The Week Before the Fall
Third-Person Limited – Kendra, then Dominic, then Kendra
By Monday morning, Kendra had decided three things:
She hated this school.She hated Dominic Garrison.And whatever weird, floaty feeling had shot through her chest when he grabbed her wrist? She never thought about that again.
She told herself it had been adrenaline. Or low blood sugar. Or lingering glitter poisoning from Friday's slime fiasco.
Definitely not anything to do with him.
Still, when she woke up, her first instinct was to check her phone. Not for messages from friends back home. Not for news.
For the gossip page.
@GarrisonTea had not disappointed.
Post 1 – Friday, 11:58 p.m.
When pranks go too far 💅 Karina Frost's locker "mysteriously" attacked her whole beauty routine & gym fit. Sources say: it's war.
Post 2 – Saturday, 3:01 p.m.
Cafeteria Showdown 🍿
Dominic publicly drags Kendra about her weight.Kendra walks out like a boss.Witnesses say tension was "???"
Popcorn, anyone?
Hundreds of likes. Comments arguing, speculating, taking sides.
Kendra read none of them.
She closed the app, tossed her phone aside, and stared at the ceiling.
"Today," she muttered to herself, "I keep my head down. I don't fight anyone. I don't swing. I don't accidentally join prison."
She dragged herself out of bed and got ready.
Downstairs, the girls were halfway through breakfast.
"Morning," Erica said. "You good?"
"Peachy," Kendra lied, grabbing a banana.
Jeah studied her face. "If you want, we can skip lunch today. Eat in the bathroom or something."
"That sounds depressing as hell," Kendra said. "We're not hiding from anyone. If they want a repeat performance, they can keep dreaming."
"Atta girl," Alrreah said, raising her mug.
Jennie still looked worried. "Just… don't let him get under your skin again," she said. "That's what he wants."
Kendra took a bite of banana and shrugged. "I learned my lesson," she said. "He wants a show; he's not getting one."
She didn't mention the split-second replay playing on a loop in the back of her brain:
His hand on her wrist.
His eyes locked on hers.
The world going quiet for a heartbeat.
She shoved the memory away.
Adrenaline. That's all.
At school, the air felt… different.
Not quieter, not louder. Just charged, like right before a storm when clouds gather but haven't broken yet.
As they stepped through the front doors, Kendra braced herself.
No one dropped slime on her.
No one called her whale.
No one tried anything.
People still stared, yes. But there were fewer obvious laughs. More side-eyes. A couple of nods, like tiny "respect" head-bobs from kids she didn't know.
One girl with braids and a nose ring passed by and murmured, "If Karina comes for you again, I got hands too, just saying."
Kendra blinked. "Uh… thanks?"
"Name's Maya," the girl added, then melted back into the flow of students.
Kendra filed that away. Backup was backup.
At her locker, she half-expected another trap. A bucket. A glitter bomb. Something.
She opened it slowly.
Nothing.
Just books. A faint, lingering scent of cheap cleaning spray. No slime. No glitter.
She exhaled.
"Progress," she muttered.
"Or they're planning something worse," Erica said unhelpfully.
Kendra shot her a look. "Thank you for your optimism."
They grabbed their books for first period and started down the hall. Halfway there, Kendra realized something.
They hadn't seen Karina.
Or Dominic.
Or his little encouragement.
She tried not to care.
She failed.
Later – Dominic
Dominic could still feel the ghost of her pulse in his hand.
He knew that was dramatic. He knew he was being ridiculous. But no matter how many times he flexed his fingers, he swore he could still feel that moment—her wrist under his grip, the bond slamming into place, his wolf howling Mate so loudly it drowned everything else out.
He'd barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw one of two things:
Kendra, face set in hard lines, shoulders tight as he called her a glutton in front of everyone.
Or Kendra, eyes wide and startled, staring up at him like the world had tilted sideways when their skin touched.
You did that, his own brain kept whispering. You did both.
By some miracle, he made it through first period without snapping at anyone. Or passing out. Or ripping the desk off the floor.
Second period was worse. Kendra wasn't in his class, but he could feel the faint tug in his chest that meant she was somewhere close.
Third period, Mrs. Turner asked him a question twice because he was too busy scanning the room for someone who wasn't even there.
"Dom," Antonio hissed afterward as they filtered out into the hallway. "You got to stop looking like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm fine," Dominic lied.
"You're pale," Robin observed. "Paler than usual. Like… Twilight extra pale."
"Say 'Twilight' near me again and I will end you," Dominic said without heat.
They reached the hallway intersection—one way toward the science wing, the other toward math and the junior lockers.
His wolf pulled toward the lockers.
So, apparently, did his feet.
"You gonna pretend you're not rerouting your life around Joint Service Girl?" Robin asked.
"Shut up, Robin," Dominic muttered, but he kept walking.
He spotted her before she saw him.
Kendra stood at her locker, head tilted slightly, lips moving. For a second he thought she was talking to someone, but then her eyes flicked down, and he saw the earbuds tucked into her ears.
