Chapter 1: The Girl Who Blends In
Lira pressed her forehead against the school bus window, watching the buildings blur past in streaks of grey and gold. Her hoodie was three sizes too big, her backpack strap tangled with one earbud, and a crumpled sketchbook peeked from the side pocket — pages full of dreamscapes and moonlit cities she'd never visit.
Today was the first day of high school. And she was already regretting being born.
"You got this," she whispered to herself.
The universe, as usual, ghosted her.
The bus jerked to a stop in front of Graywood High — a school that looked like it hadn't had a pep rally since joy died in 1984. Brick walls, faded banners, and the flicker of a dying hallway light like it was performing its own horror movie monologue.
Lira stepped off the bus, tripped over absolutely nothing, and faceplanted into the concrete.
Beautiful.
"Classic Lira," came Mina's voice, deadpan. She appeared at her side like a summoned gremlin, sipping from a juice box. "First fall of the semester. We're off to a strong start."
Lira groaned into the sidewalk. "Just bury me here. I'll become one with the asphalt."
"Can't. I need someone to sit next to in Chemistry so I don't combust."
They navigated the chaos of first-day crowds — backpacks swinging like medieval weapons, freshmen screaming like the floor was lava, and teachers pretending they still cared about any of this.
Lira clung to her schedule like it was a map to Narnia. And then… she saw him.
Aeron.
Leaning near the lockers like he was carved out of secrets and sad indie music. Dark hair, sharp jaw, silver chain catching the light. He wasn't talking to anyone — just quietly existing like a plot twist.
Her brain short-circuited. Somewhere between "Do I make eye contact?" and "How do knees work?"
"You're staring," Mina whispered.
"I'm admiring. From a distance. Respectfully."
"You look like a stunned goldfish. Close your mouth."
Lira snapped out of it and yanked her hood up like it could shield her from her own bad decisions.
She hadn't even reached her locker when Jayce materialized beside her like a walking jump scare.
"New year, new trauma," he grinned. "How's the anxiety, Lira?"
"Thriving," she muttered, fumbling her locker combo like it was a bomb defusal code.
"That's the spirit. Oh — did you hear we've got a new principal? Apparently he's either a vampire or just really into leather."
Mina choked mid-sip and shot juice out of her nose.
"Perfect," Lira said dryly. "My only hope was to blend in until graduation. Now I'll probably get sacrificed during morning announcements."
Lunch was worse.
She spilled her drink. Twice.
Mina nearly got into a philosophical debate with a teacher over whether sarcasm was a valid love language.
Jayce bet someone five bucks Lira was secretly a ninja because she "moved like someone trying not to exist."
And Aeron?
He sat two tables away. Headphones on. Eyes unreadable.
But not once did he glance up.
Lira tried to stop looking. She really did.
But every time, something in her chest fluttered like her heart wanted to say hi even if her mouth didn't.
She doodled in her sketchbook just to have something to do — swirls of stars and moonlight bleeding into the shape of someone leaning against a locker.
When she looked down again, her pencil had drawn Aeron. She hadn't even realized.
"I hate myself," she muttered
Mina leaned over. "Love looks good on you."
"I will eat this pencil."