Morning classes were brutal, but at least Mira had found a way to make them entertaining. She kept a running commentary in whispers mocking the professor's old tweed jacket, pointing out who was dozing off in the back row.
I nudged her with my elbow when she giggled too loudly. "You're going to get us thrown out."
"Please," she whispered back, "if he hasn't noticed Josh drooling on his desk yet, he's not going to notice us."
I tried to focus, but my attention kept slipping. Maybe it was lack of sleep, or maybe it was the way the room felt different this morning.
That's when I noticed him.
He sat near the back, alone, head bent slightly as he scribbled notes. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. There was nothing flashy about him no loud laugh, no group of friends around him. Just quiet concentration.
But then, as if sensing my stare, he looked up.
Our eyes met.
For a second, I forgot to breathe. His eyes were the same as last night_silver, catching the light in a way that made my stomach twist.
Heat crept into my face, and I quickly looked back at my notebook. "Smooth, Serenya. Real smooth."I said quietly
When class finally ended, Mira gathered her things in a whirl of chatter. "Okay, coffee. Now. Or I die." She hooked her arm through mine and pulled me toward the door.
But as we left, I glanced back.
He was still at his desk, closing his notebook with careful precision. His gaze flicked toward the window, as if his thoughts were miles away.
The library was my favorite place on campus quiet, warm, and smelling faintly of old paper and coffee. Mira hated it. She said silence made her itchy. Which was fine by me, because it meant I usually had the place to myself.
I spread my books across the table and tried to focus on my reading. But my mind kept drifting. The bonfire. The body. The silver-eyed boy at the back of class.
I sighed and rubbed my temples. Get a grip, Serenya.
A shadow fell across my table.
"Is this seat taken?"
I looked up, startled. It was him.
Up close, he was taller than I expected. His voice was quiet, polite, but there was something steady about the way he asked like he wasn't used to being told no.
"Uh—no. It's free." My voice came out awkward, and I instantly wished I sounded cooler.
He slid into the chair across from me, setting down a single notebook. No laptop, no stack of books. Just one battered notebook and a pen.
For a while, silence stretched between us. I pretended to read, though my eyes kept darting to the page without actually processing the words.
Finally, curiosity got the better of me. "You're in Professor Halloway's class, right?"
His eyes lifted to mine. That same silver gleam. "Yeah."
I nodded, gripping my pen like it was a lifeline. "Do you always sit in the back, or is that just your thing?"
The corner of his mouth tugged not quite a smile, but close. "Maybe I like the view better from there."
I didn't know what to say to that. My stomach did an annoying little flip, and I quickly looked back at my book, pretending to be absorbed in a paragraph I hadn't actually read.
For the next half hour, we sat in silence, me pretending to study, him writing something I couldn't quite see.
It wasn't much of a conversation. But it was a start.
By the end of the week, I'd almost convinced myself that college was starting to feel… normal. Or at least, my version of normal. Classes were fine, my professors seemed decent, and Mira had already made herself the social mayor of our dorm.
Me? I was surviving.
The mornings were my favorite ,quiet walks across campus before most people were awake. The air was cool, leaves crunching under my shoes, and the world felt soft around the edges. It was the only time of day I didn't feel like I was being swept along by everyone else's noise.
By noon, things got louder. Mira dragged me to lunch in the cafeteria every day, and somehow, she knew everyone. I usually sat quietly beside her, smiling when introduced, offering polite nods while she carried the conversation.
Sometimes, though, I'd sneak away after lunch not far, just enough to breathe. The library. The coffee cart near the student center. A bench under the oak trees where I could read without interruption.
It wasn't that I didn't like people. I just… wasn't good at being "on" all the time the way Mira was.
That night, I spread my books across my desk, the hum of Mira's music buzzing in the background. She was FaceTiming her mom, already recounting every dramatic detail of college life, while I tried to finish an essay that was due Monday.
I paused halfway through a sentence, staring out the window. The campus glowed softly beneath the lampposts, students still moving between dorms and the library. It all looked so ordinary.
And yet… I couldn't quite forget the bonfire. The scream. The way campus security had pulled everyone back.
I shook my head, forcing myself to look at the blinking cursor on my screen. Ordinary. That was what I needed. Ordinary was safe.
Saturday mornings on campus were different. Quieter. Students slept in, the cafeteria was half-empty, and the usual rush of people between classes just wasn't there.
I grabbed a bagel and coffee, then slipped outside, glad for the crisp air. Mira had been up late the night before at some dorm party, so she wasn't going to surface anytime soon.