Her lips moved again—mouthing song lyrics. Her body swayed, just barely, to a rhythm only she could hear.
She didn't look fierce right now. Or angry. Or like she wanted to rearrange anyone's teeth.
She just looked… tired. Human. Real.
His chest twisted.
"Are you going to stare at her all day," Antonio murmured from behind him, "or are you going to actually talk to her and not be a jerk for once?"
"I'm not staring," Dominic said, staring.
"Bro," Robin said, "if you were any more obvious, there'd be a neon sign flashing MATE over your head."
Dominic dragged his gaze away, scowling. "She doesn't know what she is to me," he muttered. "And she can't. Dad was clear."
"So be… less of an ass," Antonio said simply. "Step one. Stop making her life hell. Step two, don't hover like a creep."
"I'm not—"
The bell rang, cutting him off.
Kendra pulled one earbud out, checked something on her phone, and slammed her locker shut. Her friends swept in around her, and together they headed away without seeing him.
His wolf whined.
He ignored it.
For now.
Joint Service – Monday Afternoon
If Kendra had written a list of "people she expected to act normal today," Dominic Garrison would not have been on it.
So, when she walked into the office at three o'clock sharp, ready to endure two hours of silent mutual hatred, she was almost offended to find him already there… quietly sorting papers.
No smirk.
No snide greeting.
No fat joke.
"Afternoon, kids," Miss Hall said. "Today I've got some filing that needs doing and a stack of mail that needs to go to classrooms. Think you can handle that?"
"Sure," Dominic said.
Kendra blinked.
"Yeah," she added slowly. "We got it."
Miss Hall handed Dominic a box of manila folders and a list. She handed Kendra a bundle of envelopes. "These go to the teachers' rooms," she said. "You can take the second floor today. Dominic, you'll finish labeling, then help Kendra once you're done."
Kendra gave him a sideways look.
He didn't meet her eyes.
They worked in near silence for the first fifteen minutes.
Kendra leaned against the counter, sorting mail into smaller stacks by classroom.
Dominic labeled folders, his pen moving steadily.
The quiet would've been peaceful if her brain wasn't replaying Friday's cafeteria scene repeatedly.
Words she'd heard all her life, repackaged in his voice.
Buffet. Starved. Whale.
Her stomach knotted.
"You know they still talking about it, right?" she said abruptly, not looking up.
"About what?" Dominic asked without thinking.
She laughed, short and humorless. "You are accusing me in front of everybody. Calling me fat. Shooing me out your territory."
She shrugged, even though he couldn't see it with her back half-turned to him. "Don't worry. I'm not planning on walking into the cafeteria and demanding an apology."
He put the pen down.
"Kendra," he said.
Something in his tone made her glance up despite herself.
His eyes were on her now, dark and serious. Not mocking. Not cold.
"I shouldn't have said that" he said quietly.
The words hit her like a physical object.
She stared at him, thrown.
"What?" she said.
He swallowed. "What I said in the cafeteria," he clarified. "About you. Your weight. That wasn't… I shouldn't have. It was—"
He stopped himself, jaw clenching like the next word hurt.
"Cruel," he finished.
Kendra stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for the joke.
There was none.
She wasn't sure she believed him anyway.
"You mean that?" she asked carefully. "Or is this part of your 'my dad told me to behave' routine?"
"It can be both," he said. "He did tell me to stop being an idiot. But I also know I crossed a line."
She blinked.
She had not prepared for this.
An apology. From him.
Even a half-formed one.
Her chest felt… weird.
Unsteady.
"Okay," she said finally. "You shouldn't have said it. Agreed."
Silence stretched between them.
"That's it?" he asked.
"What, you want me to cry and thank you for your crumbs?" she shot back, defensive prickles already rising. "You don't get a standing ovation for basic humanity."
His mouth twitched. "Fair."
"Plus," she added, looking back down at the envelopes, "words don't disappear just because you regret them later. That's not how it works."
He went quiet again.
"You're not going to deny it?" he asked after a moment.
"Deny what."
"That you messed with Karina's stuff," he said.
She shot him another look. "You really want to go down that road again?"
He hesitated. "She's… been having a rough couple day," he said instead.
Kendra snorted. "Welcome to consequences."
"She's not… evil," he said.
Kendra barked a laugh. "That's debatable."
"She's… Karina," he said, like that explained everything and nothing at once. "She goes too far. She always has. But she's not used to being laughed at."
"Must be nice," Kendra said flatly. "To live your whole life punching down and never imagining someone could reach back up."
He didn't answer.
Miss Hall returned just then, arms full of more paper, and the moment shattered.
"Kendra, you can start those deliveries now if you'd like," she said. "Second floor, like I said. Dominic, you're on the main floor when you finish."
"Got it," Kendra said.
She grabbed her stacks and headed for the door.
Halfway out, curiosity got better of her. She glanced back once.
Dominic was watching her leave, unreadable expressions.
For a second, something flickered between them again—something she refused to name.
She left before it could settle.
Wednesday – Hallway
The rest of Monday passed without incident.
