stage.
Xander stood a few feet away, watching the tree line like I wasn't even here.
I turned to him, still sitting. "You're really not going to say anything?"
He didn't answer.
"Three new students show up out of nowhere. They speak Russian. They're clearly up to something. And I'm supposed to pretend this is normal?"
Nothing. Not even a shift in his stance.
I laughed bitterly, dragging my fingers through my hair. "Do you even care what happens to me? Or are you just following orders?"
He blinked, once. "Your father hired me to protect you. Not to answer your questions."
I stood up, the ache in my knees ignored. "What if I don't want protection?"
He looked down at me, unreadable. "Then pretend I'm not here."
"Too late," I snapped. "You're always here."
He didn't react. He never did. And that made something inside me boil.
I turned away before I said something I couldn't take back.
Because deep down, I knew it wasn't Xander's fault.
This was all my father's doing.
He knew something. He always knew something. And he wasn't telling me, because in his world, I was a fragile object that needed guarding. A thing. Not a daughter.
My hands were still shaking when I sat down again.
Behind me, Xander didn't move.
He stayed there.
Watching.
Guarding.
And I hated how alone that made me feel.
I sat there for a while.
Long enough for the wind to tug loose strands of my hair, long enough for my pulse to stop rattling in my throat.
I stared at the grass. Let my breathing slow. Counted to four on the inhale, seven on the exhale—just like the counselor from middle school taught me back when my panic attacks started.
It still worked. Mostly.
The breeze tickled my face. I focused on that instead of the storm in my chest. Instead of the word цель echoing in my mind like a warning bell.
After a few more minutes, I stood.
Brushed off my skirt. Rolled my shoulders back. Set my expression to neutral.
Not happy.
Not scared.
Just normal.
I turned to Xander. He didn't look at me, but I knew he was paying attention.
"I'm heading back inside," I said, like we hadn't just been surrounded by silence and suspicion.
He nodded once and fell in step behind me.
I walked slower on purpose, just enough time to make it seem like I'd gone for a regular break. Nothing suspicious. Nothing worth noticing. My friends wouldn't question it—I had a reputation for vanishing when things got too loud.
At least that part of me was consistent.
By the time I reached the main hallway again, everything looked exactly the same.
Locker doors slammed shut.
Laughter bounced off the walls.
The same cheap, lemony cleaner smell lingered in the air.
It was like nothing had happened.
But everything had.
I spotted Cassie near the stairwell, talking animatedly to Aline. Probably about the club fair tomorrow. Or a new crush. Or which teachers were secretly aliens in disguise—Cassie had theories about everyone.
I slipped in beside them with a practiced smile. "Hey."
Cassie lit up. "Kari! We were just talking about you."
"Uh-oh," I teased, tone light. "What did I do this time?"
Aline grinned, brushing blue bangs from her eyes. "Cassie thinks you're gonna join the yearbook club."
"I think," Cassie jumped in, "that you need to do something this year besides haunting the library and avoiding eye contact."
I laughed, not too loud. "Maybe I like haunting."
Freya joined us a few moments later, twisting a strand of pink hair around her finger. She gave me a knowing look but didn't say anything.
I was grateful for that.
Because the last thing I needed was someone asking why my hands were still a little shaky or why my voice wasn't quite as steady as usual.
Instead, I let myself be pulled back into their chatter. I smiled when I was supposed to. Rolled my eyes. Laughed at Cassie's drama and Aline's dry commentary. Made fun of Freya's obsession with bubble tea.
And all the while, I felt him watching me.
Not Lev.
Not Viktor.
Not Nadya.
Xander.
Behind me. Not speaking. Not breathing too loud. But watching.
Maybe making sure I didn't run.
Maybe waiting for me to break.
But I wouldn't.
Not yet.
Because if there was one thing I'd learned from living in my father's house, it was this:
When the world starts cracking, you smile wider.
You smile until your face hurts.
You smile until the mask becomes real.
I smiled. I laughed. I nodded along.
But somewhere between Aline teasing Cassie and Freya mentioning the new café in town, my mind drifted.
It was like someone had turned the volume down on the world.
I stopped hearing their voices.
Stopped noticing who was passing in the hallway.
Everything blurred except the noise in my head.
Цель.
Target.
That one word kept looping, snagging on the back of my mind like a splinter.
Were they talking about me?
No—no, I couldn't be sure.
It could've meant anything. Maybe it wasn't even me. Maybe I was just being paranoid.
Or maybe I wasn't.
My father had hired a bodyguard.
He knew these three were coming.
He'd planned for it.
So if he knew, why wouldn't he just tell me?
Unless he thought I'd panic. Unless he thought I couldn't handle it. Unless—
Unless it was worse than I thought.
What if they were here for more than just watching?
What if they were here to hurt me?
No. No, I'm overthinking.
But what if I'm not?
Viktor's eyes had locked onto that girl from science class earlier. Was she a target? Was she part of it?Did they already—
I bit the inside of my cheek. Too hard.
I needed to stop. I needed to breathe.
I—
"What do you think, Karina?"
Freya's voice broke through the fog.
I blinked.
They were all looking at me.
The hallway noise rushed back in like a wave, too loud and too fast.
"Sorry," I said quickly, trying to gather what I'd missed. "I zoned out."
Cassie tilted her head. "You okay?"
I forced another smile. It felt stiff, like a mask that didn't quite fit.
"Yeah. Just thinking about... the club fair. Aline mentioned it earlier, right?"
Aline squinted at me. "I didn't."
Crap.
"Well, someone did," I covered, laughing awkwardly.
Freya gave me a soft look, the kind that made me want to disappear. "It's okay, you know," she said quietly. "To not be okay."
I didn't answer.
Couldn't.
Because the moment I started admitting things, I wouldn't be able to stop.
So I tucked my hands in my sleeves, nodded like I meant it, and slipped right back into the performance.
The only thing I knew how to do.
Smile. Laugh. Survive.
Even if everything inside me was screaming.
Now I just stand awkwardly while my friends laugh and talk about different topics.
He's still watching me. Why can't he just stop?
I'm done.
Just leave me alone.
I take a deep breath to calm my racing thoughts, hoping no one notices. But obviously he notices.
He's still watching.
I take another deep breath. Calm down. You're okay. After a while Cassie's voice fills my ears, the laughing of students is still a background noise.
"…and we should totally go! What do you guys think?"
"I don't know girl…" Freya sounds skeptical and I try to grab pieces of the conversation to fit back in, to pretend like I wasn't zoned out even for a second because that's what I do best.
Pretend.
"I agree with Cassie! We should go. Maybe they'll have good cakes there or maybe we'll find someone who looks hot. Maybe a cashier or someone. What do you think, Kari?" Aline asks and I quickly realize that we're talking about the new café downtown that just opened a day ago.
"Yeah, what do you think, K?" Freya questions with hope in her eyes because she knows that if the votes are tied, we're not going anywhere.
"I'm honestly thinking about going but only because of the deserts. I need the sugar," I finally state after a while of thinking, already knowing that Cassie will make fun of me for the sugar comment again. I realize that I do actually say it a lot.
"You always need the sugar," Cassie comments like I thought she would.
"Yeah, yeah. So are we going? And when?"
"Tomorrow after school? Is that okay with everyone?"
I nod while everyone else agrees. Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling about this? Nah. It'll be fine. Nothing bad will happen. Hopefully.