"Yo, Caleb!" Dash's familiar voice called out from across the parking lot, loud enough to turn heads and make me wonder if he was auditioning for a role in some sitcom show.
I looked up and immediately spotted him lounging against the rusted school fence like he owned the place, phone in hand, that same stupid, troublemaking grin already locked and loaded. I couldn't help but smile back—pure muscle memory at this point.
We met halfway and did our usual dap, the kind we'd been perfecting for years to the point where it probably looked choreographed to outsiders, which, honestly, it kind of was.
"Did you finish playing Elden Ring?" he asked as we started walking, casual like he wasn't about to derail my entire morning.
"Of course," I said, grinning. "I'm not maidenless anymore."
That should've been the end of it.
A normal conversation.
A safe conversation.
But Dash, unfortunately, is not a normal person.
"So among the maidens you met," he said, turning his head toward me with way too much interest for 7 in the morning, "who would you like to fuck?"
I stopped walking just to glare at him properly. "Dude, what the hell is wrong with you? It's barely morning. Did you not get enough sleep or did you just wake up like this?"
He chuckled like I'd just complimented him. "I definitely nutted before sleeping but thinking about them again? Man…" He shook his head, impressed with himself. "It makes me hard."
I furrowed my brow and started to back away, feeling like I'd entered some kind of weird, inappropriate zone I didn't sign up for.
'What's wrong with him today? Did he eat something expired? Was this a medical condition?' I wondered, instinctively taking a step back.
Before I could create a safe distance between me and whatever was happening to him, he hooked his arm around my neck and dragged me back like a hostage.
"I know what you're thinking," he said with a grin. "So, just answer the question."
"Ranni," I said immediately, because survival instincts kicked in and I wanted this conversation over as fast as possible. Also, I hated that I already had an answer ready. What does that say about me?
"Ranni?" He pulled back just enough to look at me like I'd personally offended him. "Dude, no way. Malenia is where it's at. She's hot as hell!" He gestured so aggressively his phone nearly flew out of his hand, which would've been the only good thing to come out of this conversation.
"You do know she'd probably rot your dick off, right?" I pointed out, trying to keep a straight face. "Like, that's not even metaphorical."
"Eh, still worth it," he replied, shrugging like he wasn't contemplating some kind of divine punishment.
I snorted. "I didn't think you were a masochist."
He grinned wider. "Everyone becomes a masochist for the person they love. It's practically science," he said, nodding like he'd just dropped the most profound statement of the century. "So, why did you pick Ranni?"
"She's got that dark, mysterious vibe," I said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. "Plus... she's got four arms.
He raised an eyebrow.
I sighed, already regretting my life choices.
"Look, hypothetically speaking, she could be patting my head, jerking me off, and I don't even know what the hell else—probably some crazy shit I'd never even think of." I paused, because honestly, that last part sounded even worse out loud. "I mean, only I'd know what her other two hands would do to me."
"Finger up your ass too," he added immediately, nodding like he'd just solved world hunger. "That would be sick, right?"
I cleared my throat a little too loudly, mostly because he'd said exactly what I was definitely thinking and I hated that for me.
"What? No, I didn't say—" I started, ready to defend my dignity like it still existed.
And that's when everything went wrong.
My vision blurred out of nowhere, like someone had smudged the entire world with petroleum jelly.
The noise around us—the chatter, the footsteps, the usual morning chaos—faded into this weird, distant hum, like I'd suddenly been dropped underwater.
Even my own voice just… died.
One second I was talking, the next it felt like my words got stuck somewhere between my lungs and my pride.
The straps of my backpack dug into my shoulders, suddenly ten times heavier, like I'd been carrying bricks this whole time and only just noticed.
"Yo… Caleb?" Dash's voice shifted, confusion creeping in as he stopped walking.
I tried to answer.
I really did.
But my body had already filed for resignation.
