Aria.
Monday morning came too fast. I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, staring at the girl who looks back at me. Same messy brown hair, same tired eyes behind thick glasses, same invisible girl who got destroyed in the library three days ago. "You can do this," I whisper to my reflection. "Just get through the day." But the moment I step into Silverridge Academy's halls, I know it's going to be hell. "Hey, look who it is," Tyler calls out from near the lockers. "Library girl." My stomach drops. I kep`t my head down and walked faster, but their laughter followed me like a shadow. "I heard she asked Storm for his autograph," someone else says, loud enough for half the hallway to hear. "No way. Really?" "Yeah, totally threw herself at him. So embarrassing." The lies spread like wildfire. By the second period, everyone thinks I'm some desperate stalker who begged Jace Storm for attention. The truth doesn't matter. It never does. In English class, I slide into my usual back-row seat and pull out my notebook. Maybe if I focus on Shakespeare, I can forget about everything else. "Rough weekend, Vale?" I look up to find Jace standing beside my desk. My heart stops. He's wearing a black t-shirt that shows off his athletic build, and his green eyes are studying me like I'm some kind of interesting bug. "I don't know what you mean," I whispered. "Sure, you don't." He leans against my desk, and I catched that expensive cologne again. "I heard you've been telling people we talked." "I didn't tell anyone anything." "Right." His smile is cold, predatory. "Just so we're clear, what happened in the library? That was nothing. You are nothing. Got it.?" The words slice through me, but before I can respond, Mrs. Patterson walks in. "Mr. Storm, please take your seat," she says. Jace straightens up, but not before whispering, "Remember what I said." I spent the rest of class trying not to cry. I didn't even know Jace from anywhere and wasn't planning to. Why is he trying to make it feel like I'm forcing myself on him. At lunch, I find my usual corner table in the cafeteria. I'm halfway through my sandwich when I overheard the conversation at the popular table. "I'm telling you, he was arrested," Jessica Williams' voice came hushed, but still audible. "My dad's a cop. He said Jace Storm has a record." "What kind of record?" her friend asked. "Something bad. Really bad. They moved him here from some boarding school after he got kicked out." "That makes him even hotter," another girl sighs. I listen despite myself. What did Jace do? And why doesn't anyone seem to care? "My cousin lives in his old town," Tyler chimes in from the next table. "Said weird stuff happened when he was there. Like, really weird. People getting hurt in ways that didn't make sense." "You're full of it," someone laughs. "Am I? Ask him about the scars on his back sometime." Scars? What scars? I'm so lost in thought that I didn't notice Jace approaching until he's standing right next to me. "Enjoying your meal, library girl?" I look up, and my blood immediately turned ice. He's holding a cup of chocolate milk, and there's something dangerous in his eyes. "Please don't," I whispered. "Don't what?" He tilts his head, pretending to be confused. "Whatever you're thinking of doing." "I'm not thinking of doing anything." He pauses, then "accidentally" bumps the table. The content of his cup tips over, spilling all over my lunch, my books, my lap. "Oops," he says with fake concern. "How clumsy of me." The entire cafeteria erupts in laughter. I just sat there, soaked in chocolate milk, while everyone points and whispers. Jace just stood there, watching me with those cold green eyes. "You should be more careful where you sit," he says quietly, so only I can hear. "Accidents happen around me." Then he walks away, leaving me sitting in the mess he created. If this is how it feels to be noticed, then I don't want. The rest of the day is torture. People make jokes about the "milk incident" everywhere I go. By the time gym class rolls around, I'm ready to disappear forever. "Alright, ladies," Coach Rivera shouts. "We're running the mile today. No exceptions." I hate running. I'm terrible at it, and it gives everyone another chance to watch me fail. But I line up with the other girls anyway. We started jogging around the track, and I immediately fell behind. My lungs burned, my legs felt like lead, and the other girls lap me before I'm even halfway done. "Come on, Vale!" Coach Rivera yells. "Push yourself!" I try to run faster, but something's wrong. Really wrong. Pain shoots through my chest like lightning. Not normal running pain or something else. Something that makes my vision blur and my skin feel like it's on fire. I stumble, gasping for air. "I can't…I can't." I start to say, but the words died in my throat. The pain gets worse as it spreads through my whole body, starting from my chest and racing outward like electricity. I look down at my arms and nearly scream. My veins are glowing. Bright blue light pulses under my skin, following the path of my blood vessels. It's beautiful and terrifying at the same time. "What's happening to me?" I whisper. The world spins. The track tilts sideways then I heard screaming of mine or someone else's, I can't tell. And just then, everything went blank. *** I woke up slowly, like swimming up from the bottom of a deep, dark pool. My head felt like someone hit it with a hammer, and my mouth tastes like cotton. "She's awake." That voice. I know that voice. I force my eyes open and find myself staring at the ceiling of the nurse's office. The fluorescent lights were too bright, making my head throb worse. "How are you feeling, dear?" Nurse Campbell asked, appearing in my line of sight. "Dizzy," I croak. "What happened?" "You fainted during gym class. Gave everyone quite a scare." Fainted? That's what they think happened. But I remember the glowing veins, the electric pain. That wasn't fainting. "I should call your parents," Nurse Campbell says, reaching for the phone. "That's not necessary." The voice came from the corner of the room, and my blood freezed. I turned my head and saw Jace Storm sitting in a chair by the window. His green eyes are fixed on me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. "Why are you here?" I whisper. Nurse Campbell looks between us, confused. "Mr. Storm carried you here after you collapsed. Very heroic of him." Heroic? This is the same boy who humiliated me with chocolate milk three hours ago. "I should go," I said, trying to sit up, but Jace stands and crosses the room in two quick steps. "No," he said, his hand gently but firmly pushing me back down. "You need to rest." His touch sends shockwaves through my skin. Not painful like before, but something else. Something that makes every nerve in my body light up. "I'll stay with her," he tells Nurse Campbell. "To make sure she's okay." "That's very sweet of you, Mr. Storm. I need to file some paperwork. Can you watch her for a few minutes?" "Of course." The nurse leaves, and suddenly we're alone in the bay. Jace moved his chair closer to my bed, his eyes never leaving my face. "What do you want?