Days Remaining: 21 Bank Account: ₹2200
College hallways usually smelled of floor wax, stale coffee, and despair. Today, they smelled like fear. Or maybe that was just Sam's tuna sandwich.
"I'm telling you," Sam whispered aggressively, leaning in close to Elian as they walked down the main corridor. "It's not just the wind. It's the ions, Elian. You're charged. You're like a walking Tesla coil."
"I am not a Tesla coil," Elian said, clutching his bag. "I'm a student."
"That's exactly what a Tesla coil would say," Maya commented, not looking up from her textbook as she deftly stepped around a trash can. "Sam, stop measuring his aura. People are staring."
"Let them stare!" Lyra shouted.
She was floating backwards in front of them, swimming through the air doing a lazy backstroke. "I hate this place," she groaned, kicking her legs in the air. "I died to escape education. Why are you bringing me back here? This is hell. Literally. I've been to the Bad Place, and their waiting room has better Wi-Fi."
"We have a lecture, Lyra," Elian muttered under his breath.
"You have 21 days left!" Lyra argued, doing a somersault. "Skip! Let's go steal a boat! Let's go push a statue into a river!"
"Shh," Elian hissed.
Sam stopped. He looked around wildly. "Did you hear that? The hiss. It's the pressure valve releasing energy."
"It was me, Sam," Elian sighed. "I was... clearing my throat."
They turned the corner toward the B-Block labs. And there, blocking the path near the water cooler, was the obstacle. Jason.
He was laughing with his usual crew, Mike and Trent, probably bragging about how much protein powder he snorted for breakfast. He looked big, loud, and impenetrable. Old Elian would have turned around. Old Elian would have taken the long route through the library, even if it meant being late.
New Elian just kept walking.
Jason looked up. He saw Elian. Usually, this was the part where Jason would sneer. He would shoulder-check Elian into a locker. He would ask if Elian bought his clothes at a garage sale.
But today, Jason's eyes didn't narrow. They widened. He looked at Elian's forehead (where Lyra wasn't). He looked at the empty air around Elian (where Lyra was). He remembered the "Flick." He remembered the temperature drop. He remembered the whisper in his ear that sounded like dry leaves.
Jason's face drained of color. He didn't sneer. He flinched.
"Whoa," Jason said, throwing his hands up defensively. He actually pressed his back flat against the water cooler, sucking his stomach in to make room. "I'm not doing anything. I'm cool. We're cool."
Mike frowned. "Jay? It's just the nerd."
"Shut up, Mike," Jason hissed, not taking his eyes off the space above Elian's head. "Don't look him in the eye. He does the thing."
Elian stopped. He blinked. Sam stopped too, looking delighted. Maya finally lowered her book.
"The thing?" Elian asked.
"The wind thing!" Jason whispered, sweating. "The static! I saw the spark, man. I googled it. Spontaneous Electrical Generation is real. Just... keep walking."
Jason made a strange hand gesture, something between a peace sign and a ward against evil spirits.
"Are you... exorcising me?" Elian asked.
"I'm just creating boundaries!" Jason yelped. "Personal space! Hydrate and vibrate, that's my motto now! Just go!"
He grabbed Mike and Trent by their collars and power-walked away in the opposite direction, looking over his shoulder twice to make sure he wasn't being chased by a poltergeist.
Silence in the hallway.
"Did you see that?" Sam whispered, his voice trembling with joy. "He retreated. The Alpha retreated! Elian, you didn't even cast a spell. You just existed."
"I think he's afraid of ghosts," Elian said, trying to suppress a smile.
"He thinks you're a warlock," Maya corrected, pushing her glasses up. "Look at him. He's practically throwing salt over his shoulder. You have a reputation now, Elian. ' The Cursed One'."
Lyra was floating near the ceiling, cackling. "Oh, this is delicious," she laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Hydrate and vibrate? I'm going to write that on his tombstone. Elian, let me go whisper in his ear again. Just a little 'Boo'. Please?"
"No," Elian whispered.
"You're no fun," Lyra pouted. "I have so much potential as a menace."
The Lecture
Ten minutes later, they were sitting in the back row of "Advanced Database Management Systems." The professor, Mr. Gupta, was a man whose voice had the unique ability to liquefy brains. He was droning on about SQL queries.
