Chapter 3: The Cold One

Shylie could feel a twinge of astonishment. Homemade. She could recall a few foods that were homemade in her life before.

"I don't need your charity," Shylie replied, but accepted the box regardless. It was warm, and that felt nice. It was a nice weight in her hands.

Darren reclined in his chair. Watching her like he was trying to get through a mask, or something close to that. "You're not like the other kids, Shylie." He said quietly. "You stare right through the crap like you've been through it already."

Shylie didn't say anything. She kept quiet. If only he knew.

The hallway was abuzz with energy as the midterm rankings were revealed. Students clustered around the bulletin board pointing, whispering, and criticizing as they read the list of names.

GPA Ranking: 

Shylie Reed (Junior)

Leah Carter (Senior)

Darren Tan (Senior)

Whispers and gasps met the list.

"Shylie is beating seniors?"

"Who the hell is she?"

"How could Leah lose her perfect streak?"

Leah's eyes were cold, but her fingers clenched into fists, her smile dissipated as her perfect legacy crumbled.

Later that day during the school assembly, Principal Carver made an announcement.

"This year's Spring Showcase will be more competitive than ever. The top performing students will be providing projects and performances to highlight their achievements. As always, we demand excellence."

Shylie didn't flinch. She felt nothing. It was just another battle. She played the piano for comfort in her life before. She played the piano as a weapon now.

As the bell rang, ending the school day, Shylie's homeroom teacher slipped a form under her nose. "It's recommended you skip 11th grade," her teacher said in a low voice, "pending the Showcase and an interview."

Shylie smirked. A rush of victory went through her veins. She suppressed it. She kept her face impassive. She was one step closer now.

"Oh. One more thing." The teacher continued, speaking in an even lower voice. "You will be assigned a senior as your partner for the upcoming school project…" The teacher's hand gestured to a line on the form."… Darren Tan."

Shylie's eyes barely twitched as she glanced at the paper.

Soon enough she would be sitting next to Darren. As his equal.

The game had just begun. 

Saturday – Tan Residence.

The cab rolled to a stop in front of the Tan Family estate. Shylie stepped out onto the pavement, her hand curling around the leather strap of her satchel. Within were crisply printed project notes, handwritten outlines, and a sheaf of clippings from various scientific journals. No laptops, no technological shortcuts, no digital media. Nothin. Just ink, and brain, and memory that had experienced decades further than this current year.

The mansion towered above her. Elegant. Imposing. Whisper rather than shout money.

She rang the doorbell once. Almost immediately the door swung open.

"You came." Darren said, smiling but with a hint of anxiety behind it. "Thought you'd just ghost me."

"Was tempting," Shylie replied coolly as she crossed the threshold. "But I'm a professional."

He laughed, raking a hand through his hair. "Still too honest for your own good."

The foyer was warm and orange with sunlight. Floor to ceiling windows reflected the marble floors in a gold haze. The smell of lilies and lemon polish filled the air, a vast contrast to the mouldy, detached coldness of the house she grew up in.

"Come on." Darren said, ushering her further into the house. "My parents want to meet you."

Darren's parents were as she remembered them. Gentle, quiet, and warm in a way her parents had never been.

"Darren didn't exaggerate," his mother said, pouring tea in fine porcelain cups. "He's not one to bring over students."

"Especially girls." His father added with a wink.

Darren groaned. "Guys—can we not?"

Shylie smiled politely but kept her distance. This was not a social visit. She wasn't here for their approval. She was here for Darren. For something—or rather, someone—else.

They unrolled their papers on the kitchen's granite countertop. The project: an environmental tech proposal. Future issues, alternative energy proposals, climate solutions that would be decades away from existence for at least twenty years.

Shylie took the lead, speaking quickly, handwriting meticulously, and confidence expertly.

"You talk like a CEO," Darren said from the back of the chair, leaning with a smile.

"CEO. Used to be one." She replied quietly, catching herself, before muttering, "In another life."

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

Before Darren could pry further, a deep voice said,

"Darren."

Shylie's breath caught in her throat.

Elias Tan

He stepped into the kitchen like a shadow. Clean-cut, tall, a lean figure colder than the autumn breeze. He wore a pressed shirt and dark slacks even in his own home. He stood straight, every muscle taut, and his gaze was icy.

Darren stood at attention. "Uncle—this is Shylie. We're doing a school project."

"I can tell," Elias said, the gaze cutting to Shylie. "I wasn't aware you were inviting strangers into the house."

The word 'stranger' was laced with quiet scorn.

Shylie didn't waver. "Mr. Tan. I'm not here to make small talk. I am here to work."

Elias narrowed his eyes slightly. "Business. At such an age?"

"Age is irrelevant," Shylie replied coolly. "Capability isn't."

Silence. A spark of something behind his eyes, interest? Perhaps. Curiosity at the very least.

"Darren. Ask the chef to prepare something. I will join you."

Darren blinked. "Wait—you're joining us for dinner?"

Elias didn't break eye contact with Shylie. "The conversation just became more interesting."

The dinner table was refined, but the air was tense. Elias sat across from Shylie and interrogated her with questions. Some tactical, others strategic.

She fielded them expertly. No embellishments. No fluff to make herself seem more than she was. Just straight.

"You've done your research," he said in a cold voice.

"I've lived through it," she replied before quickly catching herself. "No, no—I've studied the data. Analyzed the trends."

Elias narrowed his eyes. "You sound like you've seen the future."

She didn't answer. Because, in a way, she already had.

As she pulled on her coat at the front door, Darren accompanied her out.

"He never eats dinner with us," Darren muttered as he shook his head. "You really threw him off."

"I wasn't trying to."

"That's what makes it worse," Darren said with a grin. "You didn't even blink."

Shylie smirked faintly. "You don't survive without learning how to look through worse."

As she walked into the night she glanced at the house.

Upstairs, behind one of the windows, a shadow was visible.

Elias.

Their paths had crossed. And whether he realized it or not, he had already become a part of her future.