The bus smelled like coffee and old vinyl seats, the kind of morning scent that never quite wakes you up. Adrian Mercer pressed his forehead to the window as the countryside blurred past—pine trees, peach stands, and a horizon washed in a soft, late-summer haze. Georgia was supposed to feel like a fresh start. New town, new school, new everything. But the tight coil in his chest hadn't loosened once.
Crestview High rose ahead like a collection of red-brick fortresses, the white columns out front a reminder that this town clung to its history. The driver lurched to a stop, and the doors hissed open. Adrian hoisted his backpack—too many books, too much hope—and stepped into the heavy morning air.
The courtyard buzzed with the easy chaos of a new semester. Laughter ricocheted off the buildings. Someone skateboarded past, daring a security guard to care. A girl in a glittery headscarf twirled a set of keys and ignored the catcalls. Adrian took it all in, scanning faces, already inventing backstories the way he always did.
He barely had time to find the main office when a voice called out.
"Lost or just dramatic?"
Adrian turned to see a tall boy with warm brown skin and a smile so disarming it almost hurt. He wore a varsity jacket unzipped over a black hoodie, basketball tucked under one arm.
"First day," Adrian admitted.
"Thought so. I'm Kwame. Need a guide or you gonna wander till the bell rings?"
Adrian smiled, a flicker of ease breaking through. "Guide sounds good."
Kwame showed him the office, cracking jokes about the endless hallways and the "mythical" second-floor vending machine that sometimes spat out free snacks. Inside the office, a woman with a honey-smooth Southern drawl handed Adrian his schedule and a map.
"Welcome to Crestview, sugar. You'll be in homeroom with Ms. Ellis. Building C," she said.
Back in the hallway, Kwame glanced at the paper. "Lucky. Ms. Ellis actually likes people. Let's go before the stampede starts."
---
Homeroom smelled faintly of dry-erase markers and fresh paint. Students clustered in familiar knots, each group orbiting its own gravity. Adrian caught fragments of conversation: summer trips, college plans, gossip about a bonfire party planned for Friday night.
He slipped into an empty desk, trying to look invisible. But invisibility wasn't his strong suit. His eyes landed on a boy across the room—slim, sharp cheekbones, hair falling into storm-gray eyes. The boy looked up at the exact moment, and for a second neither of them looked away.
A throat cleared beside him. "Don't mind Eli," a new voice said. "He stares at everyone like he's measuring their soul."
Adrian turned to meet a girl with golden-brown skin and curls that framed her face like a halo. She wore a denim jacket covered in enamel pins—planets, protest slogans, a tiny theater mask.
"I'm Amara," she said, offering a hand. "Resident drama queen. Literally—I run the theater club."
"Adrian," he replied, shaking her hand.
"Cool. We need more guys who can actually act." She tilted her head, studying him like a casting director. "Ever been on stage?"
"Not unless you count awkward class presentations."
"You'll learn," she said with a grin.
Eli looked away first, scribbling in a notebook as Ms. Ellis called the class to order.
---
By lunch, Adrian had met more people than he could remember. Priya from debate club, who asked pointed questions about his favorite books. Mai, the quiet photographer who captured him mid-laugh before he could protest. Each interaction felt like a spark in the darkness, but none lit him up quite like the brief glances from Eli Tran.
The cafeteria was a cavern of noise. Adrian balanced a tray of pizza and an apple, scanning for a place to land. Kwame waved him over to a table where Amara, Priya, and Mai were already deep in conversation.
"Adrian!" Kwame said. "We were just arguing about whether Friday's bonfire is going to be epic or a disaster."
"Bonfire?" Adrian asked, sliding into a seat.
"First one of the year," Amara explained. "Tradition. Out by Pine Hollow. Music, bad decisions, you know—school spirit."
"It's also where half the school's best rumors start," Priya added dryly.
Kwame nudged Adrian. "You in?"
Adrian hesitated. "Maybe. Still getting my bearings."
"That's the point," Amara said. "Nothing like a little chaos to break the ice."
Across the room, Eli sat alone, earbuds in, sketchbook open. Adrian caught his eye again—another quick, electric jolt.
---
After lunch, the day blurred into a carousel of classrooms and introductions. By the final bell, Adrian's head throbbed from new names and the heavy Georgia heat. He stepped outside to find the sky streaked with orange and violet, cicadas buzzing like an endless hum.
"Adrian, right?" The voice came from behind. Eli.
Up close, Eli's eyes were even more startling, a color between slate and storm cloud. "I'm in your art class," he said. "You looked…bored."
Adrian laughed softly. "First-day overload."
"Yeah." Eli shifted his weight. "You going to the bonfire?"
"Everyone keeps asking me that."
"That's because it's the only interesting thing this town does," Eli said, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "You should come."
Adrian met his gaze. "Maybe I will."
"Cool." Eli tucked the sketchbook under his arm. "See you around."
He walked away, leaving a faint trace of something Adrian couldn't name.
---
The ride home was quiet, the bus rumbling through streets lined with moss-draped oaks. Adrian replayed the day: Kwame's easy jokes, Amara's sharp grin, the warmth of a group that seemed ready to claim him. And Eli—always Eli, like a chord that hadn't finished playing.
His phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.
> Friday. 8 p.m. Pine Hollow. Don't be late.
No name. Just that.
Adrian stared at the screen as the bus rattled on. A new town, a new school, and already a mystery waiting in the dark.
He couldn't help but smile.