Friday morning hit like a hangover made of nerves and glitter.
Campus buzzed with energy. Festival posters hung from every light post, the cheer squad had glitter spray in their hair before first period, and half the football team walked around like they were already legends. Between game night and tomorrow's Battle of the Bands, Thornhollow was practically vibrating.
And I was caught in the eye of the storm.
I hadn't seen Alec since yesterday-since the locker room.
His hands.
His mouth.
His name-Alecai-still tasted like something forbidden on my tongue.
But he hadn't looked at me once since. Not in the hallway. Not at morning check-in. Not even when I passed him outside by the parking lot with Brett.
Like it never happened.
But I knew better.
-----
"Earth to Scarlet," Ana's voice snapped me out of my spiral. She tossed me a mic as we stepped onto the auditorium stage. "You okay?"
"Fine," I lied, wrapping the cord around my fingers. "Just... distracted."
Zack was already behind the drum set, casually tapping a beat with one stick. Reenie stood off to the side, chewing gum like it owed her something, hood up over her mess of curls. Brett was tuning his guitar, his jacket slung over a speaker, sleeves rolled up like he was trying to start a scandal.
"Alright, weirdos," Ana clapped, "last run-through before tomorrow night. Let's not embarrass ourselves in front of half of Thornhollow."
"Speak for yourself," Brett said with a grin, strumming a chord. "I was born to be worshipped."
"Worshipped or punched?" Reenie muttered.
Brett shot her a wink. "Is there a difference?"
I smirked despite myself and stepped up to center mic. Ana gave me a subtle nod-our cue.
Zack counted us in with four sharp taps. Then music surged.
We launched into Shadows and Sparks-an original Ana and I had been playing around with since high school. But now it was real. Loud. Alive.
Brett's guitar added edge. Zack's rhythm grounded it. Reenie surprised all of us when she joined in during the second chorus, her smoky voice blending into Ana's like something electric.
And me? I let go.
For three and a half minutes, I wasn't the girl Alec disappeared on. I wasn't caught between glances and guilt. I was just Scarlet-center stage, voice raw, heart open.
We hit the final chord.
Silence hung in the air for a beat, then Ana whooped. "Yes! That was it!"
Reenie actually cracked a smile. Zack tossed a drumstick in the air and caught it behind his back.
Brett stepped toward me, a little breathless. "You keep singing like that tomorrow and I might fall in love."
I raised a brow. "Might?"
He grinned and leaned in. "I play the long game, Everen."
Ana rolled her eyes but smiled. "Okay, rockstars. Let's go before we're actually late for third period."
We started packing up, adrenaline still fizzing through my veins. I glanced once toward the back of the auditorium, half-expecting to see Alec standing there, watching from the shadows like he always used to.
But the doorway was empty.
He wasn't here.
------
By the time I walked into third period Literature, I was already late.
Deliberately.
I pushed open the door with just enough force to make heads turn. The room was quiet, students already scribbling notes or pretending to care about Brontë. Alec stood at the front-his usual spot-leaning against the desk with a book in one hand and a mug of something that definitely wasn't just coffee in the other.
His eyes flicked up as I entered.
Just once.
That was all I needed.
I saw it-that flicker. The way his grip tightened on the mug. The sharp breath he dragged through his nose like it could erase last night.
It didn't.
I wore the same cheer skirt from yesterday, but this time with a cropped black sweater. No jacket. No effort to hide the marks he left behind-just enough glow in my skin and curve in my walk to remind him of exactly what his hands had done.
I took my seat slowly, crossing my legs with precise, agonizing control.
Alec's jaw twitched.
"Miss Everen," he said, voice cool but cracked at the edges. "Glad you could join us."
"Wouldn't miss it," I replied, tone sugar-laced and venom-tipped.
I felt Brett shift beside me-his shoulder brushing mine, just enough contact to make Alec's eye twitch.
And gods, that made me smile.
Alec turned back to the board, scribbling something in fast, slashing strokes:
Obsession. Betrayal. Power.
"Today," he said, "we explore what happens when desire collides with consequence."
I leaned forward, pen in hand, biting the tip in mock thought. "Does that mean we'll be talking about forbidden relationships, Professor?"
He stiffened, his back still to us. "It means we'll be discussing boundaries. And what happens when they're crossed."
Heat pooled low in my stomach.
I watched the curve of his shoulders as he lectured, the lines of tension tightening in every breath. He didn't look at me again. Not directly.
But I could feel him unraveling.
Brett leaned closer, voice low. "Are you messing with him?"
I smiled without answering.
Alec's voice dipped. "Some lines, once crossed, are impossible to return from."
I uncrossed my legs slowly, shifting just enough to let my skirt ride up. His breath hitched-so small most would've missed it.
But not me.
Not after last night.
The bell rang before I could deliver another blow. Students rose, gathering bags and notebooks, filing out in a buzz of whispered gossip and restless energy.
I lingered again. Just a beat.
But Alec didn't speak. Didn't move.
So I stood, tucked my notebook under my arm, and walked past him-close enough for him to smell the vanilla on my skin, the heat still clinging to me.
I paused at the door.
"Great lesson," I said softly, without turning around.
And then I was gone.
The stadium lights cast a soft golden glow over the field, the stands buzzing with excited chatter and crisp autumn energy. The Friday night crowd was louder than usual-parents, students, even a few festival vendors setting up early along the back gates.
The town loved their football. Thornhollow's finest.
And tonight, we were the opening act.
The cheer squad stood lined along the field, pompoms sparkling under the lights, faces painted in school colors, breath fogging in the cool air. I forced a smile, keeping my movements sharp and precise as we launched into the halftime routine we'd practiced for weeks.
My body knew the motions.
But my mind was miles away.
I could feel Alec on the sidelines-his presence like a second heartbeat. I caught him watching me once during a tumbling pass, the way his gaze followed me like I was the only thing in the world not falling apart.
And Brett? He was on the field, running drills, rallying the team like nothing could shake him.
Except I knew better.
He still hadn't asked about Literature class. About Alec. About what was building between the three of us like a storm no one could stop.
When the halftime performance ended, the crowd erupted. I landed with a practiced smile, arms high, heart racing.
But the ache inside me never stopped.
Ana glanced over as we jogged off the field. "You okay?"
"Peachy," I lied.
She didn't believe me. She didn't press.
Not yet.