Chapter 3: Strange

Aurora’s POV

I have to call Ember right away.

Not in ten minutes. Not after I’ve kicked off my shoes or eaten something or processed what just happened.

Now because if I don’t say it out loud, it’s going to keep spinning in my mind like one of those tornado drills we used to have in elementary school—loud, disorienting, and a little bit terrifying.

The phone barely rings once.

"You'll never guess what happened Em!!”

“Girl, what is it?” Ember’s voice bursts through like a shot of caffeine. “You can’t just call me and say,

‘You’ll never guess what happened,’ without giving a further explanation.”

I don’t even try to hide my grin. “Your brother, Ember. That’s what happened.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then her tone shifts, sharp with irritation. “What the hell did that dickhead of a brother do this time, Aurora?

I swear I’m gonna clock him over the head one of these days. Maybe it’ll knock some damn sense into him.”

I laugh, a real one, not just the tight little chuckles I give teachers or classmates. Ember is the only person in the world..

Who can threaten bodily harm to her own brother while sounding like she’s talking about burning toast. She’s always been fiercely protective of me even against her own blood.

“No, no, Ember. Everything’s actually… fine. If you can call it that. It was just strange.”

“Strange?” she echoes, wary. “Aurora, your ‘strange’ usually turns into ‘I almost got shoved in a trash can again,’ so start talking.”

I sigh, rolling onto my bed, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead. “He gave me a ride home.”

There’s silence. A long one.

Then—“Zander gave you a ride home?”

“Yeah.” I pause for dramatic effect. “Voluntarily. Even though he was kind of a jerk. He even… offered.”

Another beat of stunned silence.

“Is that all he did?” Her voice sharpens. “Aurora, you better tell me the truth. If he touched you or said something gross, I swear to God, I will take that guitar he loves so much and smash it over his perfectly sculpted skull.”

I stifle a snort. “Relax, Ember. He didn’t lay a single finger on me. No insults. No pranks. Not even a side-eye. Just… offered me a ride when the rain started pouring.

He said he didn’t want me walking home in that storm.” My voice drops, more unsure now. “He said he didn’t want me to get hurt.”

She’s silent again.

For a second, I wonder if the call dropped, or if she passed out from shock.

Then her voice returns, louder, incredulous. “Wow, my brother… that Almighty Al—I mean, jerk—gave you a ride home like some noble protector or something. That was it?”

I sit up slowly, her slip echoing in my head.

Almighty Al… I mean, jerk.

It was fast, but deliberate. The kind of cover-up you only do when you realize you’ve said too much. Something about it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Ember… what were you about to call him?”

“Huh?”

“You said ‘Almighty Al…’ and then changed it to jerk. What was that?”

A pause. “Oh… I don’t know, I meant ‘almighty asshole’ or something. You know me, I mix up my comebacks when I’m annoyed.”

But I’m not convinced.

There was a hesitation in her voice. Like she was scrambling to patch up something she wasn’t supposed to say. And I know Ember. She doesn’t scramble.

“What were you really gonna say?” I push, my voice quieter now, curious more than accusatory.

“Aurora, seriously. It was nothing.”

“Then why did you stop mid-word like you slipped up?”

Another pause.

Then she lets out a loud groan. “You’re seriously overthinking. My brain’s fried, okay? I’ve been up since five helping Mom with paperwork.

My brain’s doing that thing where I’m talking faster than I can think. I probably meant to say ‘almighty idiot’ or ‘almighty dumbass.’ Take your pick.”

I want to believe her. I really do.

But something about the way she covered it.. it felt like a curtain being yanked back only for someone to snap it closed before you can really see what’s behind it.

Still, I let it go. For now.

Because the bigger mystery still swirls around Zander and that strange car ride.

“I promise you, Ember, that was it. Just a ride. No weird comments. No recording me secretly so he can post it and make a meme out of it. He even said not to tell anyone at school.”

She scoffs. “Of course he did. The school golden boy with a reputation to maintain. If anyone saw him being semi-decent to the girl he’s bullied since sixth grade, he’d lose half his fanbase.”

That stings more than I care to admit, because it’s probably true.

“Yeah, well…” I trail off, chewing my lip. “He looked… different.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. It’s like he was really seeing me. Why would he give me a ride home? His favorite play toy at school.”

Ember makes a disgusted noise. “Okay, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say something poetic about my brother’s eyes. You sound like one of those girls in his fan club that keeps a shrine of his pictures in their closet.”

I laugh, a little embarrassed. “Shut up. I didn’t say I liked it. It just… messed with my head, okay? He’s been the same jerk for years. And then suddenly he’s pulling the whole ‘I care about your safety’ act?”

“Well, maybe he hit his head. Or got abducted by aliens and swapped with a kinder, less punchable clone.”

“That would actually explain a lot.”

We both laugh, but the feeling in my chest doesn’t go away. That tight, anxious fluttering like something’s changing and I’m not ready for it.

“Anyway,” I say after a moment, “I’m not gonna get my hopes up. I know how this goes. Tomorrow he’ll probably pretend like nothing happened, or worse, act like I begged for the ride and start spreading rumors.”

Ember hums. “Yeah. That sounds more like him. Just keep your guard up. And promise me promise me that if he so much as breathes wrong in your direction, you’ll tell me.

And don’t worry I won’t say anything to him. Unless he touches you. Then all bets are off.”

“I promise,” I say softly. “You’re my best friend. You know I tell you everything.”

“Damn right.”

We stay on the line for another minute, neither of us saying anything. Just breathing. I think she’s waiting to see if I’ll bring up the “Almighty Al” thing again. I don’t.

But it’s still there, lodged in my brain. What is going on?

After we hang up, I sit on the edge of my bed for a while, my fingers twisting in the hem of my hoodie. My heart won’t stop its nervous little tap-dance.

That ride should’ve been insignificant. Just a fluke. A one-time thing.

So why can’t I stop replaying it?

The way he glanced at me under the red light, like he was trying to figure something out but didn’t know how to say it.

The moment his hand hovered over the radio dial and he switched it to an old country station instead of the rap he usually blasts through the school parking lot.

The weird way he told me not to mention it.

And that “Almighty Al…” thing? It gnaws at me.

Like maybe there’s more to Zander than I’ve ever been allowed to see. Like maybe Ember knows something. Something she’s not telling me.

I drag myself to the bathroom and turn on the shower. Let the hot water wash over me and try to drown the questions in steam.

But one floats to the surface no matter how hard I try to bury it:

What if today wasn’t just a fluke?

What if something really is changing?

And the scarier question—

What if I’m not ready for it to change back?