Dashley was the first to break eye contact as Celine tugged her toward their next class. Still, her mind lingered. There was something about that boy—something strange. Every time their paths crossed, an invisible thread seemed to pull at her, tightening around her thoughts until it hurt. She pushed the feeling aside before it gave her a headache.
The remaining classes flew by quickly, and when the bell rang for lunch, Celine suggested they head to the cafeteria. They joined the line, chatting casually as they grabbed their trays. When it came time to find a table, Dashley pointed to one by the window.
"I like sitting by the window," she said with a soft smile. "Always have."
"No problem," Celine said easily, and they made their way over.
As they ate, Celine began to fill Dashley in on the inner workings of the school—the social hierarchy, the drama, the rumors.
"Like every high school, we've got the 'populars,'" she said, lowering her voice. "But it's not just their looks or grades. There's something else about them. A presence. Like they're not... normal."
Dashley listened intently, though her eyes occasionally drifted across the room. Her attention sharpened when a group of students walked in—the same group she had seen the night before at the restaurant. The boy from before entered last.
Celine noticed where Dashley was looking and leaned closer. "That's them."
She pointed subtly. "The one with dirty blond hair and icy blue eyes? That's Jace. Total flirt, but surprisingly sweet when he's not being a disaster. Next to him is Axel—he's the moody one. Keeps to himself. Brunette, lean build, always looks like he's about to start a fight."
Then her gaze shifted.
"And that is Kellan. He's basically their leader. Six-three, dark hair, storm-grey eyes. He doesn't talk much, but when he does... people listen."
Dashley nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on Kellan.
"The two girls with them are Molly and Lisa," Celine added, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Word is, Kellan and Molly are getting engaged soon. Family arrangement or something."
The name clicked. Kellan. So that was the mysterious boy she'd locked eyes with—twice now. Oddly enough, he hadn't glanced her way this time, likely too occupied by Molly, who was clearly clinging to him. Again.
After lunch, Dashley and Celine parted ways. Dashley arrived early to her next class, only a few students already seated. She chose a desk and pulled out her sketchbook, idly doodling to pass the time.
By the end of the school day, she reunited with Celine at their planned spot. Celine offered to give her a ride home, but Dashley declined, opting for the bus instead.
When she got home, the house was quiet. She took a quick shower and remembered the library she'd promised herself she'd find. Fortunately, there was one—though it wasn't exactly nearby. She made her way there on foot, curious and hopeful.
Inside, the scent of paper and old wood filled her lungs. She wandered through the shelves, trailing her fingers along the spines until her gaze landed on a familiar figure: Axel.
Didn't take him for the reading type, she thought.
Gathering her courage, she stepped closer.
"Hi," she said shyly.
Axel turned, looked her over once, then promptly turned back to the shelf without a word.
"Um, I'm new around here," she continued. "I saw you at school today. I'm Dashley."
"Move along, kid," he muttered.
"You're not that much older than me," she said, folding her arms.
No response.
"Not big on small talk, huh?" she added, already starting to turn away.
"Wait," he said suddenly.
She paused.
He stepped closer, leaned in, and—sniffed her.
"What the hell?! Are you sniffing me?" she blurted, stepping back.
Unfazed, Axel scanned her again, this time more slowly. His brow furrowed.
"You smell... weird," he said flatly.
"Oh yeah? And you smell like a jerk," she shot back.
"What are you?" he asked, tone shifting from rude to curious.
Dashley blinked. "What do you think I am? A cat?"
She turned and stormed off, grabbing the nearest book and heading for the checkout desk, muttering under her breath. Weird guy.
By the time she got home, the sun had dipped below the horizon. She headed straight to the kitchen to prepare dinner. A little while later, Williams returned.
"Hey, Dad," she greeted, setting the table.
"Hey, Dashley," he said, rubbing his temples, clearly exhausted.
"Rough day?"
"You could say that."
"Go shower. Dinner's ready." He nodded and shuffled off
When he was out again, Dashley was almost halfway through her food. Williams asked her about school, and she explained how she met Celine and how they had just clicked immediately. She also told him about what happened at the library and how Axel had told her that she smelled funny.
At the mention of that, Williams froze mid-bite.
"Funny?" he repeated slowly, carefully setting his fork down.
"Yeah. He was so weird about it too—sniffing me, then saying I smelled off or something," Dashley said with a light laugh, shaking her head.
But Williams wasn't laughing. His brows furrowed as his eyes darkened—like something had just confirmed a fear he'd kept buried.
"Did he touch you? Get too close?" he asked, his voice low and tense.
"No, not really. He was just...rude. And dramatic," she replied, still unaware of his growing concern.
Williams exhaled sharply and ran a hand down his face. Then, as if remembering something urgent, he looked at her with sudden intensity.
"Where's the pendant necklace I always told you to put on?"
"Oh, I pulled it off the moment I got home."
"I've told you, Dashley—don't pull it off," Williams said, his tone sharper now, more commanding.
"It's just a necklace, Dad," she whined, rolling her eyes.
"Go put it back on. Now," he said, this time with a force that made her pause.
Dashley huffed but got up and headed to her room, clearly irritated by his obsession with the necklace. He had given it to her some weeks after her mum left and warned her not to take it off. Although she had on a few occasions—which always sparked this same strange behavior from her dad.
Unknown to her, as she walked away, Williams leaned back in his chair and exhaled deeply, eyes narrowed toward the hallway. The grip on his fork tightened as he whispered almost inaudibly:
"They're around this town and is starting to sense her... I've made a mistake by coming here..."
He shook his head. He had made a promise to his wife—to protect their daughter at any cost. And if that meant shielding Dashley from truths she wasn't ready to hear yet, so be it.