Kael's:
By the second week, it wasn't just my friends at lunch who noticed.
It was the teachers who smiled more when I spoke. The kids from other classes who waved at me in the hallway. Even the seniors, usually untouchable in their own cliques, gave me that subtle nod of acknowledgment, the one that meant, yeah, we see you.
But it wasn't because I tried. It was because I stopped trying.
"Yo, Kael!" Jacob called one morning, jogging up to me with his eternal grin. He was the type who thought everything was funny even the things that weren't. But somehow, he made it work. "Tell me you're on my team for gym today. I can't carry these weaklings alone."
"I'm not sure about that," I shot back, adjusting my bag. "I've seen your jump shot. It's criminal."
"Criminally smooth, you mean." He winked.
Before I could answer, Maya slid in from nowhere, linking her arm with his. She was sharp-tongued, fearless, and had a habit of roasting Jacob into silence when he got too cocky. "Please, Kael, don't boost his ego. It's already spilling out of his ears."
That made me laugh, and soon, we were all laughing.
It became a pattern. Lunchtime debates over which superhero would actually win in a fight. After-school hangouts at the corner shop, where Jacob tried and failed to eat five chili dogs in one sitting. Group projects that ended with us sharing dumb memes instead of actually working.
And me? I was in the middle of it. Not at the edge, not hiding behind a shadow.
.....
One Friday, I was in the cafeteria when I noticed the ripple. It started small people glancing, whispering, nudging their friends. At first, I thought maybe I had food on my shirt. Then I realized they were looking at me.
Not in the way they used to, with that dismissive shrug or the faint look of pity. This was different. Curious. Respectful, even.
"Man," Jacob muttered beside me, shaking his head with mock irritation. "You're like a magnet. Everywhere we go, people stare. You some kind of secret prince or something?"
"Yeah," Maya added, smirking. "If he is, we're clearly the royal entourage. Bow down to Queen Maya."
"Queen of sass," I said, and she laughed, flicking her hair dramatically.
It was all in good fun, but beneath it, something stirred in me. The mark beneath my wrist the one I'd tried to ignore tingled faintly. A reminder. A whisper.
They're noticing because you were never meant to be invisible.
And That was when I saw her again.
She wasn't at the piano this time. She was at a table near the windows, surrounded by her own circle of friends. Aimee wasn't the loudest among them if anything, she seemed content to let others take the spotlight. But there was something about her presence that pulled eyes, mine included.
The way she listened, really listened, when someone else spoke. The way her laugh was light, unforced, like bells ringing in the sunlight. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was shy, only to surprise you with a sharp comment a moment later.
She didn't try to be noticed. She just was.
I caught myself staring, and quickly looked away, heat creeping up my neck.
Jacob noticed, of course. He always noticed. "Oh-ho," he whispered, elbowing me. "Don't tell me Mr. Popular's got a soft spot."
"Shut up," I muttered, but he only grinned wider.
Still, I couldn't stop glancing her way.
Not friends yet. Not even acquaintances. But there was a pull, undeniable and patient, waiting for its moment.
And for the first time in a long time, I wanted that moment to come.
.....
The basketball court had its own rhythm after class the echo of sneakers, the squeak of the ball, the hum of laughter. I wasn't much of a player, but Jacob insisted, so I ended up sitting on the bleachers with him and Maya after a short game, sweat cooling on my skin.
Jacob leaned back, his grin already dangerous. "So, Kael… be honest. You've been here two weeks. Which girls caught your eye?"
Maya rolled her eyes. "Typical. Can't you go five minutes without turning everything into a flirting contest?"
"Hey, I'm trying to bond with my boy here," Jacob shot back, nudging me. "And don't act like you don't notice. Half the guys in our year nearly break their necks when the cheer squad passes."
I didn't answer right away, but it didn't matter—Jacob was already pointing.
Like he'd summoned them, a small group of girls crossed the courtyard on the far side. Their laughter carried in the air, the kind of sound that pulled eyes without asking. Their blouses clung to them just right, the fabric catching on curves before loosening at the waist. With each step, the sway of their hips told its own story. Skirts danced against their thighs, teasing more than they revealed.
"See?" Jacob murmured low, his voice dripping mischief. "The way their skirts ride up with each step? Man, it should be illegal. Those striped skirts… barely enough to cover anything."
Maya groaned, throwing a bottle cap at him. "You're hopeless."
But she was smiling too, in that way friends smile when they know the game will never stop.
I looked, and though I tried to play it cool, something shifted in me.
Their movements were magnetic, yes—but it wasn't new. I'd seen this before. Not in this world, but in the other. The way bodies drew power from desire, the way even a simple step could command worship if done with the right sway.
A memory struck: Seraphina, in that other life, walking through a chamber as silken robes traced her thighs, each motion deliberate, her gaze daring me to bow.
