When star falls

THE NEW GUY

CHAPTER TWO – THE NEW GUY

By morning, the stars were gone, the fog had lifted, and the night before felt like a half-remembered dream. But I still couldn’t shake the image of him—his eyes, the way he vanished into the woods, the silence he left behind like a secret waiting to be spoken.

I told myself I imagined it. That the cold air and the fight at home had scrambled my brain. That it had just been a kid messing around, or maybe a hiker, or someone looking for help and then changing their mind. But none of those answers sat right.

Neither did the silence at the breakfast table. Mom barely looked at me as I ate a granola bar and drank orange juice straight from the carton. She sat with a cup of coffee cradled in both hands, her face pale, the shadows under her eyes darker than usual. Her wedding ring was off.

Again.

“Dad coming back today?” I asked, keeping my voice neutral. Her eyes flicked to me. “He’ll be back when he’s ready.” Which meant no one had any idea. I grabbed my bag and headed out without another word.

Hollow High looked the same as always—low red brick buildings with fog-stained windows, students clustered like migrating birds under the eaves, and the smell of cafeteria grease lingering in the air even at 8 a.m. I passed lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking, voices rising and falling in familiar patterns. The world kept turning, even if mine felt slightly off its axis. I stopped by my locker and was about to grab my books when I felt it. A shift. Like the air changed pressure. Like the hallway got quieter.

And then I saw him. He was standing near the office—tall, dark-haired, wearing a plain black hoodie and ripped jeans, like he’d stepped out of a grayscale version of reality. And yet, he was the brightest thing in the hall. It was him. The boy from the road. My heart stuttered. As if sensing me, he turned. His eyes locked with mine across the hallway. Recognition sparked—too fast, too precise. He knew who I was. He remembered. And he wasn’t pretending otherwise. Before I could move, a voice pierced the air.

“Yo, did you see the new guy?” Rachel Miller slid up beside me, wide-eyed and grinning. “Came in this morning. Nobody knows where he’s from. Like, seriously. No files. No Insta. Total blackout. Which is either creepy or hot depending on your trauma level.”

“I…” I started, eyes still fixed on him. “What’s his name?”

“Leo Hale,” she said, smirking. “Sounds like a book boyfriend.” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

Because he was walking straight toward me. He stopped two feet away. “You drive a silver SUV,” he said. His voice was low, even. Not cold—but contained, like he was holding something back. Rachel blinked. “Okay, bold opener. Not creepy at all.” I ignored her.

“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I do.”

He studied me, his expression unreadable. “You should be more careful. Some roads don’t like to be disturbed.” That made my skin prickle.

Rachel laughed awkwardly. “Okay, mood. Let’s unpack that later. Maybe during homeroom?”

Leo didn’t react. He just looked at me one last time, nodded slightly—like we’d had a whole conversation—and then walked off.

Rachel turned to me, mouth open. “What the hell was that? Did you guys… do you know him?”

I shook my head. “Not really.” But that wasn’t true. Not really didn’t cover the way time bent around him. Not really didn’t explain why my pulse spiked when he looked at me, or why I suddenly couldn’t remember the last time I’d been that afraid—and that curious—at once.

By fourth period, Leo had become a myth. Rumors swirled like wildfire. He was a foster kid. He was a runaway. He had a criminal record, or a famous family, or maybe he used to live in a commune. Nobody knew. Nobody could find anything online. No social media. No photos. No paper trail. I found myself glancing over at him more than once. And each time, I caught him doing the same. It wasn’t subtle. He didn’t flirt. He didn’t talk much. He didn’t hang with anyone. But he noticed everything.

Like during chemistry, when Ava dropped her pencil and he caught it before it hit the ground—even though he was five feet away. Or when Mr. Granger handed back tests and Leo somehow had the right answer to a question we hadn’t even covered yet.

And then there was lunch. I sat with Rachel, Nate, and Jen, poking at soggy fries while they debated whether Leo was a vampire or just European. I was trying to tune them out when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I turned. He was sitting under the old maple tree on the far side of the courtyard. Alone. Not eating. Just… watching. Not in a weird way. Not even in a creepy way. Just intensely. Like he was waiting for something. Or someone. I looked away quickly.

“What’s up with you?” Rachel asked. “You’ve been twitchy all day.”

“Didn’t sleep well,” I mumbled.

“Because of Leo Hale and his eyes-from-a-novel face?”

I forced a smile. “Maybe.”

But it wasn’t just him. It was everything. The fog. The falling star. The sound I heard last night outside my window. The way my mom didn’t meet my eyes this morning. The way my dog, Toby, had refused to go near the woods behind our house when I let him out. Something was… off. And Leo Hale had stepped right into the middle of it.

After school, I waited by the bike racks. Rachel was still in yearbook club, and I wasn’t ready to go home yet. I watched students scatter across the lot. I watched Leo, too, as he walked alone toward the tree line behind the football field where the woods began.

I don’t know what made me follow him. Curiosity, maybe. Or the feeling that he was a thread and if I pulled it, everything might unravel

He moved quickly, but not like someone in a hurry. More like someone who knew where they were going. Like he belonged. I trailed him at a distance until we were past the last portable and into the shadows of the trees. He stopped without turning.

“You’re not very subtle,” he said. My heart jumped.

“You knew I was here?”

“I knew you’d follow.”

He finally turned, facing me fully. His hoodie was pushed back, and in the filtered sunlight, his skin looked almost silver-edged. His eyes now definitely gray, not blue reflected the trees like glass.

“Why were you in the road last night?” I asked.

“I was looking for something.”

“What?”

His gaze flicked up to the sky. “A falling star.”

I stared at him. “You’re joking.”

“No.”

“You could’ve died.” “I couldn’t.” I frowned. “What does that mean?”

Leo tilted his head. “You ask a lot of questions for someone who doesn’t want answers. “I do want answers,” I said quickly. “I just don’t know what the questions are yet.” He smiled—just barely. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t cold. It was… sad. “You will,” he said. Then he turned and kept walking.I didn’t follow this time. Instead, I stood there, listening to the trees, to the strange stillness around me.

And I realized something. He wasn’t the only one with secrets. I had them too. My family had always been a little… off. Too close to the full moon. Too closed off during storms. My dad had scars he never explained. My mom once told me, “We’re not like other people, Maya,” but refused to say what she meant.

And now Leo Hale had appeared like a storm wrapped in skin and everything was shifting.

Again.