HAYLEY.
Just then Axel breaks into a boyish, handsome smile; one that reminds me of the boy I grew up with. And just like that, any hint of weirdness I felt moments ago vanish. “We brought wine,” he beams, holding up a bottle wrapped in brown paper with a neat little ribbon. “Thank you, Axel.” His smile deepens as I say his name, and I feel a rush of nostalgia wash over me. The next moment, his hands are open and I'm embraced in a soft hug. As I lean into him with my head brushing his chest, I can't help but admire how well puberty has shaped his upper body. He feels solid—strong. We walk into my house and greetings pass between Axel and my mom. When we all get seated across the diner, plates of mashed potatoes and chicken go around, one for each person. “I don't see your Dad,” Axel whispers as we tuck in our chairs. “Oh, he's working late. Sorry,” I offer with a sympathetic look. He shrugs it off with yet another disarming smile, and somehow, my insides flutter. Across the table, Lucas chews a chicken hungrily and I realize then that Axel and I are the only ones not eating yet. I pick a knife and fork and offer them to him, but he's too engrossed in the conversation between my mom and Mrs Martinez to notice. So I slip them into his hand instead. And just then, the weirdest thing happens. Axel bolts upright like he's been electrocuted. The fork and knife clatter from his hand and his plate crashes to the floor. When I glance up at him, his face is drained of color. He's shaken, like he's just seen a ghost. The table falls silent as my mom and Mrs Martinez's small conversation fades abruptly. Even Lucas stops mid-chew. Axel turns to my mom. “I'm sorry, Mrs Anderson…I didn't mean—” “Oh, no, dear, it's alright. We'll get it cleaned up,” my mom answers softly as she rises from her chair. “It's no problem at all,” she adds with a warm smile. As she heads to the kitchen, my mom flashes me a confused look that seems to ask “what did you do?”. But I'm just as surprised as she is. And right then, the strange feeling I had on the porch settles over me again—the same one I felt when I noticed Axel's eyes. I try to wave it off, mouthing a small “sorry” to him as I help clean up. He apologizes as well and we share a faint smile. When he's given another plate, Axel quietly declines using the fork and knife I offered earlier. Or any cutlery at all. Instead, he reaches out for a spoon: a rubber spoon. I choose not to dwell on it, even if the odd feeling I have still lingers. The rest of dinner goes on well, with lighthearted conversations and a few laughs in between. When it's time for them to head home, I offer to walk with them and my mom agrees. Truth is, I just want some alone time with Axel. As we step down the porch and onto the street, I turn to him. “I heard about your parents, Ax. It was awful and I can't imagine what you went through.” I reach out and take his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so sorry.” “Thank you,” he smiles warmly. He turns to me and for a split second, I find myself staring at my childhood crush again. “It's so good to see you again.” His hand tightens around mine and my heart skips a beat. Without thinking, I reach for his other hand. And right then I feel it—his palm is scorching hot. I immediately flip it over, and under the streetlamp, I see a large red scar etched into his palm, like a burn mark. It looks fresh. “Axel... what happened to you?” I blurt out immediately. “It's nothing,” he answers, pulling his hand away from mine quickly. His eyes shift to Lucas, who’s now at the door, waiting for him. Taking the hint, I know it’s time to end the night. I take a deep breath, trying to mask the worry still gnawing at me. “It's really good to see you too, Axel,” I say, offering him a small smile. He looks at me briefly, then glances down at the ground before meeting my eyes again. “Mrs Martinez says I'll be starting school tomorrow, so I guess we'll be seeing each other a lot.” He breaks into a full smile again. “Thanks, for tonight, Hayley. Goodnight.” He turns away and starts walking towards the house. “Night, Ax,” I call after him softly. He gives me one last wave before heading inside with Lucas. As I walk back to my place, my mind struggles to adjust to how different Axel seems. The green eyes, the strange preference for rubber utensils, and that scar... My thoughts grind to a sudden halt. I realize it now. The scarred palm—it’s the same one he dropped the utensils from. But there’s no way the knife and fork could have caused that. They barely even brushed against his hand. I try adamantly to convince myself that he must have had the scar before he arrived. And yet, as I climb the steps to my door, I can’t shake the feeling that there's more to what I saw. The scar was fresh, like it just happened. Like it was a reaction. To silver.AXEL. “And that is why the human body does not—” DRRRRING! The loud ring of the school bell interrupts Mrs. Cooper’s biology reading, signaling the end of class. Finally free from her boring rendition of the human digestive system, students hastily stuff their books into their bags as chatter emanates all over the room. “That'll conclude our lesson for today,” she announces. “Now, kindly make your way to the library for our literature session.” Exhausted groans ripple through the class before students begin filing out one by one. Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I step into the hallway and start to head toward the library—until a firm hand seizes my shoulder. Startled, I turn around and my eyes land on Shane, alongside Rakim and Miles. He glances down the hall, waiting until Mrs. Cooper disappears around the corner before whispering in a low voice. “Follow me.” With that, he spins around and starts walking. “Hold on,” I call after him. “To where?” He turns back t
