ARIA
“Excuse me… I— I need to go to the library,” I blurted, my voice softer than I intended. I didn’t wait for a response. I just walked away, fast, before anyone could see the panic rising in my chest.
My palms were sweaty, my thoughts scattered, and all I could think was—I had to get out of there.
I headed straight to the library afterward—it was break time anyway.
The library was almost empty, just the way I liked it. The hum of the old fluorescent lights and the faint smell of paper always soothed me—a little peace from the chaos of the hallways.
Especially now that Adrian wanted something in return.
What would he even ask for? I didn’t think he’d actually take advantage of this… but a part of me didn’t trust him either. He had that look—the kind that said he knew exactly how much power he had over me. And the worst part? I’d given it to him.
I hated myself for that. For the mistake. For being careless enough to let it happen in the first place.
I didn’t know what to do anymore. My thoughts wouldn’t stop spinning, and the walls felt too close. So I did what I always did—I kept my head down and busied myself with shelving a stack of history books, pretending everything was fine.
That was when someone came out of nowhere.
My stomach sank before I even turned around.
Adrian Cole.
He moved with the easy arrogance of someone who knew every eye in the school followed him—except mine, apparently, which only made him more determined to insert himself into my life. He leaned against the nearest shelf, blocking my way like he owned the place.
I stiffened. “If this is another bathroom invasion, you’re lost. The football field is two hallways down.”
A smirk tugged at his lips. “Relax, Bookie. I came to talk.”
“Bookie?” I repeated, frowning.
“My nickname for you. That’s all you do, isn’t it? Read.”
“Then talk,” I said flatly. “What do you want this time?”
He sighed dramatically. “I need a tutor. I’m failing history. If I don’t pull my grade up before finals, Coach benches me. No team captain, no state championship, no scholarship. No scholarship…” His eyes narrowed slightly. “No future.”
I hugged the books tighter to my chest, pulse quickening. “And you expect me to care… why?”
“Because,” he said smoothly, pulling out his phone and flicking his thumb across the screen, “you care about this.”
My blood went cold. Even without seeing the screen, I knew what he was dangling. That photo.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” His voice dropped lower, less teasing now. “Tutor me until finals. Once it’s over, you can delete it yourself. No tricks. No copies.”
I stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or slap him. “You need a tutor? Really?”
He smirked. “What, surprised I’m asking you?”
“Last I checked,” I said, tilting my head, “Mr. Xavier is still doing a good job.”
For a moment, the grin on his face slipped. Just slightly. Then he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Careful, Bookie. That mouth of yours could get you in trouble.”
“Guess I’ll take my chances,” I said under my breath, turning away.
His tone softened, though his eyes didn’t. “I’m serious. Help me, and you get what you want. That’s the deal.”
I hesitated, then asked quietly, “And Cassie? She’s going to be fine with this?”
He didn’t even blink. “Don’t worry about her.”
But I did. I’d seen the way Cassie looked at me earlier—sharp, questioning, a warning hidden behind that fake smile. “Sure this is going to be cool?” I muttered. “Because she didn’t look too happy the last time.”
“She’ll get over it,” he said simply, voice calm but eyes unreadable.
Before she would start again, I needed this photo gone—and this arrogant, rude boy wouldn’t give it to me unless I did what he asked.
My hands trembled against the stack of books. My voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “That’s blackmail.”
“It’s business,” he countered, casual as ever. “I need to pass. You need this photo gone. Seems like a fair trade.”
Anger flickered through my fear like sparks against dry paper. “You’re unbelievable. You think the whole world exists to revolve around you. Arrogant doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“Better than being a hermit genius who hides in the library because she’s too scared to talk to real people,” he shot back, his tone calm but his eyes sharp, watching how every word hit me.
The insult stung more than I wanted to admit. My chest tightened, and for a second, I hated that he could make me feel so small.
“Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll do it. But only until finals. After that, you hand me your phone, I delete the photo, and we go back to pretending the other doesn’t exist.”
His grin widened, slow and satisfied. “Deal.”
“One more thing,” I said quickly. “No one can know. Not Brielle. Not your friends. No one.”
He raised a brow, clearly amused by my attempt to set rules with him. “Our dirty little secret,” he drawled. “I can live with that.”
I shoved past him, my pulse racing so fast it hurt. I just needed to breathe, to get away from him, from his smirk, from everything he made me feel—angry, nervous, seen. But then I caught it.
The faint glint in his eyes.
It wasn’t normal.
For a heartbeat, they weren’t brown anymore—they were gold. Not just gold… glowing. Like fire caught in glass, like light trapped beneath water, flickering and alive. It wasn’t the reflection from the lights, it couldn’t be. It felt like the world had stopped moving, and all I could do was stare.
And then, just as fast, it was gone.
He blinked, and everything was back to normal—Adrian smirking like nothing had happened, voice low and too calm. “See you tomorrow, Bookie.”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.
I just stood there, hugging the books so tightly they dug into my ribs, listening to his footsteps fade down the hall. My throat felt tight, my palms sweaty, and even though the air around me was warm, I couldn’t stop shaking.
“it should be fluorescent lights,” I whispered, trying to convince myself. My voice cracked.
But it didn’t feel like the truth.
Because no matter how hard I tried to explain it away, I knew what I saw—something wild, something not human—something that was watching me just as closely as I was trying not to watch him.
And that terrified me more than anything.