Iris
By the third day, Noah Vale had become a pattern.
And patterns were dangerous things.
I noticed him everywhere , not because he tried to stand out, but because he didn't. He occupied space the way shadows did, quietly and without apology. Always early to class. Always seated where he could see exits. Always watching without appearing to.
People like that didn't exist by accident.
Blackwood High had already decided what to do with him, of course. That part happened fast. It always did.
The girls called him mysterious like it was a compliment.
The guys called him weird like it was an accusation.
Teachers praised his manners and punctuality.
No one knew where to place him.
Except me.
I placed him under suspect.
Not criminal , just… unexplained.
I caught myself glancing toward him during lectures, watching how he reacted when the room grew loud, when someone laughed too suddenly, when a book slammed shut. His attention flicked toward sound before his body reacted, like his brain moved faster than instinct.
Athlete, maybe.
Or military background.
Or anxiety.
Or something else.
That something else nagged at me.
"You're staring again."
I jumped slightly and turned to find Lena smirking at me from the desk beside mine.
"I'm not," I said automatically.
"You totally are," she said. "If you like him, just say so."
I scoffed. "I don't like him."
"Sure," she said. "That's why you've been glaring holes into his skull all week."
I risked another glance.
Noah sat two rows ahead, pen moving smoothly across his notebook, face unreadable.
He didn't look back.
"Trust me," Lena continued, lowering her voice, "guys like that are always trouble."
I nodded absently.
For once, she was right.
By Friday afternoon, Blackwood had done what it did best , it closed in.
The sky hung low and gray, thick with the promise of rain. Fog curled lazily between buildings, softening edges, muting sound. The town looked like it was holding its breath.
I cut through the old path behind the school on my way home, boots crunching over damp leaves. The woods bordered Blackwood High like an afterthought, dense and unwelcoming, their trees twisted with age.
Most people avoided them.
I didn't.
Halfway down the trail, I heard footsteps behind me.
Steady. Unhurried.
I didn't panic. Blackwood was small. Everyone knew everyone.
Still, I slowed.
The footsteps slowed too.
I stopped.
"So," I said without turning around, "are you following me, or is this just an unfortunate coincidence?"
Silence.
Then ,
"Coincidence," Noah's voice said calmly.
I turned.
He stood a few feet back, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, posture relaxed. The fog curled around him like it belonged there.
"Of course," I said dryly. "That explains everything."
He arched a brow. "You walk this way every day?"
"Most days."
"So do I."
I glanced past him, toward the road. "Funny. I've never seen you."
"Maybe you weren't looking."
I narrowed my eyes. "I look."
He smiled faintly. Not amused. Not annoyed.
Just… patient.
We fell into step together, the silence between us oddly comfortable.
"Iris," he said after a moment.
I blinked. "What?"
"Your name," he clarified. "It's Iris."
I stiffened slightly. "You've been asking around?"
"No," he said. "I listen."
That didn't make me feel better.
"You're very observant," I said.
He shrugged. "Habit."
"From where?" I pressed.
"Moving around a lot."
"Military family?"
"No."
"Sports?"
"No."
"Trouble?"
That earned me a glance. "Why?"
"Just trying to narrow down which stereotype you fit into."
He stopped walking.
I stopped too.
"You're trying very hard to figure me out," he said.
I crossed my arms. "You're trying very hard not to be figured out."
A beat passed.
Then he surprised me.
"Fair," he said.
I didn't know what to do with that.
Noah
I shouldn't have walked with her.
I knew that. Elias would have been furious if he'd known. Proximity led to familiarity. Familiarity led to attachment. Attachment led to mistakes.
But there was something about Iris Monroe that disrupted my discipline.
She wasn't reckless.
She was attentive.
And that was worse.
The woods pressed close around us as we walked, branches creaking softly in the wind. The air smelled like damp earth and decaying leaves. Familiar. Comforting.
Dangerous.
I catalogued sounds out of habit , the distant hum of traffic, the rustle of small animals, the slow rhythm of her breathing beside me.
Human. Fragile.
"So," she said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "Why Blackwood?"
"There was an opening at my uncle's job," I replied.
She glanced at me sideways. "Doing what?"
"Consulting."
She snorted. "That's not a real job."
"It pays like one."
"Convenient."
I ignored that.
"You don't talk much," she continued.
"I talk when there's something worth saying."
"And is there?" she challenged.
I considered her carefully.
"You're persistent," I said.
Her lips curved. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"It can be."
She stopped walking again, turning fully toward me.
"You know what I think?" she said.
I waited.
"I think you came here to disappear," she continued. "But you don't know how to be invisible."
I studied her face , the certainty there, the quiet confidence.
"You're wrong," I said.
"Am I?"
"Yes."
She watched me for a long moment, then shrugged. "Okay."
That was it. No argument. No pushback.
It unsettled me more than if she'd insisted.
We parted ways at the edge of the woods.
"See you Monday, Noah Vale," she said lightly.
I watched her go until she disappeared down the road.
Then I exhaled.
Elias was waiting when I got home.
He stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, expression dark.
"You walked with her," he said.
I didn't bother denying it. "Briefly."
"She's curious."
"Yes."
"That makes her dangerous."
"She's human."
"That makes her fragile," he snapped. "And you are not allowed to forget that."
I leaned against the counter. "She doesn't know anything."
"Yet."
Silence settled between us.
"There are disturbances in town," Elias said finally. "Things moving where they shouldn't. Old things."
My jaw tightened. "Here?"
"Yes."
I straightened. "Then why are we still pretending this is just a relocation?"
Elias met my gaze. "Because panic draws attention."
"And attention , "
"Gets you killed," we finished together.
Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance.
Iris
That night, I dreamed of fog.
Of trees closing in.
Of footsteps that followed no matter how fast I walked.
I woke with my heart racing.
I told myself it was nothing.
Just stress.
Just curiosity.
Just a boy with too many secrets.
I had no idea how wrong I was.
🩸 END OF CHAPTER TWO 🩸