Chapter 4 Hallways and Heartbeats
School had never felt safe, but today it felt worse.
The bell rang loudly, slicing through my thoughts as I stepped onto campus.
Students flooded the courtyard, laughing, pushing each other playfully, and talking about homework and parties like the world hadn’t almost swallowed me whole last night, like monsters didn’t exist, or like forests didn’t whisper your name when you weren’t ready to listen.
I tightened my grip on my backpack and kept my head down.
Pretend everything is fine, and blend in, so you can survive the day.
That had always been my rule.
But something had changed. I could feel it in the way my skin tingled, in the way sounds felt louder, and emotions sharper.
Even the air felt heavier, as if I was walking through water instead of space.
“Hey, look who survived another day.”
I froze.
The voice came from behind me, sweet, fake, and sharp around the edges. Mara. Queen of Crescent Valley High. Perfect hair, perfect smile, and perfect cruelty.
Her friends stood on both sides beside her like loyal shadows, her eyes bright with anticipation.
I didn’t turn around. I kept walking.
Big mistake.
She stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Wow,” she said, looking me up and down. “You look… tired. Rough night?”
Laughter followed. Quiet but deliberate.
I felt it then, a flicker inside my chest.
Not anger, not fear, it was something deeper. Something that I wanted to push back. My fingers twitched.
Don’t.
I forced my hands to stay still.
“I’m late,” I said, with a flat voice.
Mara tilted her head. “Funny. You’re always late. Almost like you don’t want to be here.”
Almost like I don’t belong.
She leaned closer. “You know, people talk. About how weird you are. Always alone. Always disappearing. Makes you wonder what you’re hiding.”
My stomach tightened. For a split second, the hallway blurred with faces melting into shadows, the echo of a growl brushing my ears.
I stepped back.
“Leave her alone.”
The voice wasn’t loud, but it was firm.
Everything stopped instantly.
I looked up.
Him.
Kai stood a few feet away, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his posture relaxed but alert. He didn’t look angry.
That somehow made it worse. His gaze was steady and unreadable; it was fixed on Mara like she was a minor inconvenience.
Mara scoffed. “And you are?”
“Someone who doesn’t like bullies,” he said simply.
A few students nearby slowed, pretending not to listen. Mara’s smile sharpened.
“This doesn’t concern you.”
Kai’s eyes flicked to me. Just for a second.
Something passed between us, recognition, tension, and something unsaid.
“It does,” he said.
Silence stretched.
Finally, Mara rolled her eyes. “Whatever.
Come on.” She brushed past me, hitting my shoulder hard enough to make it ache, then disappeared down the hallway with her friends.
The crowd moved again. Noise returned.
Normal life snapped back into place.
But I couldn’t breathe.
I turned to Kai. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
That startled me.
We stood there, awkward and too close, the hallway buzzing around us. I noticed things I hadn’t before, the faint scar near his jaw, the way his eyes seemed too focused, like he was always watching for something.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded too quickly. “Fine.”
Lie.
He didn’t push. Instead, he stepped aside. “Walk with me.”
It wasn’t a question.
We moved together down the hallway, not touching, but aware of every inch of space between us. My heart beat faster with each step.
“You disappeared last night,” he said quietly.
I stiffened. “You followed me?”
“I protected you,” he corrected.
I stopped walking. “From what?”
He hesitated. Just a fraction. “Not here.”
Of course.
We reached our classrooms. Mine first. I turned to face him, with frustration buzzing under my skin.
“You can’t just show up, scare me half to death, then pretend everything’s normal,” I said.
His gaze softened. “Nothing is normal anymore, Luna.”
Hearing my name from his mouth sent a strange shiver through me.
Before I could respond, the bell rang.
“After school,” he said. “By the stands.”
I opened my mouth to argue, I wanted to say no, to say I didn’t want answers that would tear my life apart, but he was already walking away.
The rest of the day dragged.
Teachers talked. Pens scratched. Students whispered. But I couldn’t focus. My thoughts kept circling back to the forest. To the monster. To Kai’s calm voice cutting through my fear.
Why him?
Why me?
By the time the final bell rang, my nerves were stretched thin.
I almost didn’t go.
But my feet carried me there anyway.
The bleachers were mostly empty, bathed in late afternoon light. I sat on the lowest step, hugging my knees, watching shadows stretch across the field.
“You came.”
I looked up.
Kai stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, his expression was unreadable.
“I don’t know why,” I said honestly.
He sat beside me, not too close. “Because you feel it too.”
I swallowed. “Feel what?”
“That you’re not meant to be ordinary.”
The word hit harder than I expected.
“My parents died because of something ordinary,” I said quietly. “A car. Rain. A road.”
Kai didn’t interrupt.
“I survived by being invisible,” I continued. “By being alone. I don’t want… whatever this is.”
He turned to me then, really looked at me. “I know.”
That scared me more than anything.
“You don’t get to decide that anymore,” he said gently. “Something has already chosen you.”
The wind picked up, rustling the field, carrying a familiar hum that made my skin tingle.
“What are you?” I whispered.
His jaw tightened. “Someone who’s trying not to fall for someone he’s supposed to protect.”
My breath caught.
The air between us changed, it felt heavy, charged, and dangerous.
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then stood quickly.
“They’re watching,” he said.
“Who are they?”
He met my eyes, something dark and protective burning there. “That’s what you’ll learn next.”
Then he walked away, leaving me on the stands with a
racing heart, unanswered questions, and the terrifying realization that this wasn’t just about monsters anymore.
It was about him.
And whatever was slowly, dangerously, pulling us together.