I stared at the cake on the ground for a full minute.
Not blink-and-miss-it minute. Not dramatic-movie minute. A real, slow, painful minute.
My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to punch its way out through my ribs. The cake lay there in pieces—frosting smeared across the tile, the words Welcome Back Home, Caleb now a tragic abstract painting.
What was happening?
Did Caleb just smash the cake I spent two hours baking for him this morning… onto the floor?
Caleb?
My kind Caleb?
My hands trembled as I tore my eyes away from the wreckage and looked up at him. Tears blurred my vision, turning his face into something unfamiliar.
"Caleb?" My voice came out fragile, barely there. "What's wrong? Why did you do that?"
I needed an explanation. Needed him to laugh awkwardly and say it slipped. Needed him to tell me it was an accident. That he didn't mean to destroy the cake.
That he didn't mean to destroy me.
But what he said instead shattered everything.
"What is wrong with you, Mason?!" Caleb snapped, his voice sharp and furious.
The words hit me harder than the cake hitting the floor. I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.
So he kept going.
"Is it because I agreed to be your friend that you feel the need to spread your gay disease around?" he spat. "Is it because I stayed by your side after finding out you're gay that you think you can try to infect me with it? How dare you?"
My knees gave out.
I dropped to the floor like a puppet whose strings had just been cut.
Gay disease?
The words echoed in my skull, loud and ugly.
So… all these years… that's what he thought I was?
A disease?
Tears spilled down my face before I could stop them, hot and relentless.
"How can you say that to me, Caleb?" I whispered, my voice cracking under my suddenly unstable emotions. "I thought we were friends… So all these years… that's all I was to you? A diseases?"
My gaze drifted helplessly back to the ruined cake. The frosting I'd carefully smoothed at six in the morning now clung to the floor like it had given up on life.
Caleb went quiet.
For a moment, I thought—hoped—he felt guilty.
Then he bent down suddenly and grabbed my arm, pulling me up onto my feet. I stiffened, half expecting his fist to follow.
Instead, his expression softened. He pulled me into a hug. "I'm sorry," he murmured gently.
My brain froze.
His arms around me felt familiar. Safe. Like they always had.
And yet, somehow, completely wrong.
"I never meant to hurt your feelings," he continued softly, like he was the victim here, "but you have to admit, you brought this on yourself. I warned you not to confess your feelings to anyone until you got to college. Why did you have to do it now? Why did you have to make me so angry that I lost my cool?"
I stared past his shoulder, numb.
I didn't understand anything anymore.
Before I could ask what he meant, he pulled away slightly, one hand still resting on my shoulder like he owned the right.
"Mason," he said calmly, "I'm going to pretend today never happened."
My stomach twisted.
"Don't ever do what you just did to me—or anyone else—again. I'm only trying to protect you. Someone else wouldn't be as kind or gentle as I am."
Kind?
Gentle?
My ruined cake lay three feet away like evidence that disagreed.
He smiled faintly.
"Besides, let's be honest. Who in their right mind would pass up a hot girl for someone like you?" he added casually. "We both know you're not attractive enough to be gay."
For a moment, I forgot how breathing worked.
Not attractive enough… to be gay?
Was there a grading system I didn't know about? A committee? Did I miss the orientation?
"Let's just go back to being best friends, alright?"
He clapped me on the back like we'd just finished discussing homework instead of dismantling my self worth, my existence.
Then he turned and walked out of the chemistry lab.
Just like that.
The door clicked shut behind him.
And I broke.
The silence in the lab wrapped around me, heavy and choking. Even the hum of the overhead lights sounded louder, like the room itself was watching me fall apart.
I sank to the floor and cried.
I cried until my head throbbed and my throat burned. Cried until my chest hurt and my hands shook.
I couldn't believe it.
All these years, I'd worshipped him for accepting me. All these years, I thought he saw me.
But he never had.
To him, I was something to tolerate. Something to manage. Something to fix.
I don't know how long I sat there staring at the destroyed cake. Thirty minutes. Maybe more. Time felt useless.
Then the lab door opened. I froze.
And then walked in my greatest source of intimidation—and, unfortunately, the school's most unfairly handsome human being.
Blue Gem.
He moved like he belonged everywhere and nowhere at the same time, his blonde hair slightly messy, his sharp features calm and unreadable. He looked beautiful in the way thunderstorms looked beautiful—right before they ruined your life.
And somehow, even more terrifying.
Rumor said his parents were mafia lords. Rumor said he fought with five dangerous dogs and won. Rumor said he once made three teachers cry.
Honestly, rumor said a lot of things. My survival instincts and personal experiences believed all of them.
Panicking, I scrambled to my feet and started scooping the ruined cake into its destroyed box with my bare hands. Frosting stuck to my fingers, cold and sticky.
If I moved fast enough, maybe he wouldn't notice me.
Maybe I could escape before becoming his next victim.
I didn't know why he was here. But being alone in a room with Blue Gem felt like being alone in a horror movie basement. Nothing good ever followed.
I was halfway through salvaging what could not be salvaged when he stopped beside me.
His voice, when he spoke, was low and smooth.
"Let's go."
I froze.
Slowly, I looked up at him. Then I looked behind me.
Because obviously, he couldn't be talking to me. That would be insane.
That would be like the grim reaper personally inviting you outside for fresh air.
But there was no one else there.
Just me.
And him.
And... Oh no.
I looked back at him, my brain short-circuiting.
"What?" I asked weakly, hoping—no, praying—I'd misheard him.
