The Reality Check

The scent of cedar was so thick I could almost taste it. Kael’s hand was a warm weight against mine, his silver eyes pulling me into a world where Seraphina didn't exist and my "glow" was a blessing, not a burden.

"I'm glad I found you," he whispered, leaning so close our foreheads almost touched.

"Elara," he said—

but his voice suddenly changed.

It went from a silken baritone to a nasally, congested whine.

"Elara, you’re getting ink on your chin. And you're kind of twitching."

I bolted upright so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.

The cedar was gone. The "Shadow Knight" was gone.

In his place stood Tommy Higgins, leaning over my desk with a look that was supposed to be smoldering but mostly made him look like he was struggling to remember his own middle name. He let out a wet, rattling sneeze, barely covering it with his sleeve.

"The bell rang ten minutes ago," Tommy whispered, winking—though it looked more like he had something stuck in his eye.

"I stayed behind to guard you. You were saying my name in your sleep. It was... intense. I felt the connection."

"I was not saying your name, Tommy," I hissed, frantically wiping my face.

My fingers came away blue. I did, in fact, have a streak of ink across my jaw from dozing off on my pen.

Maya leaned against the doorframe, her shoulders shaking as she recorded everything on her phone.

"Oh, he’s right, Elara. You said 'K...K...' and Tommy just assumed he was the only 'K' in your life. Apparently, he thinks his name is spelled K-Tommy now."

"I know a destiny when I see one," Tommy said, trying to lean coolly against my desk.

His elbow slipped on a stray paper, and he did a weird, flapping dance to keep from falling.

"See you at the car, Princess. I’ll be watching for you."

He swaggered out—his backpack smacking loudly against the doorframe on the way.

"I hate it here," I muttered, shoving my Excellence Award into my bag. "I want to go back to sleep and never wake up."

"And miss the romance of the century?" Maya wheezed, following me down the hall.

"The Prince of Mucus has chosen his bride!"

The walk to the parking lot felt like a gauntlet.

I could feel Seraphina’s eyes on me from across the courtyard, her laughter tinkling like breaking glass as she watched Tommy hover near Ethan’s car. Tinsley and Amber whispered behind their hands, probably already drafting a post about the "Genius and the Geek."

Ethan leaned against Old Tank, arms crossed, staring at Tommy with pure confusion. Liv was already in the backseat, her face buried in a book.

"Hey, Elara!" Tommy called, striking a pose that looked more painful than cool.

"Don't forget what I said. The stars are aligned!"

I dove into the passenger seat.

"Drive. Ethan, drive right now or I will jump out of this moving vehicle."

Ethan didn’t drive. He cranked the engine—which sounded like a tractor coughing up a wrench—and turned to me with a wicked grin.

"So," he drawled as we pulled out, "aligned stars, huh? Who was the poet with the runny nose?"

"He looked like he was pitching a tent in front of my car just to wait for you. I almost invited him for a playdate."

"Shut up, Ethan," I groaned, sliding down in my seat.

"No, seriously," he laughed, swerving around a pothole. "The guy is a legend. He told me he’s been 'protecting your honor.'"

"Most guys want a girl who’s easy to talk to, but this one? He wants a girl he can sneeze on. That’s true love."

"You need to hold him tight."

"He thinks I was dreaming about him!" I cried.

"Weren't you?" Liv said from the back, not looking up. "You had that weird happy twitch again."

"He isn't imaginary! I mean—the dream wasn't about Tommy!"

"Sure, Princess," Ethan chuckled. "We’ll put that on the wedding invitation. 'The dream wasn't about him, but the snot was real.'"

By the time we got home, the house glowed with warm light.

The scent of burnt sugar and lavender wrapped around us as we stepped inside. Evelyn stood in the kitchen, her hair in a messy bun with pins sticking out at odd angles. Blue dye stained her hands, and a measuring tape hung around her neck.

"There they are!" she beamed, pulling me into a tight hug.

"My genius daughter! Ethan called me right after the assembly—I’ve told everyone at the fabric shop."

"Ethan, you have a big mouth," I muttered, though I was smiling.

"I had to," he said, raiding the fridge. "How else do we get cake?"

On the table sat a slightly lopsided cake with a sparkler stuck in the middle, and a plate of my favorite spicy plantain chips.

"A small celebration for a big brain," Evelyn said.

"To Elara," Ethan added, raising his glass. "May her grades stay high and her boyfriend’s nose stay dry."

"Ethan!" Evelyn laughed. "What boyfriend?"

"Oh, you missed it," he said. "A real Romeo. Apparently, their souls are aligned."

"He looks like he might be allergic to oxygen," Liv added, "but he has heart."

"Leave her alone," Evelyn said gently. Then she looked at me.

"I’m proud of you, Elara. Truly."

I looked at her—at the dye on her hands, the tired lines around her eyes—and felt a wave of guilt.

Not because of something I’d done, but because of what I was hiding.

The way my skin hummed. The way my thoughts kept drifting back to a boy who didn’t belong to this world.

It felt wrong to carry something so heavy while they stood here, loving me so easily.

"Thanks, Mom," I whispered.

Later that night, the house grew quiet.

I sat by my window, staring out into the dark yard as the wind stirred the leaves of the old oak tree.

Then—movement.

A tall, dark figure stood near the edge of our property, partially hidden by the fence.

My heart leaped into my throat.

I leaned closer to the glass, my breath fogging the pane. The figure shifted slightly, and I caught the faint glint of something metallic in their hand.

They weren’t looking at the house.

They were looking at me.

The air felt heavy. My skin pulsed with a sudden, warning heat.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even breathe.

I just stood there—

watching.

As the figure slowly raised their hand…

and pointed directly at my window.