Kade navigated his way through the sea of students flooding the hallway, backpacks bumping shoulders as everyone scrambled to make it to class. He slipped into the room just before the bell finished ringing.
Almost immediately, a boisterous, deep voice cut through the chatter.
"Kade! Over here—we saved you a seat!"
A few heads turned. Then, realizing it was just Kade, the class collectively lost interest and returned to their conversations.
Kade sighed. Rex never did anything quietly.
He made his way toward the back, where Rex sat sprawled across his chair like he owned the place. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a square jaw, slicked-back brown hair, and easy blue eyes, Rex had the effortless, boy-next-door look of someone who'd never had to wonder where he stood socially.
Beside him sat Tina.
Even seated, it was obvious her body had been honed by years of intense training—lithe, athletic, controlled. Her blonde hair framed a soft, round face sharpened by dark eyeliner and focused eyes. Captain of the volleyball team. Popular without trying. The kind of girl teachers liked and classmates gravitated toward.
Together, the three of them made for a strange picture.
A tall guy who looked like he should be a linebacker. A picture-perfect blonde who could've stepped out of a magazine. And an African American kid with unsettling green eyes that never quite fit in anywhere.
Definitely not your average friend group.
Kade wouldn't trade them for anything.
They'd been there for him when he had no friends, no confidence, and no real sense of belonging. That wasn't something he forgot easily.
He dropped into the seat between them, bumping fists with Tina and exchanging a solid high five with Rex. Only then did he notice it—Tina was quieter than usual. Less animated. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
Probably stress, he told himself, making a mental note to ask later.
Rex leaned in from the side, crowding Kade's personal space the way he always did.
"Bro," he said, grinning, "you missed our nightly video call. What's up with that? You never miss it."
Tina glanced over too, one eyebrow lifting in silent agreement.
They were right. He never missed it.
Luckily, he already had a lie lined up.
"Oh yeah," Kade said, rubbing the back of his neck. "My dad insisted on going over my history notes with me all night. You know how he is—anything less than an A in the subject he teaches is basically a crime."
He realized belatedly that he'd lifted the excuse straight from his dad's playbook that morning. The thought sat wrong in his stomach—he was becoming smooth, becoming hidden, becoming his father in ways he hadn't chosen.
He really wasn't great at lying. Maybe he should ask his dad for lessons.
Rex snorted. "Yeah, your dad's pretty hardcore when it comes to history."
Tina nodded faintly.
Kade blinked.
She still hadn't said a word.
That was… unusual. Tina was usually the most animated one at the table. Always had something to say. Always quick with a comment or a joke.
Just as Kade was about to bring it up, Rex spoke again.
"And also," he added, squinting, "are you wearing contact lenses or something? Why do your eyes look creepier than usual?"
He laughed and turned to Tina. "Yo, check this out. Look at his eyes."
Rex reached over and tilted Kade's head slightly, inspecting him like some kind of exhibit. Kade was about to protest when Tina leaned in as well.
For a split second, Kade thought he heard her heartbeat hitch.
He frowned internally.
Wait… does she have a crush on Rex?
The thought came unbidden, but it made a strange kind of sense. If she did, who could blame her? Rex was good-looking, confident, and had always been charismatic in that effortless way.
Tina leaned closer, studying his eyes from different angles. But Kade noticed something now that he wouldn't have before—her breathing was too controlled. Deliberate. The way someone held themselves when they were afraid of making a sound. Rex's hand rested on Kade's shoulder, but his eyes were on Tina. Watching her. Waiting for something.
"Could you guys knock it off?" Kade said, pulling back. "I just started getting some quality sleep, that's all."
It was complete bullshit.
They accepted it instantly.
"Oh," Rex said. "That makes sense."
Tina nodded again, leaning back into her seat. But she didn't relax. Kade could see it in the set of her shoulders, the careful way she held her spine. She sat like someone waiting for a signal to change position.
Kade felt a flicker of unease.
He knew the Veil was at work—smoothing things over, encouraging normal explanations, making his flimsy excuse easier to swallow. He should have been grateful for it.
Instead, he felt something closer to nausea. He was watching his friends become strangers for a moment, watching them nod along to lies because something in the world made it easier to believe than to question. He had done this to them. His changed eyes, his changed self, had forced this moment, and the Veil had cleaned up after him like he was a mess to be hidden.
He told himself he was overthinking things.
After everything that had happened, that was probably the safest assumption.