I found a bench near the student center and opened a book, letting the hum of distant traffic and birdsong fade into background noise. For once, I almost felt settled.
My phone vibrated on the bench beside me.
It was a text from Mom: How's college going, sweetheart? Eating okay? Getting enough sleep?
I smiled faintly. She always asked the same three questions, no matter what stage of life I was in. High school, summer camp, now college. Yes, Mom. Yes to all three, I typed back, though in reality I was running mostly on cafeteria coffee and bagels.
I was about to hit send when voices carried over from a few feet away.
Two campus security officers stood by the student center doors, their radios clipped to their belts. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but their words traveled clearly in the still morning air.
"…don't care what the report says," one muttered. "Those wounds weren't from a dog."
The other gave him a sharp look. "Keep it down. Students are jumpy enough after that scream the other night."
"I'm telling you, I've hunted my whole life. I've seen dog bites, coyote, even a wildcat once. This? This was different."
The second officer shifted uncomfortably, scanning the courtyard. "The higher-ups said 'animal attack,' so that's what it is. End of story. You want to keep your job, you don't question it."
"Yeah, but…" The first lowered his voice, and I had to strain to hear. "You saw the body. Those claw marks were…"
"Enough," the other cut in, more firmly this time.
A crackle from one of their radios interrupted them, and just like that, the conversation was over. They moved off toward the parking lot, leaving the air heavy behind them.
I realized I was still staring at my phone, the unsent text glowing on the screen. With a quick breath, I typed an extra line beneath my usual reply: I'm fine, Mom. Everything's normal.
Normal. That was what I wanted it to be.
I shoved my phone into my bag, but the word "normal" echoed hollowly in my head as I sat there, untouched bagel in hand.
I stayed on that bench long after the guards had gone, my bagel going stale in my hand. The courtyard was calm, the kind of Saturday quiet that usually felt comforting. But now the silence pressed in like it was holding its breath.
"Claw marks."
The word clung to me. I hadn't meant to overhear it, hadn't wanted to, but now I couldn't shove it out of my head.
Everyone had been joking about the bonfire incident. Mira had called it "the campus ghost story of the year." Other students whispered about someone drinking too much, about hazing gone wrong, about some wild dog wandering in from the woods.
But the way those officers spoke… that wasn't rumor. That was fear.
I tried to picture what they'd seen. A dog? A coyote? I didn't even know if coyotes lived in this part of the state. The thought of a body an actual body made my stomach twist.
I pressed my hands into my knees and leaned forward, forcing a deep breath. I was overthinking. That's what I always did. A half-heard conversation didn't mean anything. People exaggerated. Maybe I'd misunderstood.
Still, the image of claws wouldn't leave me. Sharp, unnatural, tearing through skin.
I looked down at my phone again, at the message I'd sent to Mom. "Everything normal"
For the first time since I arrived at college, I wondered if it really was.
Monday mornings were bad enough, but biology lab made them worse. The room smelled faintly of bleach and something sour beneath it, the kind of scent that clung to your clothes. and the flicker of the overhead lights didn't help my headache.
I sat near the middle, notebook open, pen poised, trying to look awake. Mira wasn't in this class lucky her so it was just me and a sea of students I barely knew.
Professor Hale adjusted his glasses and started in right away. "New project starting today. Two weeks, pairs only, worth a quarter of your grade. And before anyone ask NO, you don't get to pick your partners. I've already assigned them."
A collective groan filled the room.
One by one, he read names off a clipboard. Students shuffled into pairs, chairs scraped across the floor, and the room grew louder.
"Serenya Vale…" he called at last. I straightened in my seat.
"…and Kaelen Dusk."
I wondered who it was and while i turned around to check who that is, he waved at her with a straight face as we locked eyes
I froze.
The name meant nothing on its own, but when I turned,I knew.
It was him.
The guy from the bonfire. The guy who had sat across from me in the library days later, silent, reserved, his eyes flicking up just once when I'd spread my books across the table. He hadn't said much just some few words but I hadn't forgotten.
He stopped at my table. For the briefest moment, his gaze caught mine, and I knew he remembered too.
Recognition passed between us muted, unspoken.
"Guess we're partners," I said, more casually than I felt.
He nodded once. "Looks like it." His voice was the same as in the library,low, even, with something unreadable underneath.
He took the seat beside me, unfolding the project sheet while I tried to steady my thoughts. Two weeks. Data collection. Final write-up. Straightforward enough.
Except… this was the second time I'd crossed paths with him without meaning to.
I stared down at my notebook, pen hovering above the page. Coincidence, I told myself. Just coincidence.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, I'd been paired with more than just a lab partner.