I blinked hard. Here, now, they were just classmates walking home. But my wrist tingled again the Glumur mark burning like a secret brand.
"Damn," Jacob whispered, snapping me back. "You're actually staring. Which one?"
I smirked, shaking my head. "Wouldn't you like to know."
That made Maya laugh. "Careful, Jacob. Looks like Kael's not the innocent boy you think he is."
They teased me the whole way back, but inside, I wasn't just teased. I was remembering.
And when my eyes strayed across the courtyard again, they landed not on the laughing group but on Aimee.
She wasn't flaunting anything. A bouncing steps, skirts daring the eyes and breath catching. Just her, standing with a book that clinged to her heavy chest. talking to a friend, Makes me kind of jealous sunlight brushing her face.
But she drew me more strongly than all the rest.
And that was the part I couldn't explain.
.....
It started small. A flicker at the corner of my vision
The assistant class rep "Mia. always moved like she was rehearsing for some private stage. Every time she bent, every tilt of her hips, every laugh that made her chest press against her blouse it was all a performance. One meant for me. Or maybe for anyone with a pulse.
But then there was Aimee.
She didn't perform. She didn't need to.
She walked into the classroom with her hips speaking louder than the books in her hands, every step defined, every curve alive beneath the flame-red skirt she wore like second skin. Her blouse clung to her chest in ways that made me look twice before I could stop myself. She was built like fire, a body meant to burn yet her eyes… her eyes softened the blaze.
They weren't daring like the rep's, but calm, almost shy. The kind of gaze that looked down when caught staring back. And that shyness, hidden beneath all that heat, made her a thousand times more dangerous.
"Kael." Jacob leaned across the desk, whispering low. "Tell me you see what I see."
I didn't answer.
Because Aimee's hair glittered in the sunlight as she tucked a strand behind her ear, and my chest tightened. She was beautiful like the others, seductive like them too but there was something else. Something warm. Something quiet.
And I hated how much I wanted it.
The rep strutted closer, her skirt swaying, her perfume thick enough to choke. She leaned toward me, lips close to my ear, voice dripping with intention.
"Kael, can you help me carry the class files later?"
I nodded without looking at her. My eyes had already drifted to the other side of the room where Aimee's shy smile touched the windowlight.
....
"Mia, could you hand these to the front?" the teacher said.
"Yes, sir," she replied with perfect poise. Her voice was soft, polite but her eyes weren't. They were sharp, trained. On me.
She slid from her seat like a whisper, her pink hair spilling across her shoulders as she bent to scoop up the folders stacked at her desk. Her blouse clung to her chest, every button working overtime, and the movement gave just enough of a slip at the hem of her skirt for imagination to do the rest.
The classroom buzzed in its ordinary rhythm. Pens scratched. Pages flipped.
But my world narrowed.
To her hips. To the sway. To the whisper of her perfume crawling into my lungs when she passed my desk.
"Mia, you can have Kael carry those for you. He looks strong enough," the teacher added absentmindedly.
Her lips curved like she'd been waiting for it.
"Kael," she said, turning toward me, "would you mind helping?"
I didn't even have the chance to answer. She leaned down, the files brushing my arm as she placed them in front of me. But it wasn't the files I noticed it was her. The way her blouse gaped forward, fabric straining against her chest as if it wanted to burst. The faint shimmer of lingerie straps beneath her skin.
My breath caught, and she knew it. Her eyes glittered, victorious.
"Careful," she whispered, close enough that no one else could hear, "they're heavy."
Her fingers grazed mine, longer than necessary. The scrape of her nails on my skin was a promise of claws hiding beneath velvet.
"Sure," I said, my voice lower than I wanted it to be.
She smirked. "Knew you'd say yes."
She turned, walking back up the aisle, each sway of her skirt cut sharp and deliberate, the hem riding just high enough to tease. A few boys shifted in their seats, failing to look away. Even Jacob muttered under his breath, "She's asking for trouble."
But she didn't care about them. Every step she took, every flick of her hair, every curve she showed it was aimed at me.
I tried to force my focus on the papers in my hands, but my chest tightened.
This wasn't just attraction. This was… something heavier. A slow pull. A test.
And it was only the beginning.
Because as I carried the files forward, Mia leaned in again, close enough that her pink hair brushed my jaw.
"You should see me after class," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "I've got more for you to carry."
And when she walked away, every eye in the room followed her.
Including mine.
But not all of me.
Because at the far end of the classroom, Aimee sat her warmth so different, so unassuming. Her eyes flicked up just once, calm, shy, curious.
Mia was fire with claws.
Aimee was fire that healed.
And somewhere deep in Harlem… girls were already beginning to turn their heads toward me.