Three gruelling periods later, the bell rang for lunch.
Students poured out of classrooms in a noisy tide, voices overlapping as they headed for the cafeteria in hopes of claiming decent seats. Kade remained slumped in his chair for a moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
He was good at school. That didn't mean he liked it.
Truthfully, he found most of it boring. Today, though, it had been worse than usual. Concentrating felt nearly impossible. His dad hadn't exactly given him a beginner's guide on how to turn off enhanced senses or strength, and the results had been… noticeable.
He'd snapped three pens in half without meaning to—earning a curious glance from Tina and an amused snort from Rex. At one point, a bird screeching somewhere far outside campus had nearly deafened him. A mile away, maybe more. The sound had hit him like it was right beside his ear.
He was exhausted.
Kade glanced over at his friends.
Rex was slumped over his desk, snoring lightly. Loud enough that a few nearby students had turned to stare. None of the teachers bothered anymore. Rex always pulled solid grades, no matter how little attention he seemed to pay.
Tina, by contrast, sat perfectly straight in her chair, diligently writing in her notebook. Probably class notes. She was like that—organized, focused, disciplined. With his heightened senses, Kade could've easily glanced at what she was writing.
He didn't.
The way she angled the notebook made it clear she didn't want anyone looking, and Kade wasn't about to invade her privacy.
Instead, he smacked Rex upside the head.
He used far more strength than intended.
Rex nearly toppled out of his seat with a startled yelp. "What the hell, man?!"
"Lunch," Kade said quickly, holding up his hands. "Bell already rang."
That seemed to mollify him.
Kade gestured toward Tina, and the three of them packed up their things and joined the flow of students heading toward the cafeteria.
Thanks to Rex and Tina's popularity, there was an unspoken rule about one particular table. No one sat there. Ever. It was less reservation and more mutual understanding.
Kade enjoyed the perk immensely.
They grabbed food from the lunch line—whatever looked passable that day—and made their way over. The cafeteria buzzed with noise, but no one paid them any particular attention as they sat down.
Kade took his usual spot. Rex dropped into the seat across from him.
Tina hesitated.
She stood there for a second longer than usual, tray balanced carefully in her hands, eyes flicking between the two open seats. Kade noticed immediately. Tina was never indecisive.
How bad is this crush? he thought, suppressing a smile.
She looked oddly serious about the decision, lips pressed together, brow faintly furrowed. When Rex glanced up at her, her expression shifted—just for a moment. Something flickered across her face that Kade couldn't name. Not shyness. Something closer to… a calculation of distance. Like she was measuring how far she could get before a leash went taut.
Then she moved.
Tina slid into the seat beside Rex.
Kade caught it. Chuckled quietly to himself.
Oh yeah, he thought. He knows too.
They ate in comfortable silence, the kind that came naturally after years of friendship.
Then Rex broke it.
"Hey," he said casually, "we should have a sleepover tonight. Feels like forever since we've hung out like that, right?"
He turned to Tina. "What do you think?"
Tina nodded almost before he finished the sentence. Too fast. The kind of automatic response that came from practice, not enthusiasm.
Kade felt it again—her heartbeat jumping. But this time he noticed something else beneath it. The jump wasn't excitement. It was too sharp, too sudden, like a startle response. Like someone had touched a live wire to her skin. And beneath that, a chemical signal his new senses couldn't quite name. Sharp. Sour. The body preparing for a threat that hadn't arrived yet.
He filed it away. Another data point for the "crush" theory.
Rex turned toward him. "You in?"
"Yeah," Kade said easily. "We could do it at my place. My dad minds his business, my mom loves you guys, and there's plenty of space."
Rex pumped his fist. "Sweet. Tonight, at your place."
Tina nodded again, her cheeks flushed now, eyes bright. She looked like she was trying—and failing—not to react. But Kade saw the tightness at the corners of her smile, the way her hands stayed busy folding and refolding her napkin.
Kade smiled.
Then he noticed Rex's hand disappear beneath the table.
Tina went very still.
Not the stillness of a held breath. The stillness of someone who had learned that movement drew attention. Kade watched her eyes track downward, then forward, fixing on some point across the cafeteria with deliberate blankness.
Oh. So, it's like that, he thought.
The realization didn't bother him. If anything, it made him happy for them. Rex and Tina were two of the best people he knew. If they'd found something together, he was all for it.
He finished his food quickly and made a half-hearted excuse about needing to check something before next period, giving them space.
Rex grinned.
