The next day, Zara didn't see Ethan in any of her classes, and she was almost worried, but she heaved a sigh of relief when she followed her dad to track training, and then Ethan sauntered in.
"Hi," she grinned, running up to him but still filled with suspicions of what she didn't even know.
"Hello," he mumbled in a deep voice, looking at her skeptically. Zara hardly started up a conversation with him, so this was a bit awkward.
"Zara, stop distracting my athlete and let him stretch."
"I only want to learn from the best, Coach," Zara yelled, winking at him. Knowing he hated it when she didn't call him Dad, she opted for Coach instead.
"So," she said casually as he began stretching. "How do you do it?"
Ethan arched a brow. "Do what?"
"Run like that."
"Training. Maybe you should try it sometime," he smirked. "Plus, aren't you the state champion for cross-country? 3000 meters, isn't it?"
"Well, yeah," she blushed. "But like, I've seen fast runners before. You're different."
"How?"
"I don't know. You run, and your feet barely touch the ground. Almost like you're zooming, but on air or through the air."
Ethan held her gaze for a second longer than necessary. Then he looked away, pulling his arm over his shoulder in a stretch. "I guess I'm just built differently."
Zara narrowed her eyes. He was too smooth, too comfortable deflecting. If she wasn't already suspicious, she might've let it go. But she wasn't stupid.
"You know it's weird," Zara said, looking at his handsome face.
"That I run fast?"
"No," she said, and then paused. "I mean, I know that's weird, but like, you're outside a lot, running. But your skin is pale. Everyone in California is either tan, red, or sunburned."
"Ah, well," he shrugged, looking over his shoulder, a bit uncomfortable with her scrutiny and questions.
"And you're part Italian. Moreau, right? Your dad's the Italian?"
"Yeah."
"You know, we Italians usually have a bit of colour in us. Golden-toned. Look at me."
"No, you're like that because your mom's probably Black or biracial."
"There are other Italians I've met who are full-blooded Italians," she said. "They are not pale."
The way she said full-blooded made something prickle beneath Ethan's skin; for a second, he thought she was going to mention what he was, and then he realized he was just paranoid for nothing.
"I don't know. Ask whoever created me," he shrugged. "I don't like being pale white either."
"I think it suits you," she shrugged. "You could pass for a Disney prince. Or a prince in a fantasy novel. Ooh, a vampire prince!" she said with glee.
Ethan's blood ran cold at the word. Was it possible she had found out? How?
Zara, on the other hand, had said it offhandedly as a genuine compliment, momentarily forgetting the reason she was interrogating him.
"Th-thank you."
"Hm," she mumbled. "How many miles do you run a day?"
"Depends on Coach."
"How much do you bench, and what's your resting heart rate?"
Ethan answered each one with amusement, but Zara could sense there was a flicker of uncertainty or irritation, maybe. Or was it something else? She couldn't figure out what it was, but it started the moment she complimented him.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "Did I say something?"
"No," he chuckled nervously. "Do you have a crush on me?" he teased with a smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
"No!" Her face was red in an instant, and Ethan smiled. Hell, she was beautiful, but he could not push forward with this. Other than the fact that he wasn't human, her dad was his coach.
After practice, Ethan walked up to her with a lazy smile. "You know, for someone who claims they don't have a crush on me, you sure ask a lot of questions."
Zara's face heated. "I don't—"
He stepped closer, and suddenly, she was too aware of how tall he was. "You're suspicious of me," he said. "Why?"
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She couldn't exactly tell him she thought he might be superhuman, or maybe he was on some type of drugs.
But they tested athletes for drugs, didn't they?
Instead, she scoffed, stepping back. "I'm just curious, that's all."
Ethan watched her for a moment longer before shaking his head. "Be careful, Castillo. Curiosity can be dangerous."
And then, just like that, he was gone, heading toward the locker rooms, leaving Zara with her heart pounding.
+++++
By the third day of her incessant questioning, Ethan was done playing along, and no matter the attraction he felt towards her, he was starting to get annoyed because he was scared that somehow she would find out. Zara had pushed more, lingering closer during training, watching him like a hawk. It was starting to get on his nerves. He did not mind the attention—because who didn't want attention from such a beautiful girl whom more than half of the school boys had a crush on, and a lot of girls were jealous of her, so they hated her. The problem was that she was too smart and had made a comment about his pale skin.
At school, he found her at her locker and leaned against the door beside her, arms crossed. "Alright, what's your deal?"
Zara shut her locker and turned to him, feigning innocence. "What do you mean?"
"You've been hovering."
"I have not."
Ethan gave her a knowing look. "You don't even like track that much. Fine, you're a runner, but for cross-country, and you don't like the rest of the people at the track and only show up at games to support your dad. But suddenly, you're at every training session, asking way too many questions?"
Zara lifted a shoulder. "Maybe I just enjoy watching you run."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't believe that."
She exhaled. "Fine. I think you're hiding something."
Ethan went completely still for a second. Then he let out a short laugh. "Hiding what?"
Zara hesitated. She had no proof. Only theories. And saying it out loud sounded insane.
She finally shook her head. "I don't know yet. But I will."
Ethan sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He was used to humans not noticing the small things. But Zara wasn't like most people. She noticed everything.
He took a step closer. "You should drop this."
Zara didn't back down. "Why?"
His jaw clenched slightly. "Because you won't like what you find."
"So there is something for me to find?"