Chapter 51 Aria
School hasn’t felt the same since Sienna disappeared. It’s not just the empty seat in English class or the way my chest still tightens whenever someone says her name. It’s all the little reminders of her—who she was, who I thought she was, and everything left unsaid between us. But life doesn’t wait for closure, and it certainly doesn’t slow down because I’m still trying to figure it out.
I sit at my usual lunch table and my notebook messy with half-formed thoughts about Luca, Sienna, and everything tangled in between. My pen hovers over a blank page but no words come. My mind keeps drifting to the memory of Luca’s eyes—those grey, unreadable eyes—and the way Sienna’s disappearance has left holes in the places I didn’t even know existed.
“Aria, right?”
I look up. A tall boy stands before me by the edge of the table, one hand brushing blonde hair back from his forehead. His eyes were curious but kind. He is a senior year legend and one of our best chess players/captain. I’ve seen him around occasionally in the hallways but he’s never spoken to me until now. He’s holding a tray with a sandwich and fries, standing there like he’s trying to figure out if it’s socially acceptable to approach me.
“Can I sit?” he asks, voice casual but polite.
I blink, uncertain. “Uh, sure.”
“I noticed you usually eat alone,” he says, not teasing or flirty tone. “You okay?”
I shrug. “Just a lot going on.”
He nods. “Yeah, I get that. Senior year’s supposed to be fun but sometimes it’s more chaos than excitement.”
I can’t help a faint smile. “Exactly.”
We pause for a beat not the awkward silence of strangers but a quiet space that feels like it could stretch or shrink depending on what we say next. Max was definitely friendly.
“Look,” he says, fishing a fry out of his box, “if you ever want company at lunch, I’m around. People shouldn’t eat alone.”
It was a simple genuine gesture and my chest eases slightly. “Thanks,” I whisper. “That’s really nice of you.”
He grins, so easily. “So Luca and you are friends, right?”
My stomach twists. He doesn’t really know the chaos and the supernatural secrets lurking in the shadows around us.
I nod, careful. “Yeah. We talk.”
Max doesn’t flinch. “Okay. I’m not gonna pretend I understand your history but I’ve seen how you look at him sometimes. It’s impressive how you manage to keep it together.”
My cheeks burn. “Thanks,” I mutter.
“I’m Max by the way,” he says, extending a hand.
“Aria.”
“I know.”
Conversation flows from there easily. We talk about school projects, homework disasters, upcoming games, his terrible habit of quoting motivational posters when nervous, and my ongoing crisis with English essays. Max laughs at my sarcasm and I laugh at his, and for a while, the world feels ordinary. Eventually, Nora spots me from across the cafeteria, waving like she’s signaling a rescue mission.
Max grins. “She cool?”
“Yeah,” I say. “She’s intense.”
He chuckles. “Intense? I like intense.”
I almost choke on my drink. “You’re going to be the reason I ruin lunch,” I mutter.
“Friendly warning,” he says, smiling.
Later, I find Nora waiting at my locker, arms crossed, as if she’s been planted there for surveillance duty.
“Is he real?” she asks, brow raised.
“Who?”
“Max. The chess captain who didn’t trip over his own ego when he saw you.”
“He’s kind,” I say.
“Kind? Aria, we’re not talking about a puppy here. This is chess captain Max. People like him exist, sure, but they usually have agendas.”
“I mean his personality,” I clarify.
Nora smirks knowingly. “Notice he saw you, talked to you like a normal human being and didn’t make a move? That’s rare. Very rare.”
I shrug. “It was just lunch.”
“Friendly lunch,” she corrects.
I think about that. Friendly and normal. A small bubble of simplicity in a week that’s been a whirlwind of fear, stress, and supernatural tension.
The next day, Max catches me in the class. “Hey, Aria,” he says, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets. “You doing lunch today?”
“Yeah,” I reply, surprised at how ordinary it feels to be asked.
He slides into the seat across from me. “Cool. I brought an extra granola bar if you’re hungry. Not judging, just in case you forgot to eat.”
I laugh. “Thanks. I didn’t forget just distracted.”
“Distracted by who?” he asks with a teasing eyebrow raise.
I bite my lip, a little caught. “Uh, just people and you know, school stuff.”
He grins knowingly but doesn’t push and I appreciate he’s not trying to pry or flirt. We talk for a while, swapping little stories about classes, homework disasters, and teachers’ quirks. Max has a way of making me feel lighter less like I’m carrying everything on my shoulders. By the end of lunch, I realize something important. Max doesn’t complicate my feelings for Luca. He’s a solid, normal, human friend in a world where danger and secrecy are the default. And right now, that’s exactly what I need.
That evening, my phone buzzes with group chat messages from Nora and one from Max.
Nora: Star sighting 🍿
Me: What?
Nora: Max talking to you = academic phenomenon
Max: Hey Aria. A few of us are grabbing snacks tomorrow after school. You’re welcome to join.
I hesitate a little before typing back.
Me: I’d like that. Thanks.
Max replies with a smiley face and for the first time in days, I breathe a little easier. Normalcy isn’t something I often get. And now, it feels possible.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
Max is NOT a love interest. I promise you, my lovelies. Nah, we already have our hot, brooding werewolf Luca. Max is here to give Aria something she desperately needs right now: a normal, steady, human friend. Someone who notices, cares, and supports without wanting anything in return.
Every story needs a character like that and sometimes the best friendships are the ones that quietly save you.