Tina's face grew even redder.
Kade didn't think much more about it as he walked away.
Gym class was the last thing standing between Kade and the end of the school day.
Normally, he wasn't bad at it. Not especially athletic, but not out of shape either. The problem had never been performance—it was attention. Being one of the only African Americans in the school already made him noticeable. Add in his green eyes, and standing out felt unavoidable.
Before, that had always made him hesitate.
Lately, that hesitation was slipping.
He could feel it happening, piece by piece. And when it was fully gone… even Kade didn't know what version of himself would be left.
The coach called for a few laps around the field. Something Kade would usually find a way to dodge.
Today, he didn't.
He stepped forward without thinking, doing a quick warm-up. The coach shot him an approving look. Kade returned it with an awkward smile and took off.
He didn't go all out. He knew better than that.
Still, even at a steady pace, he was covering far more ground than he should have. He felt light—too light. The air moved past him differently. A few students glanced over as he ran, surprise flickering across their faces.
As he rounded the field, his gaze drifted.
Tina was on the far side with the rest of the girls where they were playing volleyball, completely in her element. Her movements were seamless, every jump and pivot refined by years of training. Sweat clung to her gym clothes, outlining the lean strength beneath. Her face was flushed from exertion, eyes sharp and focused.
She looked… incredible.
The thought surfaced before he could stop it, and Kade jerked his gaze away, stomach twisting.
Tina was practically his sister. That was all there was to it. The thought didn't linger—unlike the way some of the other guys stared openly, barely pretending not to drool.
But it had surfaced. And it felt wrong, not in the way of a forbidden thought, but in the way of a planted one. Like someone had whispered it into his ear and he'd mistaken it for his own voice.
He shook his head, trying to clear it.
He finished his laps, dodging the coach's questions about his "sudden perfect form" with vague answers, and scanned the field for Rex.
He found him easily.
Rex was leaning in the shade beside one of the buildings, arms crossed, completely uninterested in participating. That wasn't new. What was new was the way he was watching Tina.
Not casual. Not admiring.
Hungry.
The look sent a cold spike through Kade's chest. Not unease—something older, something that made his hands curl into fists without his permission. The Ala in him stirred, a low current rising in response to whatever he was seeing.
He forced himself to look away.
Jeez, bro. Rein it in, he thought, half-amused, half-unsettled.
But the image stayed with him. Rex's face in shadow, the angle of his jaw, the stillness of his body. It wasn't the look of a boy watching a girl he liked. It was the look of someone watching something that belonged to him. Something that had cost him. Something he was still collecting on.
Kade filed it away like he'd been doing all day—another data point, another observation added to a picture he hadn't quite finished assembling yet. He made a mental note to tell Rex to tone it down later. Someone catching him looking like that could get the wrong idea.
Of course, no one else would've noticed.
Rex was deep in the shade. And Kade was the only one who could see that clearly from this distance.
The thought should have felt like a boast. Instead, it felt like a wall going up between him and everyone else. He was seeing things no one else could see, and no one could confirm what he saw. He was alone in his own perception, and the isolation of it settled over him like a second skin.
After the laps ended and most of the class collapsed in dramatic exhaustion, the girls wrapped up their match—Tina's team winning, to the surprise of exactly no one. With Tina on your side, it was practically a guaranteed outcome.
The coach finally dismissed them.
Students poured out toward the exit in loose groups, eager to be done for the day.
Kade walked with Rex and Tina, the three of them falling into step like they always had.
Outside the school gates, Rex clapped Kade on the shoulder.
"Alright, bro. See you tonight. Make sure you get the good chips—none of that low-fat stuff your mom always has lying around."
Kade laughed. "Noted."
"Bye, Kade," Tina said suddenly. "See you tonight."
The sound of her voice startled him.
He realized he hadn't heard much from her all day.
He smiled and pulled her into a quick side hug. Her body went a little stiff in his arms—not the stiff of nerves, but the stiff of someone bracing for impact. Like she was waiting for him to do something, and the waiting was its own tension. Like she was holding her breath until he let go.
He released her easily, waving them both off as they headed in the opposite direction.
Kade turned toward home, already thinking about the sleepover.
Junk food. Games. Normal stuff.
But the word normal felt heavier than it should. He was bringing something into his house tonight—something changed, something that saw too much and understood too little. And somewhere in the space between his friends' easy laughter and the wrongness he'd been filing away all day, something was going to tip.
He didn't know which way.