Chapter 15: My Territory

ALARIC HAYES

She still smelled the same.

Even after all these years, the moment Elowen stepped into my room, that soft, clean scent hit me — something like fresh laundry mixed with a faint hint of vanilla. It was exactly how she smelled back in middle school. I used to tease her about it, calling her “Miss Perfume” just to watch her cheeks turn pink. I never forgot that scent, no matter how hard I tried.

I leaned back against my desk, watching as she sat carefully in my chair like she was afraid she might break something. She looked small in my room, swallowed up by the space. Her grey sweater and simple black jeans were nothing special, but they suited her quiet personality.

“Why are you dressed like that?” I asked, nodding at her outfit.

Elowen glanced down at herself, then back up at me with those soft grey eyes. “I thought… I thought you were taking me to another party. So I wore something decent, like you said.”

I almost laughed, but I held it back. Of course that’s what she assumed. After the weekend and the pool party, she probably expected me to drag her somewhere else to humiliate her.

Instead, I’d brought her to my house.

The realization settled strangely in my chest. I had never invited any girl here before. Not even Tasha. My house was off-limits; too many fights, too many secrets, too much chaos behind the perfect image I showed at school. Yet here I was, sitting across from Elowen Bennett like it was normal.

I didn’t know why I’d done it.

Maybe it was the way she looked after falling in the cafeteria today tired, defeated, trying so hard to disappear. Or maybe it was my father’s voice in the back of my head reminding me I needed to get close to her. Gain her trust.

Either way, she was here now.

“Relax,” I said, pushing a notebook toward her. “We’re just working on the biology project. No party tonight.”

She nodded quickly and continued Writting in her notes, but I could see the tension in her shoulders. She kept her eyes mostly on the paper, occasionally glancing up at me like she was waiting for me to snap or say something cruel.

We continued the practical research. I opened my laptop and we began going through the Krebs cycle diagrams together. Surprisingly, she knew her stuff. Her explanations were clear and patient, even when I asked dumb questions just to keep her talking. For a while, the room felt almost peaceful. Just two people working on a stupid school project.

Then it started.

Raised voices drifted up from downstairs — first muffled, then sharper. My mother’s voice cut through the walls like a knife.

“You promised me you’d stay out of it this time, Nate!”

My father’s reply was louder, angrier. “You don’t understand what’s at stake here. This isn’t some office job I can just walk away from!”

I froze.

Elowen lifted her head, her eyes widening slightly as the argument grew more intense. The sound of something slamming probably a cabinet or a door echoed through the house.

“You’re dragging our son into this now?” Mom shouted. “He’s just a kid, Nate!”

“He’s not a kid anymore,” Dad fired back. “And if you hadn’t spent the last ten years running away every time things got hard, maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

The words hit hard. I clenched my jaw and stared at the laptop screen, pretending to focus on the diagram, but my mind was somewhere else. This was exactly why I never brought anyone home. The fighting never stopped. It was always the same money, secrets, my father’s shady “business” connections, and my mother’s disappearances.

I hated that Elowen was hearing it.

She shifted uncomfortably in the chair, her fingers tightening around her pen. “Is… everything okay?” she asked quietly, her voice barely audible over the shouting downstairs.

“It’s fine,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “Just ignore it.”

But she couldn’t ignore it. Neither could I.

The argument escalated. Mom’s voice cracked with emotion. “I’m tired of living like this! Always looking over our shoulders. Always wondering if tonight is the night someone comes for us because of your ‘associates’!”

Dad laughed bitterly. “You knew exactly what you were getting into when you married me. Don’t act surprised now.”

I rubbed a hand down my face, tension crawling up my spine. My heart sank deeper with every word. This wasn’t just a normal fight. It was the kind that usually ended with my mom packing a bag and disappearing for weeks again.

Elowen stayed quiet, but I could feel her watching me. Her presence in the room suddenly felt too close. Too real. She wasn’t supposed to see this side of my life he messy, broken part I kept hidden behind the hockey captain mask.

I stood up abruptly and walked over to the window, staring out into the dark backyard.

“You can leave if you want,” I muttered without turning around. “I’ll drive you home.”

There was a long pause.

“I’m okay staying,” she said softly. “If you still want to finish the project…”

Her voice was gentle. No judgment. No pity. Just quiet understanding.

It caught me off guard.

I turned back to look at her. She was still sitting at my desk, long brunette hair falling over one shoulder, grey eyes calm despite the chaos happening downstairs. For a second, I saw the same girl from middle school , the one who never fought back, but never completely broke either.

That familiar scent of hers drifted toward me again.

I didn’t know why I had invited her here tonight. It wasn’t part of any grand plan. It wasn’t just because my father wanted information. Something about Elowen made the noise in my head quieter, even when my parents were screaming loud enough to shake the walls.

But that scared me more than the fighting downstairs.

I walked back to the desk and sat on the edge of the bed again, closer to her this time.

“Let’s just finish this section,” I said, my voice lower now.

She nodded and turned back to the notebook, but I caught the small, worried glance she gave me before focusing on the work.

As the argument continued to rage downstairs, I tried to concentrate on ATP production and cellular energy. But my mind kept drifting.

To her scent.

To the fact that she was the first girl I’d ever brought into this house.

And to the dangerous realization that having Elowen Bennett here didn’t feel like punishment anymore.

Was now a mission.