HAYLEY. Taken aback by the sight before me, I stand fixated by the door with my mouth gaping slightly in stunned surprise. The sheer contrast between what I thought could be an accident behind these doors a few seconds ago, and what I'm staring at has me gobsmacked. All that commotion… just for sex? Seriously? Ivy’s moans break my reverie, and just as quickly as I opened it, I slam the door shut before hurrying toward the stairs.So much for a party experience. An awkward mix of embarrassment and annoyance course through me as I slip out of the house and head for the gates, barely noticing the throng of people scattered along the path. I’m almost at the exit when a voice behind me calls out.“Hayley?”I whirl around to find Axel a few feet away. What in the world is he doing here? But I don't ask the question out loud. We both halt, sharing a mutual look of surprise at the unexpected sight of each other here.“Hi,” I murmur, sticking to the same hollow greeting that's become cus
HAYLEY. I would swear I hate parties. They’ve never, ever been my thing. Yet here I am, despite Corey’s best attempts to stop me, standing at the gates of a white, luxurious mansion for what Shane called a birthday party. I still can't wrap my head around why I’d obliged him. Perhaps it was because of how random the invitation had come—right after our biology practicals as a pair yesterday. Or maybe it was the thrill of pretending, just for once, that I could have a small slice of youthful, social living. But whatever it was, the feeling starts to dwindle as I approach the enormous doors. I can already feel the heavy thrum of music reverberating through the mansion’s walls. On getting to the door, I knock half-heartedly. Surely there’s no way anyone could hear a knock over the loud music pounding from inside the house. And just as I thought, no response comes. Idly standing on the porch now, my eyes take in the magnificence of the building. Draped in white and gold, the house c
AXEL. When Shane told me to meet him at a birthday party tonight, this was definitely not what I had imagined. I'd looked forward to a simple indoor gathering with a few people in attendance, tops. But not this crowded, all-out birthday bash here at Rakim’s. I glance at my watch for the upteenth time and it reads 8:30 p.m. Which means I've spent the past thirty minutes since I arrived here, vaguely waiting for Shane to show up. Taking another long look at the party all around me, I resign myself to go in search of him. But as I rise from the plush cushion where I’ve sat for the last half hour, I realize that finding Shane will be a much harder task than I anticipated. The sheer number of people in and around the house is just unbelievable. It's a crowd befitting a carnival to say the least. Slowly, I start to make my way through the spacious sitting room, observing the scenes around me as I scan for any sign of Shane. There's a rowdy ping pong game being played at the
AXEL. “Dude I'm telling you, I really think she’s into me too.” For what feels like the hundredth time, I roll my eyes at Lucas’s excitement. “I hear you, bro. You scored,” I cheer for him, tossing an arm over his shoulder. “I gotta be grateful to you though,” he grins, turning to face me. “Thank God you didn’t let me partner with you.” A cunning sneer starts to curl on his lips. “Be honest, there's no way you would’ve identified that organ,” he sniggers, throwing his head back in laughter. “Ha-ha,” I mutter sarcastically as I push him away, holding back my amusement. It's almost sunset when we step outside to join the crowd of students already heading home. We’re almost at the garage when a sleek, white car pulls up to the curb, just in time to collect its usual passengers: the Watson twins. A elderly chauffeur steps out and quickly opens the back door for the girls, bowing his head slightly. Ivy climbs in first without as much as a glance to the chauffeur. But just
AXEL. Beads of sweat starts to form on my brow as my eyes shift from the scalpel to Ivy, and back to the scalpel. Contact with silver is death sentence for any werewolf and I know I can’t touch the scalpel. Perhaps I could hold it for a few seconds at best, but even then, it'll burn fast and hard. Mrs. Cooper clears her throat, signaling her presence next to us. “Is everything alright over here?” “Yes, Mrs. Cooper,” Ivy answers in a soft, cheery voice—nothing like the abrasive tone she'd used moments ago. “We're making significant progress,” she adds, lightly tapping her goggles and flashing a bright smile. Mrs. Cooper nods in satisfaction and continues down the row. As soon as she’s gone, Ivy glares at me again, her eyes urging me toward the scalpel. I try to reason with her. “Listen Ivy, I can’t do it. Whatever you’ve read about werewolves and silver, they're—” “Perhaps I should tell the whole class what I saw," she cuts me off. "Starting with Mrs. Cooper.” Immediate