He sighed, clearly unimpressed by my inability to cooperate with my own kidnapping.
Then he bent down, grabbed my frosting-covered hand, and pulled me to my feet.
"I said," he repeated calmly, "let's go."
Before I could argue, he started dragging me toward the door.
"Wait—let me go! Where are you taking me?!" I protested, my voice echoing uselessly in the empty hallway.
He didn't answer.
Of course he didn't answer. Serial killers never answered questions.
The hallway was deserted—recess had ended, and everyone was back in class. My shoes squeaked against the floor as he pulled me through the side exit and toward the back of the school.
Toward the woods.
Oh.
Oh no.
This was it.
This was exactly how crime documentaries started.
My heart slammed violently against my chest as panic surged through me. He dragged me across the grass, straight toward the tree line, dark and endless.
I inhaled sharply, ready to scream.
But suddenly—
He pulled me into his arms and covered my mouth with his hand. My eyes widened in pure shock.
Everything was happening at once.
First—and most importantly—I was about to get murdered by the terrifying human embodiment of a blue gemstone.
Second—and far less appropriately—I couldn't help noticing how firm his chest was against my back… and how ridiculously good he smelled. His scent wrapped around me like a lullaby, warm and dangerous, tempting me to lean back, rest my head on his shoulder, and pretend none of this was a kidnapping situation. Honestly, Caleb was probably right about me being disgusting, because apparently even the threat of death wasn't strong enough to drag my brain out of the gutter. Priorities, clearly, were not my strength.
"Don't scream," Blue whispered softly into my ear. "I'm not going to hurt you."
His voice slid through me like warm honey, and my legs immediately betrayed me. My knees nearly buckled, turning into jelly with absolutely no loyalty whatsoever. I didn't know what it was, but something in his tone made me feel… safe. Which was ridiculous. Criminally ridiculous. This guy had kidnapped me.
"What… do you want… from me?" I asked, my voice cracking embarrassingly. "Where are you… taking me?"
I felt him smirk against my back before he leaned closer.
"I'm taking you hunting."
Hunting?
"Hunting? What are you talking—"
Before I could finish, he pulled me into the woods—and like the idiot of the year, I followed him.
We walked deeper and deeper between the trees, branches clawing at my arms, leaves crunching beneath our feet. And still, I followed. Like I'd been hypnotized. Like his hand in mine had replaced my common sense entirely. There was something restless and excited radiating off him, something sharp and alive, and even though every survival instinct I possessed was screaming at me to run, my feet refused to listen.
Then suddenly, he stopped.
And my brain finally rebooted.
I had just followed Blue Gem—Blue Jeremy—the most unhinged, terrifying person I knew—into a dark, creepy forest. Alone. During class hours.
Fantastic. This was exactly how people ended up on missing posters.
Fear wrapped its icy fingers around my spine.
"Uhm… Blue?" I asked carefully, my legs trembling. "What are we doing here?"
He turned to look at me.
And smiled.
Blue never smiled. He smirked. Smirks were arrogant. Smiles were worse. Smiles meant he was enjoying himself.
Something about it made my stomach drop.
"Well," he said simply. "We climb."
I blinked.
Climb?
Climb what? My expectations for survival? My regret?
"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.
He lifted his hand and pointed to a massive tree in front of us—thick, towering, ancient. Honestly, it looked exactly like every other tree around us, which was rude, because how was I supposed to know this was the special murder tree?
"Why do we need to climb this tree?" I asked, even more confused.
He didn't answer. Instead, he sighed softly, stepped closer—far too close—and suddenly his hands were on my waist.
Before I could protest, the ground disappeared beneath my feet.
He hoisted me up like I weighed nothing and placed me against the trunk.
"Quickly," he said sharply, climbing up beside me with effortless strength. "Keep climbing, or we will both die here."
Die?
Oh.
Oh, that was motivating.
"If you don't want to die," he added calmly, "you'd better hurry."
Well, when you put it like that.
Adrenaline exploded through me, and I scrambled upward, bark scraping my palms, my lungs burning. Branch after branch, higher and higher, until my arms trembled from the effort.
"Stop here," he said.
I froze, clinging to the trunk like a terrified squirrel.
"Blue?" I whispered, panic tightening my throat. "What are we doing up here?"
He leaned comfortably against the branch, completely relaxed, that same unsettling smile on his face.
"Just wait," he said. "You'll see."
I hated those words. Those were horror-movie words. People who said those words never survived to the credits.
Minutes passed.
The forest grew quieter. Too quiet.
Then—out of nowhere I heard something. Movement.
Two shapes emerged from the darkness between the trees.
At first, I thought they were shadows.
Then they stepped into the faint sunlight breaking through the thick trees.
My breath stopped.
They were wolves. Gray wolves
But not normal wolves.
They were massive—each one as tall as a grown man, their bodies thick with muscle, their eyes glowing faintly in the dim lighting. Their paws sank into the earth with heavy, deliberate steps, and every instinct in my body screamed predator.
My heart dropped straight into my stomach.
"Bl… Bl… Blue?" I whispered, barely able to breathe. "What the hell are those?"
My fingers tightened around the branch as a new fear appeared—falling. Falling and landing right in front of them like a delivery service I absolutely did not sign up for.
Beside me, Blue didn't look afraid.
He looked thrilled.
His eyes lit up, his smile widening into something wild.
And before I could even process what he was doing—
He jumped.
He launched himself out of the tree and dropped straight onto the back of one of the wolves like a complete maniac.
My soul left my body.
I nearly died right there on the branch.