Episode Four
1323 Words
"I don’t think she knows yet… Oh, one of those...”
My chest tightened. One of what? I tried to force my eyelids open, but my body felt stiff.
When I finally opened my eyes, the sharp smell of bleach and antiseptic hit my nostrils, and I almost passed out again.
My eyes widened at the sight of the immaculate ceilings and wall tiles. This was nothing like the cramped, familiar infirmary at my old school.
"You're awake.” My head turned in the direction of the voice. A guy was seated in a chair beside the bed.
His long legs were stretched out, ankles crossed, looking like he was settling in for a movie rather than watching a girl recover from a blackout. I blinked.
“How am I...”
"In the infirmary?” His lips curved into a small, faint smile. “I’m Jackson. And you must be the new human girl everyone’s been yapping about.”
That word again. Human.
"I was in the locker rooms… There was a sound... a growl, maybe."
The door swung open and a nurse stepped in, her eyes sharp, scanning my vitals before she reached the bed.
“Miss Stevens, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Any dizziness? Nausea… confusion?”
Her fingers closed around my wrist. Too tight.
I winced. “My head hurts. That’s all.”
Her gaze flicked to my pulse point… then stilled. For a second… something changed in her expression. Then it was gone.
“You were found unconscious near the boys’ locker room,” she said, releasing my arm. “Likely low blood sugar. Or stress from the transition.”
Jackson made a quiet sound under his breath. The nurse gave him a look and ignored him. He stood up, stretching with a fluid motion that made my pulse skip.
“Found her crumpled like a discarded jersey. Thought I’d better play the Good Samaritan before someone stepped on her.”
“You’re stable,” she continued, "but I suggest you pace yourself. This environment can be… overwhelming for those who aren’t… accustomed to it.”
Her eyes met mine again. This time, the look lingered.
“Try not to make this a habit, Miss Stevens.”
“Am I cleared for class?” I asked.
"For now,” she said, already turning toward the door. “Don't make me see you again today.”
Jackson lingered as the nurse disappeared. He shot me a small, mocking grin. “Try not to die in your first week, yeah? It’s a lot of paperwork.”
"Comforting," I muttered. It was strange that even though I had just met Jackson before, I kind of felt comfortable around him.
He excused himself and ran after the nurse.
The moment I swung my legs off the bed and stood, the floor decided to become unstable. I swayed, the room tilting.
"Easy, Red.” A hand clamped onto my upper arm.
I froze.
Mason.
He stood there, his amber eyes searching my face.
"I heard you weren’t feeling well, Red."
"Heard? From whom?” I tried to pull my arm away, but his grip remained firm.
"Word travels fast in a place like this.” He stepped closer, until I could smell him.
“But tell me something. How does a girl like you accidentally wander into the boys’ locker room late at night?”
Heat rushed to my face. “I... I was looking for the equipment room. I got lost.”
"Is that right?” Mason’s brow lifted slightly. “Most ‘humans’ hear a growl in the dark and run the other way. You went looking for the source.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but the reappearance of Jackson Hale at the doorway sealed my lips shut. He leaned against the frame, arms folded.
The air in the room changed instantly. Mason didn't look at him immediately, but his jaw tightened.
“You’re in the wrong place, Hale,” Mason said, his voice low.
Jackson turned around slightly, mockingly checking to see if there was anyone else present. "Uhh, I don’t think so.”
Mason glared at him.
“Did you miss the part where I found her and carried her all the way here?” Jackson asked, brushing invisible dirt off his arm. “She weighs a ton,” he added, his lips curving into a toothy grin.
Silence erupted afterward, but it felt charged… heavy. Then Mason exhaled. "Talk later, Red.”
He let go of my arm so fast it felt like a rejection, then brushed past Jackson without a word, their shoulders colliding slightly. The tension between them was like a live wire.
"What was that about?” I asked, rubbing the spot where Mason’s hand had been.
Jackson straightened up, a smirk playing on his lips. “Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, B. He just doesn't like sharing his toys.”
"It's Brooke,” I corrected, my voice sharper than I intended. “And I’m not a toy.”
"Really now? Didn't seem like you minded being called Red.” He pushed himself off the wall.
“Careful, B. You’re already getting pulled into things you don’t understand. This isn't your local high school.”
***
The natatorium was a hive of activity, but the moment I stepped out.
Then she walked in and everywhere was silent.
Serena Adams walked into swim practice like she was advertising for a fashion show.
Her blonde hair was pulled back into a sleek, tight ponytail. She stopped three feet from me.
"So… the state champion from the hood.”
"Me?” I mumbled, my eyes darting around.
A few teammates paused their warm-ups, ears tilted toward us.
"Who else would I be referring to?” she spat, rolling her eyes.
“You swam well during evaluations,” Serena continued, crossing her arms. “Ocean Hills is a different ecosystem. The pressure here... it tends to break things that aren't reinforced.”
"I'm counting on the challenge,” I replied, summoning every ounce of courage I had.
She gave a quick smile and retorted, “Good. Because here, people earn their place. They don't just get handed scholarships because they're a… charity case,” she finished, her eyes staring me down.
"Let's get in the water, ladies!” the coach barked.
“Move it!”
The moment I hit the water, the world made sense again. But something felt very wrong.
I felt... lighter. Every pull of my arms propelled me further than it should have. I felt a surge of raw, terrifying power in my quads as I flipped at the wall.
I was moving too fast. I could feel the eyes on me… Serena’s narrowed glare, the coach’s dropped clipboard.
As I climbed out of the pool at the end of the set, my heart wasn't even racing. My lungs felt clear. I reached for my towel… but something caught my ankle.
Not enough to trip anyone paying attention, but clearly, I wasn’t. I went down hard, my arm slamming against the metal bench.
Pain tore through my skin. A sharp ‘hiss’ went through the room. Then… laughter. Lots of it. I looked up.
Serena stood a few feet away, arms folded, her lips twisted sideways. Her eyes were on me.
“Careful, Stevens,” she drawled. “Wouldn’t want a fragile being like you getting hurt your first week here.”
I looked down at my arm. Blood was starting to ooze along the scrape. It hurt… then all of a sudden, it didn’t.
The ache dulled. Fast. Too fast.
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding frantically against my ribs. The torn skin slowly shifted together. I blinked rapidly.
“What the actual hell?”
The raw edges were sealed. My shaky hands hovered around my arm, afraid to touch it.
“This isn’t… this can't be real…”
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