Alexa:

  The bell rang, breaking the strange spell that Ms. Hawke had cast over the class. Alexa let out a quiet breath as she closed her notebook, fingers stiff from how tightly she’d been gripping her pen. She shook off the feeling and slung her bag over her shoulder, hurrying out of the lab and into the bustling hallway.

  By the time she reached the cafeteria, the scent of overcooked pasta and slightly burnt fries had replaced the sterile chemical tang of the lab. The murmur of students talking, laughing, and arguing over lunch filled the space, a much-needed return to normalcy.

  At their usual table, Elena Vasquez was already mid-rant. “—I swear, it was the worst rom-com I’ve ever seen.”

  Alexa slid into her seat across from her. “That bad?”

  Elena groaned dramatically. “Worse. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the lead guy was hot, but he and the girl had, like, negative chemistry.” She grabbed a fry off her tray and pointed it at Alexa like a weapon. “Imagine someone reading a love confession off a teleprompter. That’s how bad it was.”

  Sophie smirked. “So, obviously, you watched the whole thing?”

  Elena rolled her eyes. “Of course. I needed to know if it could get worse. Spoiler alert: it did.”

  Alexa chuckled, taking a sip of her juice. “I don’t know why you put yourself through these things.”

  “It’s a public service,” Elena declared. “Someone has to warn the world.”

  Sophie snorted before nudging Alexa. “Speaking of actual romance, are you going to the dance?”

  Alexa blinked. “The what now?”

  Sophie sighed, exasperated. “The dance, Alexa. You know, the one next Friday? The one the whole school’s been talking about?”

  “Oh.” Alexa twirled her fork in her pasta. “I guess I forgot.”

  Elena gasped, clutching her chest in mock betrayal. “How could you forget? It’s the only exciting thing happening in this town!”

  Sophie leaned in, a knowing smirk on her lips. “Wait, don’t tell me—you’re waiting for someone to ask you?”

  Alexa made a face. “No. I just… haven’t really thought about it.”

  Elena narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Not even a little?”

  “Well,” Alexa said slowly, “I mean… I guess it could be fun?”

  Sophie and Elena exchanged glances.

  “Oh, she’s so getting asked,” Elena whispered loudly.

  “By who though?” Sophie mused, tapping her chin. “Any guesses?”

  Alexa groaned. “Can we not do this?”

  Elena grinned. “Nope.”

  As they continued their playful interrogation, Alexa found her mind wandering—not to the dance, or to possible dates, but back to the abandoned house. To the way Peter had hesitated, to the strange sensation in Ms. Hawke’s classroom, to the feeling that something was shifting, just out of sight. Why did she feel like she was standing on the edge of something she couldn't see?

  Elena leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand with a wicked grin. "Okay, but real talk—we all remember last year’s dance disaster, right?"

  Sophie nearly choked on her drink. "Oh God, which one? There were so many."

  Alexa raised an eyebrow, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. "You mean the one where the fire alarm went off because someone thought candles were a good idea?"

  Elena snorted. "That was funny, but no, I meant the punch incident."

  Sophie slapped the table, laughing. "Oh, that one! When Jake Donovan tried to spike the punch and ended up just dumping an entire bottle of his stupid energy drink concoction in it instead?"

  Hannah winced at the memory. "I swear, half the school was vibrating for hours. The music wasn’t even fast, but people were dancing like they were at a rave."

  Elena groaned. "You weren’t the one stuck dancing with Evan O’Connor after three cups of that stuff. The boy was moving like he had four separate souls fighting for control."

  Hannah sighed dramatically. "Ah, dances. A rich history of terrible decisions and deeply regrettable slow dances."

  Elena grinned. "And yet, here we are, planning to go again."

  Alexa smirked, but her gaze drifted out the window for a moment, her thoughts slipping back to the house. I shouldn’t be thinking about this. Not now. Not when everyone else is so focused on this silly dance... She snapped out of her thoughts and cleared her throat. "Some people never learn."

  Elena wagged her eyebrows teasingly. "Well, this time, maybe you will have an embarrassing moment for the books, Alexa. Maybe your dance partner will turn out to be a disaster."

  Alexa rolled her eyes, but it felt like a hollow gesture. What if something else is the real disaster? She bit her lip. "I’m not even sure I’m going yet."

  Sophie nudged her. "Oh, you’re going. And if we have to drag you onto the dance floor, so be it."

  Elena smirked. "Let’s just pray this year’s disaster isn’t one of us."

