I sat still on my bed, legs folded under me, staring at the chipped paint on the wall like it had answers.
"Who was the previous Number 5?" I whispered aloud, the words dry in my throat.
It couldn't be Cirrius.
But something about the way Chase said it… the way his voice dropped, the way he looked at me—like he was staring through me and seeing someone else entirely—it messed with my head.
A sharp knock hit the door, followed by Penelope barging in without waiting for an answer. Her thick locs were pulled into a messy bun, and her brows were pulled together in concern.
"You good?" she asked, flopping down beside me. The mattress dipped under her weight with a soft creak.
I blinked, pulled out of my fog. "Uhn? What?"
Penn squinted at me. "Are you okay?" She reached over, fingers wrapping gently around my wrist. Her touch was warm. Reassuring.
"Yeah," I forced a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Just... distracted."
I got up, smoothing out my wrinkled skirt like that could fix the mess in my head. My thoughts were a tangled web of too many things—Chase, Cirrius, chains, secrets. None of them made sense.
Penn watched me closely but didn't push. Instead, she pulled out her phone and shoved the glowing screen into my face. "Okay, enough brooding. There's a party tomorrow night. Mandatory."
"A party?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I leaned closer to the screen. "What kind?"
Her lips curled into a sly grin. "Bonfire." Then, she dropped her voice to a whisper, like we were exchanging state secrets. "It's tradition at Avard. Wild things happen—especially if you don't have a number."
A chill ran down my arms.
"What kind of wild things?"
She just smiled and didn't answer. Typical Penn.
But before she could change the subject again, I hit her with the one thing I'd been dying to ask.
"Do you know anyone named Cirrius?"
The shift in her body was instant. Her back stiffened slightly. Her expression faltered.
"Why?"
I shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Heard some kids whispering about him in class."
Penn was quiet for a beat too long before finally saying, "Cirrius is dead."
The words hit like a slap.
I swallowed hard, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. I bit my lip, turning away slightly so she wouldn't see. The pain curled in my chest like a fist.
"What happened?" My voice cracked.
"Suicide," Penn said flatly. But then she shook her head, jaw tightening. "That's what they say. I don't buy it."
Neither did I.
"Why not?"
Penn scoffed. "He was a Number 5. That means Top 5 in Avard. He had privileges. Power. No one gives that up willingly, not here."
I froze. Number 5? The dots started connecting in my head like constellations.
"Cirrius was friends with the others in Top 5," she continued. "And he had a girlfriend. Number 7. Her name's Lea—spelled without an 'h'."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I needed to find her.
"Aren't you coming for lunch?" Penn asked from the doorway as she headed out.
"I'll join you," I lied.
I had other plans.
Find Lea.
And get into the Top 5.
---
Later – Art Class
The air smelled like paint thinner and wet canvas. Brushes clinked against jars. The classroom was warm, calm... for once.
I dipped my brush into a swirl of blue, dragging it across the canvas slowly. Painting helped me breathe. It was the one thing I'd shared with Cirrius that didn't feel like it belonged to Avard.
My brother was Number 5.
And Chase... he wanted me to wear that same chain.
Why?
I gripped my brush too tightly, and it slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor.
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath.
Before I could reach for it, someone bent down and handed it to me.
"Hey," Archer said gently, his brown eyes soft with concern. "You okay? You've been off lately."
I gave him a tired smile. "Just thinking."
He nudged my shoulder. "Penny for your thoughts?"
I raised an eyebrow. "My thoughts are worth way more than a penny."
He chuckled. "Fair enough. But still... I'm here. If you need someone."
Before I could reply, a sudden shove sent me crashing to the floor. My painting tipped over, my canvas and brushes flying.
The class gasped.
"What the hell—" I started, pain jolting through my side as I looked up.
Spencer.
His signature cocky sneer was plastered across his face, three broad-shouldered boys flanking him like a mafia crew. One of them—the one with the smug smirk and veiny arms—wore a Number 6 chain.
"Are you okay?" Archer moved toward me but was yanked back by the Number 6 guy—Eric, I think. He grabbed Archer's arm hard, holding him in place.
"Eric, take care of that piece of trash," Spencer ordered without even looking at him.
Archer struggled, teeth gritted. "Let me go, damn it!"
Spencer turned to me, eyes gleaming like a predator. "You think you're special just because Chase Everett's interested in you?"
I stood, my knees trembling, but I didn't back away.
"You're nothing without a number," he spat. "You think I forgot what you did to me last time?"
"I didn't do anything to you," I snapped.
Spencer's fist clenched, and before I could dodge, he shoved me again. My back hit the floor hard, pain flaring in my ribs. Paint spilled around me like blood.
"You're just a worthless nobody, Camille. No number, no nothing," he sneered.
I sat up, dizzy but still holding onto my pride. My hands curled into fists. If he hit me again, I'd hit back.
Spencer raised his hand.
And then—
The door flung open in perfect timing.
All heads turned. I managed to raise a brow.
Chase Everett strode in like a storm, Levi and Jax flanking him. His eyes landed on Spencer, and the look on his face could've frozen hell.
"Spencer," Chase said, voice thunderous. "What the hell are you doing?"
Spencer faltered, but puffed his chest. "Why do you care?"
Jax stepped forward, his jaw clenched, hands tucked casually into his pockets like he didn't even need to try. "What is it with you and attention, Spencer?"
Spencer glared. "You're acting like she matters. You know her or something?"
Then—
The world shifted.
Chase said the words that made my stomach flip inside out.
"She's my girlfriend."
The room fell into stunned silence. Even I stopped breathing.
Spencer froze with a deep glare,"What?"
"She's with me," Chase growled, grabbing Spencer by the arm and twisting it just enough to send a message.
"Mess with her again, and you're messing with me.