SWIPE RIGHT FOR THE ALPHA のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

ARIA Classes went as usual, and sooner than expected, the bell rang for the end of school, its sharp tone echoing through the crowded hallway like a clarion call. Students poured out of classrooms in chaotic waves, their laughter and chatter colliding and spilling into every corner. I lingered at my desk, half-finished packing my notes, trying to ignore the noise outside. A sudden thump made me glance up. Jenna had dropped her bag onto my desk with that dramatic sigh she always reserved for maximum effect. “You know,” she began, leaning in, eyes bright with mischief that warned of impending trouble, “I have to see things for myself today. Guess who’s coming for tutorial?” I frowned, crossing my arms. “Definitely not you… Is this about the rumors? Because it’s totally not worth it.” “Yes, of course me!” she added quickly, grinning. “I just can’t resist. You’ve got him in your class—the most popular basketball player in school. I have to see for myself.” I raised an eyebrow

ARIAI arrived home earlier than usual that day. The heat hit me the second I stepped inside, thick and heavy, pressing against my skin like a warning. The faint smell of burnt oil and sweat lingered in the air, the kind that comes from cooking too long and forgetting to open a window.I closed the door quietly behind me, the creak echoing through the small, still apartment.“Mama?” I called out, dropping my school bag beside the door. But there was no answer.She was supposed to be home. She hadn’t gone to work today—not since they fired her. Maybe she went down the street to buy something? Still, the house felt too quiet. Usually, I’d hear the soft hum of the TV or the clatter of pots in the kitchen. But today there was nothing—just the distant rumble of a generator outside and the faint laughter of children playing somewhere down the street.The living room was dim, so I flicked the switch. The bulb didn’t come on.“Power’s out again,” I muttered, wiping sweat from my forehead. Ty

ARIA “I said enough.” Adrian’s voice cut through the hallway, low, sharp, and firm. The sound seemed to echo off the walls, carrying a weight that made my chest tighten. Cassie froze mid-step. Her perfectly glossed lips parted as she blinked at him, eyes narrowing, sharp and calculating. Every strand of her glossy hair caught the fluorescent lights, her silver earrings glinting as if mocking the tension now stretching between us. She opened her mouth to respond, but a flicker of uncertainty crossed her face—a split second that made my stomach twist. “Can’t you see?” she spat, voice dripping with irritation. “She’s posting pictures over social media, claiming you’re a couple. Don’t you get how desperate she is?” My heart thudded painfully against my ribs. The hallway seemed to shrink around me. Every whisper, every giggle, every click of a phone screen felt amplified, bouncing against the walls, making the space feel smaller, tighter, suffocating. I gripped my backpack strap so hard

ARIA“I’ll leave you to it,” Principal Lockhart said, her polished heels clicking toward the door. “Enjoy your class of discovering possibilities.”Her voice carried that confident, administrative tone that filled every corner of the room — polished, distant, practiced. It was the kind of voice that commanded attention without trying, like she’d said those same words a hundred times before.When the door closed behind her, the echo of her heels lingered for a moment before fading into silence. The stillness that followed felt heavy, as though she’d taken with her the last trace of warmth from the air.Discovering possibilities.The phrase floated above us like a promise wrapped in warning. It didn’t sound like a beginning. It sounded like the start of something we weren’t ready for.For a few seconds, no one moved. You could hear the faint, uneven rhythm of breathing — the sound of a class collectively unsure of what came next. Then, Miss Morrigan turned. Slowly. Her movements were fl

ARIA The bell rang, sharp and insistent, slicing through the lingering tension of the class. The sound didn’t just signal the end of the lesson—it punctured the heaviness that had been pressing down on me for the past hour. I swallowed, trying to steady the fluttering in my chest, but it felt like my ribs were holding a storm that refused to quiet itself. My question lingered in my mind, unanswered, like a loose thread I couldn’t quite grasp. When someone eyes glows or they are remarkably fast, does it mean they are supernatural? I had tried to answer it, really. I had searched my mind for a simple neat response, gone to Mr Thorne for help, but nothing fit. And that frustration had festered, twisting into a quiet, burning irritation I didn’t know how to release. I thought I could leave it behind, but the weight of that unspoken answer clung to me, stubborn and cold. “Ma’am?” I had whispered once before, my voice small and uncertain, but the scraping of chairs and tabl