~005: heightened sense

Calla

I manage to drag my jelly leg to my apartment… sighing as I dump my bag on the floor. Yeah, today was hectic. I wonder if he’s okay. I sit on my bed, my back finally hitting the mattress. My mind trails back to him, hallucinating? I swear I saw it. But if Blaire says nobody saw anything including Casen who was kneeling beside him then I guess it was the adrenaline messing with my head.

I stare at the ceiling. My limbs feel like mashed potatoes. There’s still dirt on my shoes. Whatever. They’re staying on.

I turn to the side and immediately catch a sharp, peppery scent that stings the inside of my nose like someone lit a cologne stick right under my nostrils.

“Agh—Ava!” I sneeze hard and sit up immediately, my head snapping to the door. “God, were you just bathing in cologne out there?!”

No answer.

But the scent lingers—burning, aggressive, like her entire body passed through a perfume cloud and left a trail of horror in its wake. My nose wrinkles. I grab my hoodie sleeve and press it against my face. The windows are shut. Where the hell is it coming from?

Exactly one minute later, the door swings open and there she is—my drama queen roommate—with her overlined lips and a bottle of iced coffee that looks like it cost more than my phone bill.

“Why the hell does it smell like Dior crime scene in here?” I mutter under my breath, waving a hand in front of my face.

She gives me a blank look. “Excuse you?”

“You… were just at the door, weren’t you?” I ask, standing up slowly. “Like a minute ago. I could smell you.”

Ava blinks like she’s calculating whether I’ve gone insane. “Uh, no? I just walked up the stairs. I literally stopped at the flower shop downstairs to take a selfie.”

I squint at her, unconvinced. “So what? Your scent got here before you did?”

She shrugs. “I mean… my presence has always been strong. Can’t help it.”

I roll my eyes. Of course, she makes that a compliment to herself.

I reach for the window and crack it open, sucking in a deep breath of outside air—and regret it immediately. The alley behind our apartment complex has apparently turned into a full-on garbage warzone. The stench of warm trash, decaying leftovers, and a dead rodent or two hits my face like a slap.

“Jesus Christ,” I gag, slamming the window shut.

Ava raises an eyebrow. “You good?”

“No. No, I am not,” I say, holding my stomach. “I feel like I just sniffed death. Did they move the damn dumpster closer or what?”

She just sips her coffee and throws me a crooked smile. “C’mon. I need groceries. Walk with me. Maybe fresh air will fix your face.”

“I will slap you,” I mutter, but I reach for my keys anyway.

We head down the stairs, and by the time we hit the street, I already regret this decision. The whole block smells like cologne warfare and overflowing bins. I’m trying to breathe through my mouth, but even that feels like licking the scent.

Ava is bouncing beside me in full glam mode, practically strutting like she’s on a runway. Meanwhile, I’m dragging my feet, wearing the same hoodie I wore two days ago, and debating if I should tie my scarf around my face.

“God, why does everyone on this street have to smell like expired Axe body spray today?” I complain.

A guy in a tight black tee walks past us, and it gets worse. I literally choke. “Oh my god, I think my organs are shutting down.”

Ava snorts, amused, until she sees me stumble. “Wait—Calla?”

I blink. The sidewalk seems to shift a little. Like it’s melting under my feet. My vision swims for a second, and I stop walking.

“Calla, are you dizzy?” Ava’s tone goes from mocking to alarmed real fast. She grips my arm. “Hey. Don’t pass out. You don’t even look drunk. Don’t you dare pass out looking this sober.”

“I—” I grip her wrist tightly. “Everything smells so strong. My head’s spinning. I feel like I’m gonna—”

She doesn’t wait for the rest. She turns us around immediately. “Nope. We’re going home. Screw groceries. You’re about to drop like a malfunctioning SIM card.”

I don’t argue. I just let her lead me back, my legs wobbling like I ran a marathon with no lungs.

By the time we get back inside, I’m sweating. Not normal sweat—more like cold sweat, the kind that makes your shirt stick to your spine and your arms itch. I fall onto the couch and hug a throw pillow like it’s a life raft.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Ava demands, squatting in front of me. “Is this like a scent allergy or something? Puberty?”

I glare at her through squinted eyes. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“Honestly? You look like someone trying to pass a kidney stone through your brain.”

I want to laugh but my head hurts. “It’s not funny. Everything smells way too strong. Even you. No offense.”

“None taken, if I didn't know you were still a virgin I could have asked if you were preg—” I shoot her a glare, cutting her off.

She sits beside me, criss-cross, staring like she’s trying to diagnose me. “Maybe it’s stress? You’ve been wound up lately. Or you’re dehydrated. Did you even eat today?”

I groan. “I had fries from the school cafeteria. That counts.”

“No, it doesn’t. That’s sodium with trauma dressing.”

"Okay, okay!"I say as she turns already yanking off her jacket like maybe less fabric equals less scent. “Wait—did this start today?”

I nod my head. “Uhm, I think so. I noticed a strong scent hit my nose during practice, and I perceived it again on the Icewolves captain. Since it touched him, it’s like… it’s like my nose got plugged into a speaker.” I lay back and close my eyes.

She goes still. “Him?”

I don’t open my eyes. “Ronan.”

She raises both brows. “And you’re acting weird because… what? You’re emotionally invested in hockey now?”

I scoff, dragging a hand over my face. “Don’t be annoying.”

“I’m not. I’m just confused.” She flops down beside me on the bed, crossing her legs. “Because last I checked, you’re the least athletic person I know, and now you’re looking like someone snatched your soul at a hockey rink.”

I pause.

She leans in, eyes narrowing like she’s about to pounce. “Wait. Hold up. Something happened. Spill it.”

I hesitate, the words awkward in my mouth. “Well, when I was trying to help him as he collapsed, he suddenly held my waist and pulled me —"

“hmmm....And now you’re spiraling?”

I glare at her.

She grins. “So let me get this straight. You’re feeling off because you touched the hottest guy in school, captain of the hockey team, and now your hormones are like, ‘activate’?”

“No! Ava, it’s not that.”

“Uh-huh.” She smirks. “So you’re telling me this has nothing to do with the fact that the guy has cheekbones like he was carved by a Greek god?”

“Jeez, this is going nowhere, and for the love of God, go shower but don't use cologne." I groan, turning away from her.