Chapter 5: Not Our Song

Maddie didn’t just walk into the party, she made an entrance.  Flanked by her girls, she waited for the perfect song with all the right beats to make her red carpet moment.  The music shifted to the perfect pop anthem and she swung the doors open causing people to turn their attention to her.  She looked like a huntress with a singular prey in mind.  She quickly scanned the room and was pleasantly surprised to find Kaplan hiding in a corner, seeming unaware of her presence, which miffed her a bit.

She took long, model like strides through the crowd as she stalked her way to Kaplan’s table.  She spied the drinks and grabbed a bottle of beer and some type of fruity cocktail and made her way to him.

The party buzzed with high octane music and laughter. Kaplan was aware Maddie had entered, but had chosen not to notice when a sudden wave of perfume — heady, floral, unmistakable — drifted across the table.

“Kaplan,” a voice cooed, “you didn’t tell me you would be here.”

Madison appeared in a swirl of auburn hair, plopping the beer on the table without waiting for permission and slipped neatly into the space beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed.

Diego shot Sam a look. Sam smirked. Ethan sank lower into his chair wishing Priya as closer to save him.

“Maddie,” Kaplan said, his jaw tightening just enough for his friends to notice. “Didn’t realize you were around.”

His friends rushed back to the table in order to shield him from Maddie’s unwanted attention.

She leaned in, her smile dazzling and calculated. “Of course, I am. I’ve been around since day one, remember? Orientation week, that café downtown—” her eyes sparkled as she reached out and touched his wrist lightly, “—our song was playing. Total fate.”

Kaplan pulled back, subtle but firm. “That was one coffee. And it wasn’t our song.”

Unfazed, Maddie laughed, tossing her auburn hair like a flame. “You’re so modest. Don’t downplay our connection.” She turned her gaze to Ethan, her smile broadening. “So, what are we talking about? Kaplan’s big future? Or are we still pretending he’s not the most eligible guy on campus?”

Diego coughed into his hand, muttering, “Here we go.” Priya elbowed him.

Kaplan exhaled slowly, his patience thinning. “We were just here to blow off some steam.”

“Well, then,” Maddie said sweetly, resting her chin in her palm as though she had all the time in the world, “I’ll party with you. Like always.”

Her drink sat untouched. Her eyes never left Kaplan.

Kaplan took a deep swig of the beer Maddie had thrust into his hand, hoping she wouldn’t interpret it as encouragement. He felt her gaze pierce him, sharp and possessive, like she could will him into submission. Everything about her grated on him — the smugness, the faux charm, the desperate insistence that he notice her. He was just about to stand and escape when a shiver ran down his spine.

Something was off. His instincts, finely tuned from years of athletic training and ancient fascination, screamed at him. There was something in the room, a presence that didn’t belong, cold and heavy, threading through the music and chatter like a dark current. Eyes on him. Watching him.

Kaplan scanned the loft. Half-drunk students swayed to the music. Laughter, arguments, spilled drinks — mundane chaos. Nothing seemed out of place. And yet… the sensation persisted, sharpening, focusing, tethering him to one point in the room.

Then he saw it.

Perched on the patio wall, just outside the glass door, was a great horned owl. Its massive form was still, wings tucked tightly, feathers ruffling slightly in the breeze. Those round, molten-yellow eyes fixed on him, unblinking, and Kaplan felt a chill creep along his spine. They weren’t just watching. They were judging. Waiting.

He rose, compelled, every muscle coiled with an unnamable tension. The owl didn’t move, and yet Kaplan felt its presence push against him, a weight that was almost alive. He stepped closer to the window, holding his breath. The moment he reached the glass, the owl shifted, unfurling its wings with a sudden, silent grace — and then it was gone, vanishing into the night like a shadow carved from the dark.

Kaplan’s heart hammered in his chest. He stared at the empty patio, the lingering sense of eyes still on him refusing to dissipate. Something — or someone — was out there. And somehow, he knew, this was only the beginning.