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. He leans forward, so close I can feel his breath on my cheek. "You felt it, didn't you?" he says quietly. "The power." "I don't know what you're talking about." "The glowing. The pain. The electricity in your veins." His eyes are intense, almost glowing themselves. "I know because I felt it too. The moment you changed." Changed? What is he talking about? He reaches out and touches my hand. The moment our skin connects, that electric feeling shoots through me again. But this time, it doesn't hurt. This time, it feels like coming home. "You're mine now," he whispers, his voice different than I've ever heard it. Possessive. Dangerous. Almost hungry. "What do you mean?" His smile is sharp, predatory. "You'll understand soon enough, Aria Vale. We're connected now. Whether you like it or not." The way he said my name makes my heart race for all the wrong reasons. "Connected how?" But before he can answer, Nurse Campbell came back into the room. "How is she doing?" she asked. "Better," Jace replied, but his eyes never left mine. "Much better." I want to ask a thousand questions, but something in his expression tells me to wait, to be patient and not just that, to be scared.Aria.Three days. That's how long I last on my own before everything goes to hell.I'm staying in a cheap motel outside the city, paying cash and using a fake name. The room smells like cigarettes and broken dreams, but it's better than going home and pretending my life is normal.I spend my time researching. The motel has terrible wifi, but I manage to find scattered information about supernatural bloodlines and ancient magic. Most of it sounds like fantasy novel garbage, but some things make my skin crawl with recognition.The First Blood. The Ancients. Children of the moon and stars who walked the earth before humans learned to make fire.According to one website that looks like it was made in 1995, they were the original supernatural beings. Gods, almost. They created other species as servants, werewolves to hunt, vampires to feed, witches to work magic.But something went wrong. The servants rebelled. The Ancients disappeared, leaving only their mixed-blood descendants scattered
Aria.I didn't go to school the next day or the day after that.I sat in my room, staring at the runes that appear and disappear on my skin like some twisted magic trick. Sometimes they glow bright silver. Sometimes they fade until I can barely see them. But they're always there, reminding me that my life is no longer normal.Mom thinks I have the flu so I let her believe it.On Wednesday, a knock came to my bedroom door."Aria, honey? You have a visitor," Mom called.My stomach immediately dropped. I have never had any visitor before. Please don't let it be Jace. I'm not ready to face him yet."Who is it?" I asked."A boy from school. Says his name is Tyler?"Tyler? What does Tyler want with me?I dragged myself downstairs, still in my pajamas and oversized hoodie. Tyler is standing in our living room, looking uncomfortable and out of place among Mom's antique furniture."Hey," he says when he saw me."What do you want?" I don't have the energy to be polite."Jace sent me." He repli
Aria."You're insane," I whisper, staring at Jace like he's grown a second head.He just sat there, calm as can be, watching me with those predatory green eyes. Like what he just said makes perfect sense. Like telling someone they're "yours" is totally normal."Am I?" he asks, tilting his head. "Look at your hands, Aria."I glance down at my hands resting on the white nurse's office sheets. They look normal. Pale, shaky, but normal."I don't see anything.""Look closer."Something in his voice makes me obey. I hold my hands up to the fluorescent light, turning them over. For a split second, I swear I saw something. A faint shimmer under my skin, like moonlight on water.Then it's gone."You're messing with me," I said with anger bubbling up in my chest. "This is just another way to humiliate me, isn't it? Get the weird girl to believe in fairy tales."Jace leans back in his chair, and for the first time since I've known him, he looks hurt. Actually hurt."You think this is a game?""Y
Aria.Monday morning came too fast. I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, staring at the girl who looks back at me. Same messy brown hair, same tired eyes behind thick glasses, same invisible girl who got destroyed in the library three days ago."You can do this," I whisper to my reflection. "Just get through the day."But the moment I step into Silverridge Academy's halls, I know it's going to be hell."Hey, look who it is," Tyler calls out from near the lockers. "Library girl."My stomach drops. I kep`t my head down and walked faster, but their laughter followed me like a shadow."I heard she asked Storm for his autograph," someone else says, loud enough for half the hallway to hear."No way. Really?""Yeah, totally threw herself at him. So embarrassing."The lies spread like wildfire. By the second period, everyone thinks I'm some desperate stalker who begged Jace Storm for attention. The truth doesn't matter. It never does.In English class, I slide into my usual back-row seat an
Aria.The library is my sanctuary. Tucked away in my corner booth by the tall windows, I can watch the world of Silverridge Academy pass by without anyone noticing me. Students rush past with their designer bags and perfect smiles, their laughter echoing through the marble halls like music I've never learned to play."Another thrilling Friday night planned, I see," I whispered to myself, adjusting my thick-rimmed glasses as I highlight another passage in my Advanced Literature textbook. The yellow marker has become my best friend over the years, reliable, quiet, and never judgmental.I've perfected the art of being invisible. I sit in the back row of every class, never raise my hand unless directly called upon, and eat lunch alone while buried in whatever book can transport me far away from this place. It's easier this way. Safer too."Aria Vale." I practice saying my own name sometimes, just to remember what it sounds like. Most days, I wonder if I disappeared entirely, would anyone