  Alexa’s mind flickered back to Peter's hesitation earlier, to the unsettling feeling that had crept up on her as she’d stepped into the house. Was she just chasing some fleeting thrill? Or was there something more to it? She forced a smile and tried to shake off the unease. "Yeah, we’ll see."

  But even as she said it, the weight of something unseen pressed at her chest, and the laughter of her friends felt distant, like a sound coming from somewhere far away.

  “I need to go,” Alexa said, pushing back her chair. “Bathroom.”

  “I’ll come with,” Sophie chimed in, standing up before Alexa could protest. “Need to check my hair anyway.”

  Alexa rolled her eyes but didn’t argue as they made their way through the cafeteria, dodging backpacks and weaving past other students lingering near the food line.

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  “So,” Sophie said as they walked, stretching out the word playfully, “let’s talk serious business—if you had to be stranded on a desert island with one person from our school, who would it be?”

  Alexa snorted. “That’s serious business?”

  “Life or death, Alexa.” Sophie grinned. “Choose wisely.”

  Alexa hummed in thought. “Okay, so we’re talking survival here, not just ‘Who’s the least annoying?’”

  “Exactly.”

  “Then… probably Claire,” Alexa decided. “She knows a weird amount of random stuff. Like, she once explained how to build a water filter out of sand and charcoal. Seems useful.”

  Sophie made a face. “Ugh, but then you have to listen to Claire ?I know everything” Jenkins talk. Forever.”

  Alexa laughed. “Better than starving to death.”

  “I dunno, I might take my chances,” Sophie said dramatically, flipping her hair as they reached the bathroom.

  They stepped inside, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. The school bathrooms were standard fare—too bright, slightly damp, and smelling vaguely of cheap soap and anxiety.

  Alexa went into a stall while Sophie leaned against the sink, pulling out her phone. “Okay, new question,” Sophie said. “If you had to—”

  “Can I at least pee in peace first?” Alexa called.

  “Fine, fine,” Sophie sighed.

  A moment later, Alexa emerged, stepping up to the sinks to wash her hands. She caught her reflection in the mirror, tilting her head slightly as she studied herself.

  Her brown hair was still slightly messy from the morning, the waves framing her face in their usual unruly way. Her bangs were getting long again, falling into her hazel eyes, which flickered between green and gold under the harsh school lighting. The freckles across her nose and cheeks stood out more than usual today.

  She leaned in closer.

  For a moment, the mirror shifted.

  It was subtle—like a ripple in water, distorting her reflection just enough to make her stomach drop. Then, cracks spiderwebbed across the glass. Not real ones, not ones she could touch, but a vision, a glimpse of something just beyond her reach.

  A broken mirror.

  The image was gone in an instant, leaving only her reflection staring back, but the feeling it left behind lingered.

  Her fingers gripped the edge of the sink.

  “Hey,” Sophie’s voice cut through the moment.

  Alexa startled as Sophie’s hands settled gently on her shoulders, steadying her. She must have noticed Alexa’s sudden tension.

  “You okay?” she asked, giving Alexa a searching look.

  "Yeah," Alexa said, a beat too late. She pulled at her sleeves, her voice carefully even. "Just got dizzy for a sec."

  Sophie didn’t seem convinced. "You looked like you were about to faint."

  "I didn’t, though," Alexa pointed out, forcing a smirk. "I’m still standing, aren’t I?"

  Sophie gave a dramatic sigh, but let it go as they merged into the flow of students moving through the halls. Alexa barely registered the voices, the shifting bodies, the occasional bursts of laughter. Her mind was still trapped in that moment. The mirror. The way the cracks had shimmered—almost alive.

  She shook the thought off.

  By the time they slid into their seats for math class, Alexa’s limbs felt heavy, like something unseen was weighing her down. The teacher’s voice became a low murmur, words blending together in a meaningless hum. Equations filled the board, students answered questions, but it all felt distant.

  Someone said something that made a few people laugh.

  Tyler answered a question with his usual smug confidence.

  Jason muttered something under his breath, making Evan snicker.

  Alexa barely caught any of it.

  Her fingers twitched against the desk before she gave in, reaching for her bag and sliding out her sketchbook. The rough texture of the paper grounded her, just a little. She flipped through the pages absently, her pencil-smudged fingertips skimming over sketches of the abandoned house—its crooked outline, the way its windows gaped like hollow eyes.

  Then she stopped.

  Her breath hitched.

  One of the sketches—a quick, messy one she didn’t even remember fully drawing—looked wrong. The lines jagged, edges uneven, like they’d been shattered and pieced back together. The angles, the way the ink bled into rough fractures—

  It looked like the broken mirror.

