Chapter 2: Loner Boy, Table Six
1043 Words
Alpha’s POV
Cafeteria — Lunch Period
The cafeteria buzzed with noise and the smell of fried everything—like teenage spirit dipped in grease. I walked in with Beta, both of us still cracking up about a backstage disaster involving glitter, duct tape, and the world’s most poorly timed smoke machine.
My hair was mostly dry from the post-practice shower, still a little damp at the ends where it clung to my shoulders. I’d swapped my jersey for jeans and a clean Wolfhaven shirt, but I still felt that buzzy charge under my skin. Our sneakers squeaked faintly on the tile, and every now and then, I caught our reflection in the vending machine glass—me, steady and grounded; Beta, all flourish and flair.
She was already mid-rant, gesturing like she was directing a Broadway finale, the pen behind her ear daring someone to disagree.
“... and then he face-plants into the fog machine,” she cackled. “Like a tragic disco yeti. I swear, the glitter puffed out like fairy dust.”
I grinned. “Honestly, the glitter saved it.”
Our usual crew spotted us and waved.
“Alpha! Beta! Over here!”
We slid into our seats, greeted with fries, half-finished drinks, and overlapping conversations. The room pulsed with teen energy—shouts across tables, soda cans cracking open, someone beatboxing near the vending machine like this was Step Up: Cafeteria Edition. It was loud, it was messy, and it was ours. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“Did you see the new guy?” Lila asked, leaning in like she had juicy gossip. “Tall. Broody. Lean like he’s auditioning for the national soccer team.”
“Oh, mysterious loner boy energy,” Kira chimed in. “Ten bucks says tragic backstory.”
“Or secret bodyguard,” Beta said dramatically, flinging an arm over my shoulder like she was narrating a cheesy movie trailer. “Sent here to protect the chosen one. Probably me.”
“You all sound like you’re writing a Netflix pilot,” I said with a smirk.
“Coming soon: Brooding New Boy—he’s got abs and secrets,” Beta added, tossing a fry in the air dramatically.
“Plot twist,” Lila said. “He’s actually a vampire.”
“Wrong show,” said Kira. “That’s season three.”
I stabbed my fork into my salad and kept my expression neutral. “So what’s the twist ending?”
“Secret prince,” said Lila.
“Undercover hacker,” Diego offered through a mouthful of fries.
I rolled my eyes, but a part of me stayed tuned in. It was like my instincts had perked up.
Across from me, I caught Diego’s subtle glance over my shoulder.
“If he’s got moves, he should try out,” he added. “We could use someone with speed up front.”
He was trying to be casual, but I’d played with Diego long enough to read the signals. That glance? Not random.
Still, I hadn’t noticed anyone new in class. And definitely not on the field.
I looked over my shoulder, just to check.
Nothing. Just … cafeteria blur. Same tables. Same fluorescent hum. Same mystery meat on the menu.
Then again … something about today felt off. Not bad off. Just different. Like a movie about to cut to the plot twist.
~ ~ ~
Jace’s POV
Opposite Side of the Cafeteria — Same Time
I sat alone, tray untouched, watching.
The cafeteria buzzed with movement, but for me, everything slowed down. It was like stepping into a soundscape—layers of clatter, chatter, and scent. I didn’t need to look twice to know exactly where she was. The air around her felt different—lighter, charged, like her laughter sparked something in the molecules.
Her voice carried, even in the chaos. Smooth. Confident. Unmistakable.
Alpha.
The name looped in my thoughts like a question and a memory at once.
A soccer ball twirled into my line of sight.
“Hey,” said a voice. “You the new guy?”
I looked up. Diego.
Confident posture. Casual grin. Probably used to being top dog around here.
“Jace, right?”
I nodded.
“I’m Diego. Captain of the boys’ team. You play?”
I glanced at the ball spinning on his finger—smooth, practiced. Then at Alpha’s table, where she was laughing like the world made sense. She hadn’t looked my way.
Yet.
“Yeah,” I said. “I play.”
Diego grinned and bumped fists with me like we were already teammates. “Tryouts are Friday. We need new blood.”
He tilted his head toward the table. “Girls’ captain’s over there. Alpha.”
As if I didn’t already know.
He passed me the ball like it was a handshake and walked back to his friends.
I stared at the ball for a moment, fingers curling around the stitched leather. There was a quiet gravity to it—like it anchored something I hadn’t figured out yet.
This was instinct-level recognition. I’d only ever felt it once before—standing beside my father. My Alpha.
The second time? Was now.
And I had no idea what it meant.
~ ~ ~
Alpha’s POV
Diego rejoined the table, flopping into his seat like he’d just returned from an epic quest.
“He’s in,” he said.
I didn’t press for details. If the guy could play, I’d see it soon enough.
But I couldn’t help it—my eyes drifted.
He sat alone. Quiet. Still. Like he was plugged into a different frequency.
It wasn’t the mystery that got me. It was the energy—like static right before a lightning strike, only quieter. Like the air around him bent slightly. Like the lunchroom hadn’t decided yet if he was the main character or the plot twist.
Not fear. Not even interest. Just … awareness.
I turned back to the table. Beta was mid-rant about costume budgets. Kira was showing Lila a meme. Everything normal. Except me.
Except today.
Except it wasn’t.
Something had shifted.
And I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to notice …
… or if I’d already missed something important.
- Writer