"SELECT * FROM Students WHERE Will_To_Live = 'False';" Lyra narrated, floating horizontally above the professor's head.
She was bored out of her mind. She started making faces at the students. She poked a sleeping guy in the ear (he slapped it, thinking it was a fly). She tried to blow Mr. Gupta's comb-over to the other side of his head.
"Elian," Lyra whispered, floating back to his desk and sitting on top of his notebook. "Elian. Elian. Elian."
Elian stared straight ahead, pretending to take notes. I'm in class, he wrote in the margin of his notebook. Stop it
"I can't stop, I'm restless," Lyra groaned. She leaned forward, putting her face right in front of his. "This is worse than death. At least in death, there's no homework. Draw me."
Elian sighed softly. He looked at Mr. Gupta, who was drawing a complex table on the board. Elian turned to a fresh page. He started sketching. Not the database diagram. Her. He sketched the messy hair that defied gravity. The oversized coat. The sharp, mischievous grin.
Maya glanced over at his notebook. "Who's that?" she whispered.
Elian froze. He covered the drawing with his hand. "Just... a character. For a story."
Maya studied the drawing, then looked at the empty space where Lyra was actually sitting (and making peace signs). "She looks cool," Maya whispered. "Kind of... intense."
"She's annoying," Elian muttered.
"I heard that!" Lyra protested. "I am a delight! I am the spice in your bland oatmeal life!"
"Mr. Sharma," the professor's voice cut through the air like a knife.
Elian jumped. He knocked his pen off the desk. "Yes, sir?"
Mr. Gupta turned around. He looked at Elian over his spectacles. The room went silent. "Since you seem to have mastered the material enough to focus on... artistic endeavors," Mr. Gupta said, eyeing the notebook. "Perhaps you can tell the class the command to remove duplicate rows from a selection?"
The class turned to look at him. Jason, sitting in the front row, ducked his head under his desk, terrified that Elian might explode if he got the answer wrong.
Elian froze. His mind was blank. He hadn't been listening since "Good Morning." He looked at Sam. Sam mouthed something that looked like "Aliens." He looked at Maya. She was frantically pointing at page 42, but he couldn't see the text.
Lyra floated over to the professor's notes on the podium. She peered at the paper. "Oh, easy," she said. She floated back to Elian and whispered in his ear. "It's 'DISTINCT', dummy. And tell him his chalk is squeaky."
Elian cleared his throat. "It's... the DISTINCT command, sir," Elian said.
Mr. Gupta paused. He looked at his notes. He looked back at Elian, disappointed he couldn't kick him out. "Correct," Mr. Gupta grunted. "But keep the doodling for art class, Mr. Sharma. Sit down."
Elian sank back into his chair, exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding.
Sam leaned over, looking awestruck. "How did you know that? You were drawing cartoons."
"Intuition," Elian said.
"Zorgon," Sam nodded wisely. "The spirits whisper the code. It's the Ghost in the Machine. Literally."
Lyra floated back to Elian's desk. She looked at the drawing of herself. She traced the lines of the sketch with a translucent finger. "You made my nose too big," she complained softly.
"It's accurate," Elian whispered back, barely moving his lips.
"It's slander," she grinned. "But... I like the hair. You captured the chaotic energy."
The bell rang. The class scrambled to leave. Elian packed his bag slowly. For the first time in three years, he didn't rush out to avoid the crowds. He walked out slowly, flanked by his squad.
Sam was debating the existence of lizard people. Maya was complaining about the workload. And Lyra was floating backwards through the door, yelling at a pigeon to get out of her way.
"Move it, rat with wings! I'm walking here!" Lyra shouted.
Elian smiled. Jason watched him go from the safety of the corner, clutching his protein shake like a holy relic. It wasn't a normal life. It was short. It was haunted. But as Elian stepped out into the sunlight, he realized he wouldn't trade it for a normal one.
"Elian!" Lyra called out, pointing at a street vendor. "Item #45: Eat something spicy until we cry. Let's go!"
"That's not on the list," Elian said.
"It is now," she winked.
"Coming," Elian said, and he ran to catch up.