The taste of trouble
1332 Words
Anastasia didn’t scare easily.
That was the problem.
Fear kept people alive. Fear made people hesitate before making reckless decisions.
Anastasia had lost that instinct years ago.
So instead of throwing the photograph away like a normal person, she slid it back into the envelope and placed it inside her desk drawer.
Then she went to class.
Thursday — 9:12 AM
Rain covered Blackthorn University in a silver haze by morning.
Students rushed across campus holding umbrellas and overpriced coffee while luxury cars lined the curb outside the law building.
Anastasia stepped out of the dorm wearing black cargo pants, boots, and a dark oversized sweater Bianca claimed made her look “like a hot assassin.”
Bianca herself jogged beside her half-awake.
“If I fail economics,” Bianca mumbled dramatically, “bury me somewhere expensive.”
“You say that every morning.”
“And every morning it becomes more real.”
As they crossed the courtyard, whispers followed Anastasia again.
She ignored most of them.
Until one sentence drifted clearly through the rain.
“That’s the girl from the Moretti table.”
Another voice whispered back.
“She’s either sleeping with him or suicidal.”
Bianca groaned immediately.
“See?! THIS is what I warned you about.”
Anastasia kept walking.
“People here need hobbies.”
“They have hobbies. Gossip is one of them.”
The law building was already crowded when they entered.
Students filled the hallway outside criminal law, talking too loudly before class started.
Then the noise lowered suddenly.
Not silence.
Recognition.
Anastasia didn’t need to look up to know why.
Zane had arrived.
He walked through the hallway with Eli beside him, dark coat hanging loosely over broad shoulders, headphones around his neck.
Girls noticed him instantly.
Some smiled.
Some stared.
One brunette actually fixed her hair as he passed.
Zane ignored all of them.
Until his gaze landed on Anastasia.
Again.
Bianca muttered under her breath,
“Oh my God, he does that eye thing with you.”
Anastasia frowned slightly.
“What eye thing?”
“The intense serial killer staring.”
“That’s a ridiculous sentence.”
“And yet accurate.”
Zane stopped directly in front of them.
Or more specifically—
in front of Anastasia.
Eli lingered nearby, hands in his pockets, observant as always.
“You missed psychology yesterday,” Zane said calmly.
Bianca looked deeply offended.
“Do you people track each other’s attendance?”
Anastasia ignored her.
“I didn’t realize you cared.”
“I don’t.”
“Interesting,” she replied smoothly. “Because this is the third time you’ve approached me first.”
Eli looked away slightly.
Probably to hide amusement.
For half a second, Zane just stared at her.
Then—
very slowly—
he smiled.
Not warm or kind.
Worse.
Interested.
“You count?”
Anastasia adjusted the strap on her bag.
“I notice patterns.”
Something sharp flickered behind Zane’s eyes at that answer.
Because he did too.
Before either of them could speak again, Mason appeared carrying three coffees and unnecessary energy.
“There you are,” he announced dramatically. “Do you know how hard it is managing these emotionally damaged men alone?”
“No one asked you to,” Eli said.
“And yet I persevere.”
Mason handed one coffee to Zane, then looked toward Anastasia.
“I brought you one too.”
Anastasia raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t even know my order.”
“I took a risk. That’s romance.”
Bianca gasped softly.
“Oh my God, I’m watching rich people flirt in real time.”
“We’re not flirting,” Anastasia said immediately.
Mason looked offended.
“I am absolutely flirting.”
Zane took a sip of coffee while watching the interaction quietly.
Too quietly.
Mason noticed.
And immediately grinned wider.
Dangerous move.
“You know,” Mason continued, “there’s a party tomorrow night.”
Eli sighed softly like he already regretted the conversation.
Mason ignored him.
“You should come.”
Bianca answered before Anastasia could.
“She’s not going.”
Anastasia looked at her roommate.
“You don’t control me.”
“I know. Unfortunately.”
Mason leaned against the wall lazily.
“It’s at the Ashford Estate.”
Bianca nearly choked.
“No.”
“What?” Mason blinked innocently.
“You are NOT inviting her there.”
Now Anastasia was curious.
“The dramatic reaction suggests I should absolutely go.”
Bianca pointed at her aggressively.
“That party ruins lives every year.”
“Now I definitely want to go,” Anastasia said.
Zane finally spoke again.
“You shouldn’t.”
The hallway quieted slightly around them.
Not because he raised his voice.
Because he didn’t.
Zane Moretti never needed volume to command attention.
Anastasia met his eyes.
“Why?”
A pause.
Then he said calmly,
“Because people there won’t be careful with you.”
The words settled strangely between them.
Not concern exactly.
More like warning.
Anastasia tilted her head slightly.
“And you will?”
Bad question.
Or maybe very good.
Because something in Zane’s expression darkened instantly.
Not anger.
Recognition.
Tension.
Mason looked between them like he was watching a fire spread.
Eli quietly muttered, “This is getting worse.”
Bianca whispered back, “Worse for who?”
Eli didn’t answer.
Because he wasn’t sure anymore.
Zane stepped closer now.
Close enough for Anastasia to smell smoke and expensive cologne.
Close enough to notice the tiny scar near his jaw.
Close enough for the rest of the hallway to start openly staring.
“You ask dangerous questions,” he said softly.
Anastasia’s pulse flickered once.
Annoying.
“I like dangerous answers.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Electric.
Then the classroom doors opened.
The moment shattered instantly as students began filing inside.
Mason exhaled dramatically.
“And there goes the s****l tension.”
Bianca slapped his arm.
“Why are you like this?”
“Gifted?”
“Diseased.”
Anastasia moved first, walking into the lecture hall without another word.
But she could still feel it.
Zane watching her.
Not casually.
Not lightly.
Like curiosity was slowly becoming something harder to control.
Later That Night
The rain hadn’t stopped.
Anastasia sat alone in Room 314 while Bianca showered, soft music playing quietly from someone else’s dorm down the hallway.
The black envelope sat open on her desk again.
Beside it was her phone.
One unread message.
Unknown number.
You ignored the warning.
Her jaw tightened slightly.
Then another message appeared immediately after.
Bad choice.
Anastasia stared at the screen for a long moment before typing back.
Who are you?
Three dots appeared instantly.
Then disappeared.
No response.
The lights in the room flickered once.
Then went out completely.
Darkness swallowed the dorm.
Bianca yelped from the bathroom.
“WHY DOES THIS SCHOOL FEEL HAUNTED?”
Anastasia stood slowly.
Something felt wrong.
Not the blackout.
Something else.
Instinct.
Then—
three soft knocks hit the dorm door.
Slow.
Deliberate.
At 11:47 PM.
Bianca cracked the bathroom door open slightly.
“…Are you expecting someone?”
“No.”
Another knock.
This time harder.
Anastasia walked toward the door carefully.
Every instinct sharpening now.
The hallway outside was dark except for emergency lighting.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
She unlocked the door slowly and pulled it open.
No one there.
Just darkness.
And a single black box sitting on the floor outside Room 314.
Bianca appeared behind her wrapped in a towel.
“Oh hell no.”
Anastasia bent slightly, picking up the box.
Small.
Lightweight.
No note.
No name.
She opened it carefully.
And froze.
Inside was a silver lighter.
Elegant. Expensive.
Engraved with one symbol:
M.
Anastasia stared at it silently.
Because she had seen that lighter before.
In Zane Moretti’s hand.
At the party.
And suddenly—
for the first time—
she didn’t know if Zane was the warning…
or the thing she was supposed to be warned about.
- Writer