Tuesday, too.
No slime.
No pranks.
No cafeteria spectacles.
It should've felt like a win.
Instead, it felt like waiting for a punch she couldn't see coming.
By Wednesday, Kendra's nerves were frayed.
Dominic was… weird.
He didn't hover, exactly. But he was always nearby. At the end of the hall when she turned the corner. A few tables away at lunch, eyes flicking over like he was measuring distance.
No insults. No shoves.
Sometimes their eyes met. He'd look away first.
It made her feel unsteady, like she was standing on a boat she hadn't realized was moving.
"What is his problem?" she muttered under her breath as she and the girls walked toward the science wing between classes.
"Who?" Erica asked.
"As if you don't know," Kendra said. "Big, broody, annoying."
"Garrison?" Alrreah guessed.
"Obviously," Kendra said. "He's been… off."
"You mean, not actively bullying you?" Jennie said. "That sounds like an improvement."
"Yeah, but why?" Kendra demanded. "Guilt doesn't turn guys like that into saints overnight. He's up to something."
"Maybe," Jeah said carefully, "he realized he went too far."
Kendra made a face. "More like he's trying to lull me into a false sense of security so he can drop a vending machine on me or something."
They reached the stairs.
The hallway was crowded—kids bunching up near the stairwell entrance, teachers trying to get past, someone dropping their books and swearing in the traffic jam.
"Yo, we're gonna be late," Erica said, trying to slide through a gap.
Kendra shifted to follow her, hand digging blindly in her bag for her notebook.
The stairwell opened up ahead.
She took another step—
"Kendra!"
The shout came from behind her.
She didn't turn. Not yet. The voice was familiar; she'd heard it throw laughter and insults in equal measure.
"Keep walking," she muttered to herself.
Except the crowd shifted unexpectedly.
Someone bumped her shoulder from the left. Another kid cut in front of her, forcing her to pivot. Her foot landed half on the edge of the first stair, half off.
Off-balance.
She windmilled her arms, notebook still in hand.
She didn't actually fall.
Not yet.
Antonio's voice floated from somewhere behind Dominic. "Dom, leave it!"
Dominic's answer was lost in the noise.
Kendra didn't look back to see the worry flashing across his face.
She just steadied herself, rolled her eyes, and kept going.
A few kids chuckled like they'd been hoping for a repeat of her first hallway fall.
She flipped them off without breaking stride.
Wednesday's Joint Service was quiet again.
Almost too quiet.
Miss Hall had them shredding old documents and reorganizing a file cabinet. They worked side by side, occasionally bumping shoulders, always pulling away like the contact stung.
At one point, Kendra caught him staring at her hands while she fought with a stiff drawer.
"What?" she snapped.
"Nothing," he said quickly, looking away.
He'd been doing that a lot—watching her hands. Her wrists. The way she moved.
He didn't know yet that in a week, he wouldn't be able to look at her hands without flinching.
She didn't know yet that in a week, those same hands would be wrapped in white and pain.
All either of them knew now was that something had shifted between them.
Something they didn't have a name for.
Something that felt, in different ways, like standing at the edge of a cliff in the dark.
Waiting.
Friday – The Last Normal Day
By Friday, the tension in Kendra's shoulders had eased a fraction.
No one had tried anything new. Teachers were starting to call on her in class like she was just another student instead of "the Jamaican girl who suplexed Karina." Her grades were decent. Her friends were settling in.
Life, somehow, was… happening.
They made it through lunch with no incidents.
Even Karina seemed tired—quieter than usual, sitting close to Dominic, occasionally shooting Kendra death glares but not moving to act on them.
Dominic watched Kendra in flashes.
He watched her laugh with her friends. He watched her flick a fry at Erica for stealing from her tray. He watched her talk with her hands, the way her fingers danced with her words.
His wolf prodded at him constantly.
Protect.
He didn't know from what.
He just knew the week had crawled by in a strange mix of dread and hope.
The dread, he understood.
The hope?
He didn't touch.
After school, Joint Service was almost… easy.
They spent an hour helping Miss Hall put together small welcome packets for an upcoming parent night—maps, teacher lists, school rules.
Kendra folded papers into folders with practiced speed.
"You ever think," she said suddenly, "about how weird this is?"
"What," Dominic asked, "paper?"
"This," she said, gesturing between them. "You. Me. Your dad forcing us to play office assistants three times a week instead of just suspending us."
He considered. "Suspending you would've looked bad," he said. "Exchange program and all."
"Yeah, I got that part," she said. "Still weird."
"You'd rather be at home?" he asked.
"Honestly?" she said. "Yeah. Or at least somewhere that's not full of fluorescent lights and childhood trauma waiting to happen."
He almost smiled.
Almost.
"You?" she asked, surprising him. "You'd rather be… where?"
He shrugged. "Forest," he said after a second. "Running."
She raised an eyebrow. "You do track?"
"Something like that," he said.
She studied him for a second, like she wanted to ask more.
Then she didn't.
When Miss Hall finally dismissed them.