Seen and Unseen
1463 Words
Ava stood at her window the next morning, breath fogging the glass as she watched the sun’s pale attempt to burn away the mist in the woods. The branches looked like claws, black against silver sky. She scanned the tree line for movement—thinking of sharp eyes watching, of midnight howls that had bled into her dreams.
Maybe she was just tired, jumpy from a restless night. Maybe Lucas’s warning and the note in math were coloring her imagination.
She dressed in jeans and a thrift-store hoodie, pressing her headphones into her ears to block the low hum of anxiety. Her mother was up before dawn, filling the kitchen with the smells of instant coffee and burnt toast.
“Morning, honey.” Her mom’s smile seemed brighter in the kitchen’s honey-colored light. “Nervous about today?”
“A little,” Ava admitted, grabbing a piece of toast.
“You don’t have to be,” her mom said, running a soothing hand over Ava’s wild hair, like she’d done when Ava was little. “You’re strong. People will see that.”
Ava almost told her about Lucas’s words the night before, about Sidney and the rumors—but stopped herself. What would her mom do? She’d worry, maybe switch jobs again, or move one more time when things got hard. Ava forced a smile instead and kissed her mom on the cheek.
“I’m good, really. See you after school.”
She left for the bus stop, backpack bumping her hip. The air outside was cold and clean, carrying the smell of pine resin and something faintly animal. She caught herself scanning the shadows once more—nothing but bird chatter and distant laughter.
As she neared the stop, a black pickup rumbled to a halt. The window rolled down. Lucas.
“Get in,” he said, dark hair tousled from the wind. “I’ll drive you.”
She hesitated, glancing down the road. Other kids were starting to gather, most of them staring openly at the sight of Lucas Knight picking up the new girl.
“Lucas, I can take the—”
“My dad told me to look out for you,” he interrupted. “Sides, you’d be late. Hop in.”
There was an edge to his voice—not unkind, but insistent—and a glimmer of something she couldn’t name in those golden eyes.
Ava slid into the truck, feeling every curious stare as Lucas pulled away from the curb.
“How was your first day?” he said after a minute, eyes on the road.
She peeled at the hem of her sleeve, thinking of Sidney and the warning note. “Uneventful. Full of math, rumors, and cafeteria pizza.”
His lips twitched. “Could’ve been worse.”
They drove in silence. When they reached the high school, Lucas parked at the far end of the lot, away from the other vehicles. Ava stepped out just as the first bell shrieked, sending a flock of ravens swooping from a nearby tree.
As they entered the school, Sidney and her group swarmed near the lockers. Sidney’s fake smile sharpened as Lucas approached.
“Well, if it isn’t our favorite power couple,” she cooed, voice loud enough to draw attention.
Ava felt her cheeks flush, but Lucas’s expression stayed unreadable. “Back off, Sid,” he said quietly, not even looking at her.
Sidney tsked. “Whatever you say, alpha boy. Don’t let the new girl slow you down.”
The girls giggled and drifted away, throwing Ava glances like thrown knives. Lucas watched them go, body taut.
“They’ll get bored,” he said softly, turning to Ava. “Stay near me today, ok?”
Ava opened her mouth to protest, but he was already striding down the hall, head high—leaving her with no choice but to follow if she didn’t want to face the stares alone.
.
.
Biology was a blur of diagrams and whispered instructions. Lucas had been assigned as her lab partner, and the other kids seemed used to it—either reluctant or relieved not to be paired with him themselves.
Ms. Ingram handed out microscopes and slides, her eyes narrowed at the class’s chatter. “Pairs, listen up. This experiment counts for a third of your grade. No excuses, no drama. Lucas—you’re with Ava from now on. Make sure she keeps up.”
Lucas winked. “We’ll manage.”
Ava rolled her eyes, but in truth, working with Lucas steadied her. His hands were deft with the microscope, his explanations quiet but precise.
“See this?” he nudged her shoulder, pointing to a squirming amoeba under the lens. “They pretend to blend in but never really disappear. Survival tactic.”
“Sounds familiar,” Ava whispered, unable to help her smile.
Lucas’s mouth twitched, just a ghost of a smile, and something electric moved between them—gone as quickly as it arrived.
At the end of class, as students gathered their books, Ms. Ingram called Ava to her desk.
“I know it’s tough, moving senior year,” she said, her gaze direct and oddly comforting. “If you need help with the material, or anything else, let me know.”
Ava nodded, murmuring thanks. As she left, she glimpsed Sidney and her clique in the hallway, talking in low voices, their gazes flicking in her direction.
.
The day crawled. By lunch, the tension had doubled. Someone had taped a crude, handwritten note to her locker:
Hope you survive the year, new girl
Below it, a cartoon wolf with bared teeth.
Ava’s heart raced. She ripped it down, clenching it in her fist. When she turned, Lucas was leaning against the lockers, watching her with hooded eyes.
He glanced at the note, then at her. “Idiots.”
Ava tried to sound brave. “Let them have their fun. It’s nothing.”
Lucas’s face tightened. “You should take it seriously. These games—they don’t always stay games.” There was a darkness behind his words, a warning beneath the surface.
Lunch was a repeat of the day before: whispers, pointed stares, Lucas joining her despite the clear signal it sent to the rest of the school. Once, their knees brushed under the table and a current pulsed between them, sharp as static.
“Don’t walk alone after school,” Lucas said quietly, gaze distant. “Promise me.”
Ava scowled. “I’m not a child. You don’t need to protect me.”
His eyes locked on hers. “It’s not about need. It’s about what’s coming.”
The words unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
.
.
When the final bell rang, Ava lingered by her locker until most students had gone. The halls felt longer, emptier. Even the posters frayed at the edges, like everything in this place was on the verge of coming undone.
She checked her phone. No message from her mom. Rain needled the windows.
Lucas found her at the entrance, tossing his keys from hand to hand. “Come on,” he murmured. “I’ll walk you.”
They stepped out into a world painted gray. The woods pressed close, leaves rattling like bones overhead. The wind carried a distant, haunting howl. Ava shivered, adjusting her backpack.
For a while, they walked in silence. Ava thought of the notes, the stares, the weight of being an outsider in a town where secrets seemed to grow like weeds.
She finally broke the quiet. “What are you so afraid of, Lucas?”
He stopped, looking at her with eyes gone eerily gold. “Sometimes the worst things are the ones you don’t see.”
As if on cue, a dark shape moved in the treeline ahead—something too tall, too silent for any animal. Ava’s breath froze in her lungs.
Lucas stepped in front of her, shoulders squared, every muscle coiled.
“Get in the house. Now,” he said, voice lower and rougher than she’d ever heard.
Ava fumbled with the keys, heart hammering as she dashed up the porch. She glanced back as Lucas stood unmoving, his gaze locked on the forest.
For just a moment, she thought she saw something else watching from the woods—eyes glinting pale against the shadows.
That night, Ava lay awake, replaying Lucas’s warnings and the things she thought she saw. Out her window, the woods waited—dark, alive, holding answers to questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask.
Between the whispers and shadows, Ava sensed she was being drawn toward something dangerous and irresistible… and that Lucas might be the only one willing to stand between her and the darkness.
- Writer