  Her fingers clenched around the paper. The air around her felt too still, like the world had paused just long enough for her to notice something she wasn’t supposed to see.

  It was just a sketch.

  Just a coincidence.

  But then why did it feel like something was crawling beneath her skin?

  As the bell rang, signaling the end of math class, Alexa barely noticed the shuffle of students packing up. She hesitated for a moment, then turned toward Peter, who was already slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

  "Hey," she said, stepping closer. "You still up for the abandoned house after school?"

  Peter glanced at her, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, but—" he exhaled, tilting his head. "I’ve got swimming for PE, and after that, I’ll be completely dead. I need to go home and eat first. But we can meet at your place around five and go together, if that works for you."

  Alexa considered it, then nodded. "That’s fine. Just don’t bail on me last minute."

  Peter smirked. "I already agreed to this insanity, didn’t I?"

  "You did," she said, her lips curving slightly. "No backing out now."

  He gave a mock sigh of resignation before heading toward the door. "See you at five, then."

  As Peter disappeared into the crowded hallway, Alexa grabbed her things and made her way toward the locker rooms, her mind still tangled in thoughts of the sketch, the mirror, and the uneasy weight in her chest.

  The PE lesson that followed was a track run—a full circuit around the school’s outdoor field. The late afternoon sun hung low, casting long shadows across the track.

  Alexa ran, her feet pounding against the ground in steady rhythm, but her thoughts outran her. The cool air rushed against her skin, the distant sounds of other students’ footsteps filling the space around her. The rhythmic sound of her breathing and the steady beat of her heart were drowned out by the swirl of thoughts that kept pulling her back to the mirror, to the house. She barely noticed the group of students ahead of her, their voices blending with the sound of her footfalls.

  Then, a sharp, loud shout from the male track team snapped her back to the present. The voice was filled with excitement, carrying over the field like a whip crack.

  "Nick just broke the school record!"

  Alexa’s pace slowed as she instinctively looked toward the source of the shout. Her breath came a little quicker, but it wasn’t from exertion. She watched the track team crowding around a figure at the center of the field—Nickolas Leben, the student from the other class, standing in the middle of them with a confident grin.

  She recognized him instantly. Despite his natural ease, there was something about him—something in the way he moved that made her uneasy. She couldn’t help but slow down further, curiosity drawing her toward the group.

  The way Nick stood, it was as though he was completely in control, every muscle relaxed yet poised for whatever came next. His hair, short blonde and a little messy from the run, framed his face, adding to his effortless coolness. Alexa’s eyes lingered on him as the students swarmed around, clapping him on the back, congratulating him on breaking the record.

  His posture remained confident, not too cocky, but undeniably self-assured. The smirk that danced on his lips seemed to come easily, like it was an inherent part of him, not forced.

  What caught her attention the most, though, were his eyes. Bright, piercing green, they were locked on something in the distance as if he was calculating the next step in some race no one else could see. There was an intensity to them, sharp and calculating, like he was already thinking two or three moves ahead. It made Alexa pause, something about that gaze tugging at her awareness.

  For a moment, she found herself staring at him, almost unable to look away. Though the distance between them was small, it felt like he was miles away, lost in his own world. Then he turned his head toward her. Their eyes locked, and the world around them seemed to blur. His gaze was sharp yet calm, like a predator assessing its surroundings before making its move.

  For a brief moment, the noise of the track team faded away, leaving only the intense green of his eyes burning into hers. There was something about the way he looked at her—focused, yet with an almost knowing quality, as if he could see right through her. It was as though, in that moment, he wasn’t just acknowledging her presence, but calculating something unspoken between them.

  Alexa felt a flutter in her chest, an inexplicable pull, before she quickly tore her gaze away, her heart racing with an unfamiliar intensity. The connection had been fleeting, but the weight of it lingered, as if it had left something behind—something she couldn’t quite place but couldn’t shake either.

  The moment was broken when one of the other girls from the track team approached Alexa with a grin, pulling her out of the reverie. "You should have seen it. He’s like a machine, all speed and precision. Nick’s a freak of nature."

  Alexa blinked and tore her gaze away, her pulse quickening for reasons she couldn’t explain.

  "Yeah, I saw," she murmured, trying to push the strange feeling away.

  Still, her mind lingered on Nick’s figure, on the way he had seemed to command the track, as if nothing could touch him. She shook her head, trying to focus back on her run, but the odd sense that something was aligning deep within her chest didn't quite go away.

  As she resumed her pace, the echo of his green eyes—sharp, intense—remained at the back of her mind.