Knock. Knock. Knock.
I groaned into the pillow, half-conscious, fully unwilling to move.
Another knock — louder this time, sharp enough to make my skull vibrate.
I pried one eye open. The room was dim, sunlight creeping lazily through the blinds, painting thin stripes across the floor. My mouth felt like sandpaper; my limbs like they'd been glued to the mattress overnight.
"Bella…?" I mumbled before my brain caught up.
A pause.
Then a familiar voice, but not hers.
"Uh… not unless Bella suddenly got taller, more handsome, and decided to wear Vans."
I blinked, scrambled upright, and winced as memories of last night slammed into me like a freight train. I stumbled to the door and cracked it open.
Skyler. Backpack slung casually over one shoulder, coffee cup in hand, one eyebrow arched like it needed its own zip code.
"You okay, man?" he asked, peering over the rim of his cup. "Did you seriously call me Bella?"
I rubbed the back of my neck. "I… might have. Thought you were someone else."
He leaned lazily on the doorframe, grinning like he already knew I was lying. "Someone who knocks on your door at seven-forty in the morning?"
I gave a small shrug. "Yeah. She's… persistent."
Sky raised both eyebrows now, suspicious. "Wait. Did you just say Bella?"
I froze.
He stepped fully into the hallway, folding his arms. "As in… Isabella Lopez? Tactical genius? Queen of cold stares? Actual urban legend? Somehow top of the chem lab rankings while barely talking to anyone else?"
I sighed, brushing it off. "Drop it, Sky."
"Oh, I will not," he said, a grin spreading wide. "Why the hell would you call me Bella? That's not a name you throw around casually. Especially when you two have… zero social overlap. That's like a corgi flirting with a falcon."
I narrowed my eyes. "Thanks for the metaphor. Really confidence-boosting."
He leaned further against the frame, unbothered. "You left the cafeteria with her yesterday, didn't you?"
I didn't answer.
Sky raised an eyebrow, slow and dramatic. "Dude. Everyone noticed. She was hunting something — or someone — and you followed her like it was nothing. Then you disappeared for the rest of the day. Where'd you go?"
I forced a neutral expression. "We had… something to handle."
He blinked. "Something top-secret and urgent involving disappearing from campus, ghosting everyone — including me?"
"I didn't ghost you."
"You left me mid-nugget," he reminded, horror-struck.
"I had business to handle."
"Business," he repeated, narrowing his eyes. "With Isabella freaking Lopez? You expect me to believe that?"
I shrugged and grabbed my backpack. "Believe whatever keeps you sane."
He followed me down the hall, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Tutoring? Blackmail? Something illegal? Did she threaten you? Blink twice if you're in danger."
I exhaled slowly. "I'm fine. No danger. No blackmail. Not failing chem."
He squinted. "Then what was it?"
I glanced at him, tired. "Just… a thing. Don't overthink it."
Skyler snorted, unimpressed. "You're the worst liar. Like, pathologically bad."
"I'm not lying," I muttered, shoving the stairwell door open. "You coming or not?"
"I'm coming. But we're not done," he said with a sly grin.
"Pretty sure we are."
"Nope. I'm gonna figure it out. And when I do? I want details. Every last one."
I rolled my eyes. Truth was… I didn't even have words for last night.
If he ever found out I'd flown a drone into a government-linked compound, staged a digital heist, and carried Isabella Lopez from a firefight… he'd probably combust.
The stairwell echoed with our footsteps, soft and sleepy, while Sky's voice jabbed at the quiet like three shots of espresso.
"She doesn't talk to anyone," he said. "Once told Nate in bio to shut up… using only eye contact. People still talk about it."
I grunted.
"She's a ghost. An apex predator in eyeliner. She exists on a separate plane. You, meanwhile, exist in a hoodie that smells like four kinds of ramen."
"I do laundry," I muttered.
"Sure you do," he shot back.
By the time we hit the main courtyard, the campus was alive with morning energy — students sprawled across benches, iced coffee in hand, earbuds in, balancing laptops, skateboards, and mid-morning chaos. Just another day.
Sky's gaze kept flicking to me. "Still not gonna tell me what happened after the cafeteria?"
"I told you. We talked."
"You disappeared for hours. And now you look like a low-budget lightning bolt hit you."
I ignored him.
He bumped my shoulder. "If you kissed her, just say it. I'll survive."
I shot him a flat look. "Nothing happened like that."
Sky froze mid-step, muttering, "Speak of the goddess…"
I followed his gaze.
Isabella Lopez. Walking through the courtyard like she hadn't almost bled out twelve hours ago. Hair tied back, oversized sweatshirt, black jeans, earbuds in. Calm, collected. Eyes scanning the crowd like a chessboard she already knew the last move to.
She moved like water, people parting without realizing it.
Sky whistled. "She's glowing. No makeup. What is she, part vampire?"
I said nothing. My chest tightened.
Half a second. Her gaze flicked toward me — sharp, deliberate. Then gone.
Sky turned to me, eyes wide. "Okay… what was that?"
"What?"
"That look. She looked at you… on purpose. That doesn't happen."
I shrugged. "Maybe she liked my hoodie."
"She looked like she was checking target coordinates before a strike."
"Don't be dramatic."
"You're right. I'm underreacting. Do I need a radiation test? Are you radioactive now?"
I groaned. "Can we just go to class?"
Sky muttered about 'casual eye contact and coded death stares,' but I tuned him out.
I kept my eyes forward as Sky rattled on, but my mind drifted — as it often did lately — back to last night.
The way she had moved behind me, wounded but still lethal. The way her hand had lingered in my pocket when she slipped the spare ammo clip out, her fingers brushing mine — warm, deliberate. A second that shouldn't have meant anything… but did.
I remembered the weight of it, the closeness, the faint press of her chest against my arm as she pulled back. My body had stiffened even as my mind tried to pretend it was just part of the mission. It wasn't. Not entirely.
I shook my head, blinking. Focus. Skyler's voice snapped me back.
"You disappeared for hours. And now you look like a low-budget lightning bolt hit you!"
I forced a neutral shrug, but inside, that memory burned — that single, impossibly precise touch, her calm in chaos, and the way she had made even something as mundane as handing me an ammo clip feel like… something else.
Skyler didn't know. He couldn't know.
And if I let myself think too much about it now, I'd probably explode in a mixture of dread and… something else entirely.