I was five minutes late to school.
Zoya made a dramatic dying sound the second she saw me.
"You absolute traitor," she hissed, walking in step with me. "Do you know how terrifying it is to sit in homeroom with no emotional support goblin beside me?"
"I overslept."
"You always oversleep. I thought you died! Or got kidnapped! Or, like, ascended into ghosthood to haunt our evil chem teacher."
I blinked at her. "If I was a ghost, do you think I'd haunt Mr. Krill? I'd go straight for the principal's office. Change the bell to play the Barbie theme song."
Zoya snorted. "Queen behavior."
---
Classes passed in a blur.
I kept my hoodie up most of the time, headphones half-in to avoid conversations. My teachers had stopped calling me out for it months ago. That's the thing about being broken quietly—people eventually treat it like background noise.
Third period, I caught Tyson staring at me.
Hard.
He looked like he wanted to say something, maybe thank me. Maybe ask how the hell he walked out yesterday with a healed ankle when I was the one limping.
But he didn't.
He just clenched his jaw and turned away.
Typical.
---
By lunch, I was already tired.
Zoya dragged me outside, where the sun was pretending to be generous for once. The courtyard buzzed with students. A group of girls were filming a TikTok by the fountain. Someone dropped a tray and cussed loud enough to earn claps.
I slumped onto the grass, pulling my knees to my chest.
"Ugh," Zoya groaned. "If I hear one more person say 'slay' unironically, I'm going to—"
"—slay?"
"Exactly."
I laughed. It was short, but real. Zoya had that effect.
And then I saw him.
Lucien Vale.
Black shirt, black jeans, leather jacket like he walked out of a 90s mafia film. He leaned against a tree like it owed him rent. And the way he watched everyone…
Like he was cataloging souls for auction.
Zoya followed my gaze. "Ohhh boy. Tall, dark, and terrifying. Ten bucks says he keeps a switchblade in his sock."
I snorted. "Twelve bucks says he owns a black cat named 'Vengeance'."
"Bet. Should I ask him?"
"Please don't."
But it was too late. Lucien was already walking over.
---
He stopped right in front of me. Eyes locked onto mine like they knew something I didn't want to say out loud.
"Rhea, right?"
His voice was low. Smooth. Like a secret spoken too close to your ear.
Zoya blinked. "Uh. Are we pretending we've met or…?"
Lucien ignored her. "Nice trick, yesterday. With Tyson."
My blood froze.
"What trick?"
Lucien tilted his head. "You limped. He didn't. Pretty curious, don't you think?"
Zoya stared between us. "Okay, what is happening?"
I forced a laugh. "Coincidence. We were both in gym. Maybe we both tripped. Maybe we have synchronized bad luck."
Lucien smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "Sure. Let's call it that—for now."
He turned, walked away like it was no big deal.
But my heart was slamming against my ribs like a warning siren.
---
Later, in the hallway, Tyson stopped me.
"Hey," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… I know this is weird, but thanks. For whatever you did. Even if you didn't."
I swallowed. "I didn't do anything."
He gave me a look. "You're limping on the leg I messed up. I'm not an idiot."
"Well," I said, trying to sound casual, "you play football, so… debatable."
He laughed.
"I'm serious though," he added. "It's like the pain left me. And came to you."
He looked spooked. Not grateful. Not relieved. Just… confused.
I faked a shrug. "Maybe it's God. Maybe it's karma. Maybe I'm secretly Jesus."
He snorted and walked away.
---
By the time last bell rang, I just wanted to go home, curl up, and vanish.
But when I opened my locker…
Another note.
> "I could make you powerful, Rhea.
But first, I need to know how you bleed."
My fingers went cold.
Someone knew.
Someone was watching.
And worse?
They weren't afraid of me.
They wanted to use me.
The second I walked into school, Zoya flung a banana at my head.
It smacked the locker behind me with a sad thud.
"What the—?"
"You ditched me at the bus stop!" she accused, hands on her hips. "I had to sit next to Flatulence Freddy the whole ride."
I grinned. "You love me."
"I do," she grumbled. "But one more betrayal and I'm switching to dark academia enemies. I'll be the hot mysterious friend who reads murder novels and stares at you in the rain."
"You already are."
She smirked.
---
We walked into first period, where Lucien Vale had the audacity to already be seated and looking like a moody painting.
He tapped his pen rhythmically against his notebook like it was some kind of Morse code for "I see you."
"Why is he always staring at you?" Zoya whispered as we took our seats.
"He's just… observant?"
"Rhea, he stares at you like he's trying to mentally download your entire personality."
I didn't respond. Because truth was… I didn't hate it.
Lucien had that vibe — like he'd sit on a rooftop at 3 a.m. writing poetry about someone he never spoke to. And lately, the way he watched me felt less like judgment and more like... wonder. Like he knew I was a glitch in the system and was dying to understand the code.
Still, after yesterday's "Nice trick" comment, I was on edge.
---
After class, he cornered me near the vending machine.
"Hey."
I turned, feigning casual. "Hey, Vengeance's dad."
He actually smiled. "I don't have a cat."
"You look like someone who has a cat."
"You look like someone who keeps secrets."
That wiped the smile off my face.
Before I could respond, he leaned slightly closer.
"I didn't send the note," he said quietly.
My heart stuttered. "What note?"
He tilted his head. "The one in your locker yesterday."
I stiffened.
He watched me for a beat, his expression unreadable. "You're not the only person who gets watched in this school."
I blinked. "Is someone watching you too?"
He gave the ghost of a nod. "Not the same way. But yeah… I feel it."
Then he walked off. No dramatic exit. No lingering glance.
Just… gone.
---
Lunch was weird.
Zoya poked at her pasta like it had committed a crime.
"Okay, spill. Why do you look like you just saw your future and it was a dumpster fire?"
I hesitated, then muttered, "Someone left a note in my locker yesterday."
She perked up. "Ooooh. What did it say? Please tell me it was 'Do you like me: Yes or Yes?'"
I pulled the note from my hoodie pocket and handed it to her under the table.
She read it.
Paused.
Then looked up. "What the hell?"
Exactly.
I'd read it a hundred times. The handwriting was sharp, clean. Too clean. The ink was dark red. Not blood, but close enough to give me chills.
> "I could make you powerful, Rhea.
But first, I need to know how you bleed."
Zoya whispered, "This is either some edgy poetry club stuff or someone needs a good tasing."
"I thought Lucien sent it. He didn't."
Zoya leaned in. "Rhea. You know I'm the queen of chaos, but this… this is bad. If someone's stalking you—"
"I'm not being stalked."
"You got a death note in your locker. That's entry-level stalking."
I sighed. "Don't tell anyone."
"Only if you pinky swear to not die. Or get recruited into a cult."
We locked pinkies.
---
After school, I lingered behind, pretending to look for a book in the library.
Something about Lucien's words haunted me: You're not the only one who's watched.
And then…
I felt it again.
A chill on the back of my neck. That prickling sixth sense. Like eyes on me from somewhere I couldn't see.
But when I turned, the hallway was empty.
No footsteps. No shadows. Just the soft hum of fluorescent lights and the whisper of wind through the open windows.
My phone buzzed.
Blocked number.
One text.
> "Don't trust the ones who stare too long.
They'll distract you from the ones who strike."
My chest tightened.
I swallowed.
Who the hell was this?
And how did they know where I was?