THEY ARE JUST MYTH

There’s a special kind of chaos that comes from being late. Not fashionably late though, I mean sprint-down-the-hall-while-your-heart-beats-like-a-jackhammer kind of late. And that was exactly the mood I was in when I spotted Mia standing at the front steps, waving her arms like a human windmill.

“Finally!” she yelled, shoving a breakfast bar into her mouth mid-sentence. “I was starting to think you died.”

“Not yet,” I panted, slowing my jog as I reached her. “But if I have to run any further, that might actually change.”

“Running’s good for you,” she teased, tossing her hair dramatically.

“So is shutting up,” I shot back, grinning myself an loving this.

She gasped in fake offense. “That’s rude!, I am a morning sunshine incarnate.”

“You’re morning nuisance incarnate,” I corrected.

Before she could fire back, Jonah joined us, earbuds dangling from his neck and that lazy smirk plastered across his face,the one that made teachers think he didn’t care and made girls line up like he was the last donut at a bake sale. hmph pathetic I don't even know what they saw in him though.

“Nice shirt you got there,” he said, nodding toward me.

I glanced down at the bold white letters stretched across my chest: HATE ALL FUCKERS.

“You like it?” I said. “I wore it just to make you uncomfortable.”

“And It’s working,” he deadpanned, then smirked. “Principal’s gonna love that one.”

“Eh,” I shrugged. “Add it to my ever-growing list of disciplinary warnings.”

Mia was laughing so hard she nearly dropped her bag. “You’re gonna get expelled for your wardrobe alone.”

“Honestly? Worth it,” I said.

We spent the next few minutes loitering by the entrance, trading insults and laughing way too loudly for people who were already late. It felt easy you know the kind of stupid, warm chaos that only existed when the three of us were together, Until the final bell rang and it came crashing down at us how late we were.

“Shit,” Jonah muttered.

“That’s the second bell,” Mia said, eyes wide. “We’re so screwed.”

“There’s only one way to handle this,” I said, adjusting my backpack. “With dignity and grace.”

“Meaning?” Jonah asked.

“Run.”

And that's what we did.

We shoved past the double doors, sprinting down the empty hallway, our footsteps echoing like gunshots. By the time we reached our classroom, we were breathless and laughing, still half-running when Jonah practically shoved me through the door.

“Nice of you to join us, Miss Lilian” Mr. Levinson said from the front of the room, with his eyebrow arched.

“Traffic,” I wheezed.

“On foot?” he asked.

“Terrible this time of day.”

A few students snickered as we slid into our seats. Mr. Levinson sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, but he didn’t lecture us like he would which meant we were in the clear, at least for now.

“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands once to get the students attention back. “Today we’re doing something different. We’re having a debate.”

A collective groan rippled through the room mine wasn't an exception, this man is just annoying.

“On what?” someone asked.

“Whether or not vampires exist.”

I snoffed, “You’re joking.”

“Dead serious,” Mr. Levinson said. “Half the class will argue for their existence, half against, choose the groupyou wanna join be fast please, and Lilian…” — his eyes scanned the list while I just stared “you’re arguing against.”

“Good,” I said immediately grinning back at him. “Because that’s easy.”

Jonah leaned over from the next desk. “You sure you don’t wanna be on the losing team?”

“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “Vampires are just stories, like the tooth fairy or good cafeteria food.”

The debate started fifteen minutes later, and I was in my element. I didn’t just argue, I performed and screamed if I have to… these people gotta wake up for Christ sake we are on the twenty-first century and they are this dumb.

“They’re myths!” I shouted, gesturing wildly like some caffeinated lawyerwhich i was, hehe “Written centuries ago by people who were scared of the dark and needed something to blame their nightmares on!”

“Or,” countered a boy from the other team, “Maybe they’re real and living among us.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I was sure they’d stick. “Yeah, sure maybe and I’m secretly a mermaid, What exactly is your point?”

Mia, bless her chaotic soul for me please, backed me up with equal intensity. “If vampires were real, don’t you think we’d, I don’t know, notice people being drained of blood? Like, that’d probably make the news.”

“Exactly!” I said, slamming my palm on the desk. “Vampires don’t exist. End of story.” sue me if you have to.

By the time the debate ended, my voice was hoarse from shouting, and Mia was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

“Remind me never to get in an argument with you please,” Jonah muttered as we walked out of class.

“Too late,” I said with a grin. “We argue every day.”

“And somehow,” Mia chimed in, “we’re still friends.”

“Miracles happen you never know,” I said.

The rest of the school day blurred into a predictable routine like always more classes, more sarcasm, more pointless hallway gossip. It wasn’t until the final bell rang that the world finally slowed down.

“Coffee time?” Mia asked as we exited the building.

“Coffee time,” I confirmed.

She waved goodbye, heading in the opposite direction while I made my usual trek toward Ace’s. My legs already ached, but the thought of earning a paycheck and not having to explain myself to some foster family kept me moving.

The shop was a fifteen-minute walk from school, tucked between a bookstore and a laundromat. The bell above the door chimed as I stepped inside, and the familiar scent of roasted beans hit me like a hug. hmm this is heaven

“Evening, Lilian,” Mr. Rourke called from behind the counter.

“Evening, boss,” I said, forcing a smile.

I slipped behind the counter, tossing my bag under the shelf and reaching for the apron that hung on the hook, the same faded brown one I’d tied around my waist a thousand times before, It was like a muscle memory now. Tie the straps, roll the sleeves, pull my hair into a messy bun. Barista mode: activated. check!.

The first rush hit within minutes, a woman in a business suit ordered a double espresso with oat milk. A group of teenagers asked for caramel frappes with extra whipped cream while a guy who looked like he hadn’t slept in three days mumbled something about a black coffee “strong enough to kill a horse.”

“Rough day, huh?” I asked, sliding his drink across the counter.

“Week,” he muttered.

“Welcome to the club, bro.”

The hours blurred into one endless stream of orders, foam, and caffeine-fueled chatter. But despite the exhaustion, there was something comforting about the routine, the hiss of the espresso machine, the rhythmic clink of cups against the counter, the murmur of conversation filling the shop.

“Table four needs a refill,” Mr. Rourke called out.

“On it sir,” I said automatically, grabbing the pot and weaving through the maze of tables with practiced ease. I refilled mugs, wiped down counters, smiled when necessary. It was work, but it was my work and my choice, My independence.

By the time the clock hit 10 p.m., the last customer had left, and the shop was finally quiet. I wiped the final streak of milk foam from the counter and untied my apron, tossing it onto the hook.

“Good job tonight,” Mr. Rourke said, locking the register.

“Thank you sir,” I said, stifling a yawn. “See you tomorrow?”

“Same time,” he said with a smile and waved me off.

I grabbed my bag and stepped out into the cool night air, pulling my jacket tighter around me. The streets were mostly empty now, save for a few distant headlights and the hum of a streetlight flickering above.

The alley was just ahead, the same one I always took as a shortcut. It was narrow, dim, and tucked between two crumbling brick buildings. It should’ve been creepy, but after walking it every night, it was as familiar as my own hallway.

“Let’s get this over with,” I muttered, adjusting my backpack.

I broke into a light jog as I turned down the alley, sneakers slapping softly against the concrete. The night air was crisp, and somewhere far off, a siren wailed. It was all so normal.

Too normal that I didn’t notice the shadow that slipped across the far end of the alley. I didn’t see the shape that moved with inhuman speed.

Because why would I?

Monsters weren’t real, At least… that’s what I believed to keep myself sane.