POV: Principal LearThe reports kept coming.Thursday afternoon: Mercutio Escalus found drunk on the roof of Westridge Hall, rambling about death and duty and the unfairness of it all.Thursday evening: Otto Moorland had a panic attack in the dining hall. Desi Whitmore stayed with him, refusing to leave even when other students stared.Friday morning: Beatrice Sharpe and Benedict Archer got into a shouting match outside the gymnasium that nearly turned physical.Friday afternoon: Tybalt Capulet filed an official challenge against Mercutio Escalus for "interference in family matters."Lear stared at the challenge form, recognizing the formal language that made everything legal and binding. Once filed, once accepted, there was no backing out without dishonor that would follow both families for generations.He could reject it. As principal, he had the authority to deny challenges he deemed dangerous or inappropriate.But rejecting it would only delay the inevitable. These kids were on a
POV: Principal LearThe files kept multiplying.Lear spread them across his desk like tarot cards, reading futures in incident reports and teacher observations.Mercutio Escalus: Found intoxicated on school grounds. Displaying signs of depression and anxiety.Otto Moorland: Emotional instability increasing. Recommended for counseling.Beatrice Sharpe: Issued challenge to fellow student. Refused mediation.Tybalt Capulet: Multiple instances of aggressive behavior toward Montague pack members.Each file represented a life he was responsible for. Each name belonged to a kid who'd been sent here to learn how to be better than their parents' generation.He was failing them.His phone rang again. This time he answered."Principal Lear.""Alexander." Vincent Capulet's voice was tight with barely controlled fury. "We need to discuss my daughter's situation.""Juliana is an excellent student. Her grades are—""I don't give a damn about her grades. I care about the Montague boy she's been meeti
POV: Principal LearThe coffee had gone cold an hour ago, but Alexander Lear kept staring at it like the dark liquid might offer answers.Three incident reports sat on his desk. Three separate challenges issued in the past week alone. That didn't count the unauthorized transformation in the East Woods or the fight that had broken out during Pack Politics class yesterday.Something was building. He could feel it in his bones, in the way students walked the halls with shoulders tight and eyes watchful. The air tasted electric, charged with the kind of tension that preceded lightning strikes.His phone buzzed. Another call from a pack leader demanding updates on their precious offspring.He let it go to voicemail."Sir?" His secretary's voice crackled through the intercom. "Alpha Montague is on line three. He says it's urgent."Of course it was urgent. Everything was urgent when your heir was sneaking around with a Capulet girl."Tell him I'm in a meeting.""He's called six times today."
POV: Mercutio EscalusThe text came three days later while I was trying to study for a Pack Law exam I definitely hadn't prepared for.Unknown number: Greenhouse. Midnight. If you care about your friend, come alone.My first instinct was to delete it. My second was to show it to Ronan. My third, which I unfortunately followed, was to go see what mystery person wanted to discuss at midnight in the place where Ronan and Juliana had their secret meetings.I arrived early and hid behind some potted ferns, watching as Tybalt Capulet appeared exactly at midnight. He wasn't alone. Three other Capulet students flanked him, all looking like they'd dressed for violence instead of conversation."I know you're here, Escalus," Tybalt called out. "I can smell your fear from across the greenhouse."I stepped out from my hiding spot with more confidence than I felt. "Dramatic much? The midnight meeting, the ominous text message. Very film noir.""You think this is funny?""I think everything's funny
POV: Mercutio Escalus"When did you see them together?" Cassio asked quietly."Last Tuesday. And Thursday. And Saturday." I counted on my fingers like I was tallying something cheerful instead of documenting my best friend's march toward disaster. "They meet in the old greenhouse behind the athletics building. Very romantic. Very secret. Very likely to get them both killed when Tybalt inevitably finds out.""Maybe it won't come to that.""It always comes to that. Montagues and Capulets have been killing each other for three centuries. You think one mate bond is going to overcome that kind of hatred?""Stranger things have happened.""Name one."Cassio thought about it. "The fall of the Berlin Wall?""That took decades and international political pressure. Ronan and Juliana have what, a few months before their families demand they choose sides?" I shook my head, feeling the alcohol make the world tilt pleasantly. "This isn't a love story. It's a countdown to tragedy.""So what are you
POV: Mercutio EscalusThe vodka burned going down, which meant it was working.I sat on the roof of Westridge Hall at 2 AM with a bottle I'd stolen from the senior lounge, watching the stars spin overhead while I tried to convince myself that everything was fine. Totally fine. Absolutely, perfectly, magnificently fine.The fact that I was drunk on a Tuesday night meant nothing. The fact that I'd skipped three classes this week meant nothing. The fact that my best friend was sneaking around with a girl whose family wanted him dead meant absolutely nothing at all."You're spiraling," I told the stars. "But in a fun way. A whimsical, devil-may-care kind of spiral that's very on brand."The stars didn't respond, which was probably for the best since talking to celestial bodies would suggest I'd crossed from entertainingly reckless into genuinely concerning.My phone buzzed with a text from Ronan: Where are you? We were supposed to study for Pack Law.I typed back: Busy ascending to a hig