The gates of Ravenwood High were crowded, loud, and full of motion. Students rushed in—some excited, some sleepy, some already complaining about homework that hadn't even been assigned yet. The warm morning sunlight gleamed across the school emblem, making it feel almost welcoming.
Ethan Cross stood just past the gate, taking a quiet breath.
First day of high school.
The moment should've felt big, dramatic, maybe even nerve-racking…
but to Ethan, it felt simple.
New place.
New people.
That's all.
He adjusted his bag and walked forward calmly.
"ETHAN! You traitor!"
He didn't flinch.
He just turned around as Ben Carter sprinted toward him like he was chasing a bus.
"You didn't wait for me!" Ben accused, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "You owe me emotional compensation."
"You didn't pick up my call," Ethan replied.
Ben froze. "…Oh."
"Yeah."
"Well… still. You could've waited," Ben muttered.
"I'll wait for you after school."
Ben brightened instantly. "That works!"
They headed toward the class lists posted on the board. The crowd was huge, packed shoulder-to-shoulder, with bursts of conversation everywhere.
"Who's our teacher?"
"I hope I get the middle seat."
"Please let me be with a friend!"
"I heard the basketball captain returned this year—Lucas Cross, right?"
Ethan kept his expression neutral.
He didn't react.
He didn't even turn.
Most students didn't know he existed, let alone that he was Lucas's younger brother.
Only people connected to the basketball world knew that.
He didn't hide it.
They just hadn't found out yet.
Ben squeezed through the cluster of students. "Move! Small person coming through!"
"You're not small," Ethan said.
"That's not the point!"
Ben scanned the list dramatically. "I'm in 1-D… Ethan, hold me. This is the worst timeline."
"You'll live," Ethan replied, but with a soft smile.
Ben elbowed him. "What class are you in?"
Ethan looked.
Ethan Cross — Class 1-B
Just above another unfamiliar name:
Aria Frost
The name didn't mean anything to him. Just a stranger. He didn't linger on it and stepped back to give others space.
Ben groaned, gripping Ethan's shoulders. "1-D is basically exile. Pray for me."
"I'll save you a seat at lunch."
Ben's eyes softened. "I knew we were soulmates."
"Don't say weird things."
"Fine, besties."
Ethan sighed but didn't argue.
They split at the stairway, and Ethan headed to the Class 1-B corridor. Students rushed past him—laughing, nervous, greeting old friends—but he kept a moderate pace, neither rushing nor dragging. He didn't dislike new people; he just didn't jump into conversations until he felt comfortable.
When he reached the classroom, some students had already chosen seats, chatting in small groups. Ethan walked to the back rows, choosing a window seat—not to hide, but because it felt natural. He placed his bag down and sat quietly, watching the courtyard through the glass.
More students entered. Some glanced around curiously, some confidently took center seats, and others hesitated in the doorway before picking a spot.
A girl walked in quietly—silver-blonde hair, neat bangs, careful steps. She wasn't nervous, but not loud either. She scanned the room as if searching for a comfortable spot and chose a middle-row seat.
Ethan didn't stare.
He only noticed the motion because she passed his desk.
Just normal awareness.
She didn't look at him.
He didn't try to make eye contact.
Slow introductions on day one were not his style.
A minute later, their homeroom teacher, Ms. Clara Winters, entered with bright energy.
"Good morning, Class 1-B!" she announced. "I hope everyone is awake, because I refuse to teach zombies."
Soft laughter filled the room.
Ethan sat straighter out of habit.
Ms. Winters began roll call.
"Aria Frost?"
"Here," the silver-haired girl replied, her voice soft but steady.
So that was Aria.
The name finally connected to a face—but only because of attendance.
Nothing more.
Ms. Winters continued, "Ethan Cross?"
"Here," Ethan answered.
She smiled briefly and moved on.
No whispers.
No stares.
No recognition.
Ethan didn't mind.
He wasn't hiding his identity.
It just hadn't come up yet.
Classes began—introductions, expectations, notes about schedules. Ethan listened carefully, occasionally writing in his notebook. He spoke when asked, but didn't force conversation with classmates. A few people occasionally glanced at him—the boy with calm eyes and a quiet presence—but no one approached yet.
That was fine.
Real friendships grew with time.
When lunch came, the room emptied fast. Ethan packed his things slowly.
Ben appeared at the door right on cue.
"MY BROTHER IN A DIFFERENT CLASS!" he declared dramatically. "Did you miss me?"
"No," Ethan said.
"You definitely did."
"…Maybe."
Ben grinned triumphantly. Ethan didn't fight it.
They walked toward the courtyard. Students filled the open space, some forming friend circles, others wandering awkwardly on their first day.
As Ethan and Ben looked for a place to sit, Ethan noticed the silver-haired girl again—Aria—seated alone beneath a tree, reading something with quiet concentration.
He didn't stare.
He didn't pause.
He just noticed—like noticing any student sitting alone.
Ben nudged him. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You do that thing where you pretend nothing is happening."
"Nothing is happening."
Ben squinted. "Suspicious."
Ethan ignored him.
They found a spot under a nearby tree. Ben started talking about his class, his seatmates, his terrible luck. Ethan listened with small smiles, occasionally replying, feeling the simple comfort of having at least one familiar person close by.
Around them, Ravenwood buzzed with life.
Clubs.
New classmates.
Future friendships.
Future rivals.
Somewhere inside these walls, the basketball court waited too.
And although nobody knew who Ethan Cross was yet…
that would change soon enough.
Not because he wanted attention.
Not because he chased it.
But because talent speaks—
loudly—
even when the person holding it stays quiet.
Ethan looked up at the sky, the breeze ruffling his hair.
A calm beginning.
A slow start.
But the storm inside him was steady.
Growing.
Waiting.
Ravenwood had no idea what was coming.