Chapter 94 Something Normal Breaks
Luna’s POV
By the third period, I was almost convinced that yesterday didn’t exist. Almost.
It was easier to focus on the board than the gaps in my memory, and easier to copy notes than to think about things I couldn’t explain without sounding insane.
Solve for x. Balance the equation, and act normal. That last one was the hardest.
I kept my eyes on the paper, pretending the pen in my hand mattered more than anything else in my life, but it didn’t. Nothing did, really.
Not when I could still feel Kai’s voice in my head like it had been branded there.
Not when Ethan’s stare still lingered at the back of my thoughts like a warning I didn’t fully understand. “Luna.”
I blinked. The teacher was standing beside my desk. I hadn’t noticed him moving.
“You’re drifting,” he said, not unkindly. “Everything okay?”
Every instinct in me wanted to say yes. Automatically, cleanly, and easily.
“I’m fine,” I said instead.
He studied me for a second longer than necessary. Then nodded. “Try to stay with us.”
I nodded back, but my grip on the pen tightened. Stay with us.
Like I was ever really here. The bell rang too loudly and students pushed out of the classroom in a rush of chairs scraping and voices rising.
I stayed seated for a moment longer. Just breathing and just existing.
Then I stood and followed the crowd. Hallway noise swallowed me immediately.
Lockers slammed. Someone laughed too hard at something that wasn’t funny. A group of girls blocked half the corridor taking pictures like the school was a backdrop instead of a place.
Everything felt… ordinary. Painfully ordinary.
Which somehow made it worse.
“Hey.”
I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Ethan fell into step beside me anyway. “You left class early,” he said.
“It ended early.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I sighed. “Ethan…”
“I’m not arguing,” he said quickly. “Just… checking.”
That surprised me, then I glanced at him. He looked the same as always…focused, serious, and too observant for his own good…but there was something slightly off today and less intense. More… tired.
“You’re staring,” I said.
He blinked once. “Sorry.”
Silence stretched between us for a few steps. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Just unfamiliar.
“I’m okay,” I added quietly.
He didn’t respond immediately. That was becoming a pattern.
Eventually, he said, “You don’t have to keep saying that.”
I frowned. “What?”
“‘I’m okay,’” he repeated. “You say it like it’s supposed to convince me.”
I stopped walking. So did he, then we stood in the middle of the hallway while people moved around us like water avoiding a rock.
“I am okay,” I said, slower now.
Ethan studied me. Then nodded once. “Alright.”
That should’ve ended it. But it didn’t. Because neither of us moved.
“I missed breakfast,” he said suddenly.
I blinked. “Okay?”
“There’s a place near the cafeteria. We can get something.”
It wasn’t a question. It was an offer and that was normal and simple. Almost awkward. I hesitated. “I’m not hungry.”
“You don’t have to be hungry,” he said. “Just come.”
Something about the way he said it made it sound less like an invitation and more like a decision he had already made.
I sighed again. “Fine.”
He nodded like that settled something important.
Then we walked. The cafeteria was loud in the way cafeterias always were, too many conversations happening at once, trays clattering, chairs dragging across the floor.
Ethan led me past it to a smaller corner booth near the vending machines. It was quieter there and almost hidden. He bought two drinks from the machine without asking me what I wanted.
Then he handed me one. I looked at it. “You guessed wrong,” I said.
He paused. “You didn’t tell me what you like.”
“I don’t drink this.”
“Then don’t drink it.”
I stared at him. That almost made me smile. Almost.
I took it anyway, then we sat. For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Just the sound of distant chatter fills the space between us.
Then Ethan leaned back slightly. “You’re thinking too much,” he said.
I huffed lightly. “That’s rich coming from you.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he said, “What are you thinking about?”
Everything. Nothing. Too much, then I shrugged. “School.”
That wasn’t a lie. Just not the whole truth. Ethan nodded slowly like he didn’t believe me but wasn’t going to push. That felt… new.
Usually, he pushed. “Do you ever feel like,” I started, then stopped.
He waited, then I looked down at the drink in my hands. “It doesn’t matter,” I finished.
“It does,” he said immediately.
I exhaled. Why was I even talking? “I just feel like I’m missing something,” I admitted quietly.
Ethan didn’t respond right away. That silence again. It was careful and measured.
Finally, he said, “Missing something like what?”
I shrugged. “Like I walked into a story halfway through and everyone else knows the beginning except me.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s a normal feeling,” he said.
I looked at him. “That’s your answer?”
“It’s not an answer,” he corrected. “It’s a possibility.”
I laughed once, short and dry. “You’re terrible at comforting people.”
“I’m not trying to comfort you,” he said.
That made me pause, then he leaned forward slightly. “I’m trying to understand you.” That landed differently, too direct and too honest.
I shifted in my seat. “Why?” I asked carefully.
Ethan held my gaze and for a moment, he looked like he was going to say something important. Something heavy. But then…The moment broke and he leaned back again. “Because you’re important in whatever’s happening,” he said simply.
Of course. Of course that was it. I looked away. “Right.”
A beat passed and then Ethan said, “That’s not all.”
I glanced at him again. He didn’t elaborate, he just watched me like he was measuring something he couldn’t quite name. The air between us changed slightly, it was not tense. It was just… aware.
A sound interrupted us, and a chair scraping nearby. We both turned.
A group of students had taken the booth across from us without us noticing, laughing, talking, and acting normal. One of them caught my eye briefly. Then looked away. It was just another girl sitting in a cafeteria booth. Nothing special and nothing unusual.
I exhaled. Maybe Ethan was right, maybe I really was just overthinking everything and maybe there was no missing piece. No hidden story.
No…
“Luna.”
I looked back at him. Ethan had gone still.
“Yeah?”
He hesitated. Then said, “After school. We need to talk.”
My stomach tightened slightly. “About what?”
He didn’t answer immediately, he just studied me again and then said, “About what you’re not seeing.”
That again, then I set the drink down. “I’m seeing everything just fine.”
Ethan shook his head slightly. “No,” he said quietly. “You’re not.”
The bell rang again, too loud and too sudden. Students started moving, their noise rising and the moment breaking apart like it always did.
Ethan stood first. I followed, then we walked out together, back into the hallway that suddenly felt too bright, too full, and too real. At the door, he stopped.
“Don’t go anywhere alone after school,” he said.
I frowned. “That’s not how life works.”
“It is today.”
I stared at him. He wasn’t joking. I sighed. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Maybe,” he admitted. Then added, softer, “Just listen this time.”
I didn’t respond. Because I didn’t have a good reason to agree. Or disagree. So I just walked past him. Down the hall, back into the noise, back into normal. But even as I tried to blend into it again…
Something in me felt like it had shifted slightly. Not broken and not dangerous. It was just… off. Like a small detail had been changed, I
In a picture, I was supposed to recognize. And I couldn’t tell what it was.
Only that I was starting to notice it. And once you notice something like that…
You can’t unsee it.