Seb woke up at six in the morning because a bird was sitting on his windowsill making noise like it had somewhere important to be.
He stared at it.
It stared back.
"You followed me from outside didn't you."
The bird said nothing but it had the energy of someone who was not going to apologize.
Seb pulled his pillow over his face and tried to go back to sleep. That lasted about four minutes before he gave up, got dressed in the dark so he wouldn't wake Marcus, grabbed his bag and headed out.
The campus was quiet at this hour. Just the sound of his footsteps on the stone path and the early morning fog sitting low over the grass. He liked it. The stillness. Most people found early mornings empty but Seb always thought they were just... honest. No performance. No noise. Just things being exactly what they were.
He found the campus cafe by accident, following the smell of coffee through a side door he nearly walked past. Small place, warm lighting, maybe four other people inside. He ordered a black coffee, found a corner table and pulled out his notebook.
He flipped to a fresh page and started writing down everything he had noticed yesterday. The way the students split naturally down the middle of the hall. The weight in the air around certain people. The scratch marks on his bed frame. The lock on the window.
Small things. Probably nothing.
But Seb had learned a long time ago that small things were never nothing.
He was halfway through his coffee when someone pulled out the chair across from him and sat down without asking.
He looked up slowly.
It was the guy from the courtyard.
Up close he was... okay Seb could admit it, he was a lot. Sharp features, dark eyes that were almost too dark, the kind of effortless style that made it look like he'd never had to try at anything in his life. He set a coffee cup down on the table, crossed one leg over the other and looked at Seb like he had all the time in the world.
"You're in my seat," he said.
Seb looked around the nearly empty cafe. "There are about fifteen empty seats."
"And yet."
"And yet nothing. I was here first."
The guy smiled. It was a slow smile that probably worked very well on most people. "You're the new scholarship student. Sebastian Cole."
"Most people just say hi first."
"Most people aren't me."
Seb leaned back in his chair and looked at him properly. Something about this guy made the air feel different. Not heavy like the people in the hall yesterday. More like... sharp. Like standing near something with an edge you couldn't see.
"You were staring at me from across the courtyard yesterday," Seb said.
"Was I."
"You know you were."
"Maybe I was just looking in that direction."
"For about three minutes straight."
The guy picked up his coffee. "You were counting."
"I was noticing. There's a difference." Seb tapped his pen against the table. "You going to tell me your name or are we doing this the weird way."
Something shifted in those dark eyes. Amusement maybe. Like Seb had said something unexpected.
"Caspian," he said. "Caspian Voss."
"Seb." He didn't offer a handshake. Something told him this guy wasn't the handshake type.
Caspian glanced down at the open notebook on the table. His eyes moved across the page quickly, too quickly, like he had read the whole thing in about two seconds.
Seb closed it.
"Observant," Caspian said.
"Paranoid according to my roommate."
"Paranoid people notice things other people miss." He said it like it was just a fact. "That's not a bad thing to be at this school."
Seb studied him. "That's the second time someone has said something like that to me since I arrived."
"Maybe that means something."
"Or maybe everyone at this school is just dramatic."
Caspian smiled again. This time it reached his eyes just a little. "You're going to be interesting."
"You say that like it's a problem."
"At Crestwood..." he stood up, picked up his coffee, straightened his jacket, "it usually is." He looked at Seb one more time with those too dark eyes. "Enjoy your morning, Sebastian."
"It's Seb."
But he was already walking away.
Seb watched him go then turned back to his notebook, opened it and added a name under the first description he had written last night.
Caspian Voss.
Then underneath that he wrote three words.
Knows too much.
He had his first class at nine. Introduction to criminology, third floor of the humanities building, professor who spoke like every word cost him money.
Seb found a seat, dropped his bag, pulled out his notebook.
Someone sat down next to him.
He turned expecting Marcus.
It was Caspian.
Seb stared at him. "Are you serious."
"I take this class," Caspian said simply, opening what looked like a brand new notebook that probably cost more than Seb's entire bag.
"You just happened to take this specific class."
"Criminology is fascinating."
"Since when."
"Since always."
Seb turned back to the front of the class. Counted to five. "You picked this class because I'm in it."
Caspian didn't answer which was basically an answer.
The professor started talking and Seb tried very hard to concentrate. He really did. But having Caspian sitting two feet away with that same sharp, edged energy was like trying to read in a room where one light kept flickering. You could ignore it for a while but eventually it pulled your attention every single time.
Halfway through the lecture Caspian leaned over slightly and said quietly, "You wrote the wrong date in your notes."
Seb looked down. He had written the wrong date.
"I wasn't asking," he whispered back.
"I know. I'm just telling you."
"Stop looking at my notes."
"Stop writing the wrong date."
The guy sitting in front of them turned around with an annoyed look. Both of them went quiet.
Seb fixed the date.
He was not going to admit that Caspian was right. He was going to take that to his grave.
After class he was heading down the main path toward the dining hall when he walked directly into what felt like a wall.
He stumbled back, looked up and found himself face to face with the guy from the back of the orientation hall.
Even closer now he was... a lot. Tall, broad, dark eyes, the kind of presence that made people on the path around them unconsciously move out of the way without knowing why they were doing it.
They stared at each other.
"Sorry," Seb said. "Wasn't looking where I was going."
The guy said nothing. He was just looking at Seb with that same expression from yesterday. Like something had surprised him and he still hadn't figured out what to do about it.
It was starting to get a little uncomfortable.
"Are you okay?" Seb asked.
"Who are you," the guy said. His voice was low and even.
Seb blinked. "The person who just walked into you and apologized. Who are you?"
Something moved through the guy's expression. "Damon Ashford."
"Seb Cole." He adjusted his bag on his shoulder. "You were staring at me during orientation yesterday."
"I wasn't staring."
"You were a little bit."
Damon's jaw tightened very slightly. "I was looking in your direction."
"For a while."
"I'm looking in your direction right now."
"Yeah I noticed." Seb studied him the same way he'd studied Caspian that morning. Same heavy air but different. Where Caspian felt sharp and edged, this guy felt like... pressure. Like standing near something very large that was holding itself very still. "Do you always walk up to people and ask who they are?"
"No," Damon said. And the honesty in it was so plain that Seb almost didn't know what to say.
Almost.
"Okay," Seb said. "Well. Now you know." He stepped around him. "Try not to stare so much Damon. People notice."
He walked away.
Behind him he could feel those eyes following him all the way down the path.
He added a second name to his notebook at lunch.
Damon Ashford.
And underneath it, the same three words he had written under Caspian's name.
Knows too much.
Then he sat back, looked at both names side by side and tapped his pen against the page.
Two strangers. First day. Both looking at him like they already had an answer to a question he hadn't asked yet.
He drew a circle around both names.
Something connected them. He didn't know what yet.
But he was going to find out.