! Important note!
This novel is written with the help of Ai
School was many things, but entertaining was not one of them. I sat in the back row, half-listening as the teacher scrawled symbols across the board like she was trying to summon a demon with chalk.
Beside me, Max leaned back in his chair with the kind of relaxed confidence I could never pull off. He was taller than me—about six feet, which made my five-eight feel like a bad joke. His dark hair always looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, yet somehow he still managed to hover around "almost good-looking." If I was a solid seven out of ten, he was too, but the kind who actually knew how to wear it.
He nudged me with his elbow. "Lucien, you're staring at the clock like it owes you money."
"Time does owe me money," I muttered. "Interest, too."
Max smirked, the corners of his mouth twitching. He had that expression that said he was about to laugh at my misery, which was basically our friendship in a nutshell.
Outside, rain tapped against the window. Just a drizzle. The kind of background noise you barely noticed. I spared it a glance, then went back to pretending to take notes.
The drizzle didn't stop.
By the next period, it had turned into steady rainfall, drumming on the roof loud enough to cut into the teacher's lecture. A few students glanced at the windows, but no one cared. Storms weren't rare.
Max leaned closer, voice low. "Bet they'll cancel classes if this keeps up."
I shot him a look. "You wish. The teachers would drag us through a hurricane if it meant finishing the syllabus."
He grinned. "Optimism looks good on you."
I flipped him off under the desk.
But the storm didn't let up. If anything, it grew louder, heavier. By the third period, the windows were rattling in their frames, and the air inside the classroom felt damp. The teacher tried to keep her voice steady, but every few seconds, thunder cut her off.
And still, no one panicked. We all just… ignored it. Because that's what you did with storms—you waited them out.
Only this one didn't pass.
By the fourth period, it was hammering down like the sky had opened a faucet. Lightning flashed outside, white against the dark clouds that had swallowed the horizon. A few kids whispered nervously, but the teacher brushed it off.
Then came the announcement. The intercom crackled, and a tight, clipped voice told all students to gather in the auditorium immediately.
The room went silent.
"Is that… for the rain?" someone asked.
No one answered. Our teacher gestured for us to pack our things quickly. Her face said everything—this wasn't normal.
The hallway was chaos. Shoes squeaked on wet tiles, voices overlapped, and the storm outside roared like it was trying to tear through the walls. Max stayed close beside me, his easy grin gone.
"You feel that?" he muttered.
I nodded. The air felt heavy, pressing down on my lungs. Not the usual storm heaviness—the kind that made you feel like you were underwater.
We followed the crowd into the auditorium. Teachers tried to keep us calm, telling us to sit on the floor in neat rows, but their voices were nearly drowned out by the storm's pounding.
Rain crashed against the roof so hard it sounded like hail. Thunder boomed in uneven bursts—not crashing and fading like it should, but dragging, pulsing. Like a heartbeat.
I tried to convince myself it was just weather, but the thought didn't stick.
Minutes passed. No explanation. Just the storm, louder and louder, rattling the windows with every gust of wind.
Max leaned close, his voice barely audible over the roar. "Lucien… this doesn't sound normal."
For once, I didn't have a sarcastic reply.
The lights flickered, then went out.
Screams echoed through the auditorium as darkness swallowed us. The storm howled louder than ever, the walls trembling around us.
Emergency lights kicked on, dim and red, throwing the room into eerie shadows.
My eyes drifted to the far corner. For just a second, I could have sworn the wall moved—like the world itself had taken a breath.
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Word count: ~905