My knees gave out, my balance followed, and before I could even process what was happening, I was introduced—very aggressively—to the hard concrete.
Thud!
Not graceful.
Not cinematic.
Just… embarrassing.
So embarassing that I wanted the ground to swallow me.
Everything went fuzzy for a second, like my brain was buffering. I could vaguely hear Dash again, but it sounded like he was standing on the other side of a tunnel.
"You still alive?"
I lay there, face probably pressed against the dirtiest part of the parking lot, wondering if my nose was bleeding, if my head was bleeding, or if I had just died mid-conversation about fictional women.
And honestly? The worst part wasn't even the fall.
It was the fact that this idiot—this absolute bastard— looked at me—face-down on the ground, clearly not thriving—and had the audacity that that was the appropriate question to ask.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
When my senses finally crawled back online, I found myself staring straight up at a blindingly white ceiling, blinking like I'd just been reborn against fluorescent lighting.
The air smelled aggressively clean—like alcohol, antiseptic, and bad decisions—and it didn't take long to realize I was lying on one of those stiff clinic beds that felt like they were designed to punish you for getting injured in the first place.
I turned my head slowly, taking in the room.
I was at the clinic.
Well… thank God that idiot at least had enough brain cells left to drag my unconscious body here.
But what even happened?
I tried to rewind my memory, but it slipped through my fingers like smoke for half a second, then gone.
My head throbbed in protest as I pushed myself up slightly, one hand clutching my temple like that would magically force my brain to cooperate.
I remembered walking, then talking with Dash.
Right.
And then—
'Wait.'
A very important, deeply unnecessary thought surfaced first.
'Does Dash like to have fingers up his ass?'
I paused, staring into space, seriously considering it despite the current situation. 'I mean… I guess I won't kink shame him We all have weird kinks hidden deep in our minds anyway.'
"Finally awake, huh?"
I blinked, squinting toward the source as I propped myself up on my elbows.
By the door stood a girl I'd never seen before—fiery red hair, the kind that looked like it refused to behave, and sharp grey eyes locked onto me like I personally offended her just by existing.
She wasn't relaxed,not even a little. If anything, she looked… tense.
Before I could even process that, she reached behind her.
Click.
She locked the door.
…Okay.
That was new.
I glanced around instinctively, suddenly very aware that the school nurse was nowhere in sight, and somehow this girl—who looked like she could either save my life or end it—was the one standing between me and the exit.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice coming out rough and dry.
She didn't hesitate.
"The name's Scarlett Everest," she said, curt and direct, her eyes never leaving mine.
And there was something in that stare—something intense, almost desperate—that sent a quiet, unwelcome shiver down my spine.
"Okay…" I pushed myself upright, rubbing the back of my neck like that might somehow reset whatever cursed timeline I'd woken up into. "So why did you lock the door?"
'I'm starting to get seriously creeped out by this woman,' I thought, my eyes already scanning the room for exits, weapons, divine intervention—anything.
She didn't answer.
Instead, she walked straight towards me.
And just like that, every survival instinct I'd apparently forgotten earlier came rushing back all at once.
My heartbeat picked up immediately, slamming against my ribs like it was trying to escape first. Every instinct in my body lit up at once, screaming that something was very wrong.
She stopped right beside my bed.
Close.
Way too close.
"Wha—" I started, but the words died instantly the moment my eyes dropped to her hand.
Knife.
She was holding a knife.
My body reacted before my brain could catch up—I jerked back hard, pressing myself against the headboard like I could phase through it if I tried hard enough.
Spoiler: I could not.
Oh. Great.
Amazing.
Fantastic.
How did the guard didn't notice that one of the students have a weapon hidden in their bag before letting them in?
Scarlett leaned in, the blade hovering dangerously close to my throat. Her eyes were wild and unsteady, like she was running on something stronger than meth.
"Don't make a sound," she whispered, her voice low and tight, like it was being held together by pure willpower. "I am going to rape you."
"…"