The air in the school was taut, strung tight like a violin about to snap. Everywhere Lottie walked, she felt it—the hum beneath the chatter, the frantic shuffle of pages, the tap-tap-tap of pens drumming against desks as students crowded hallways, whispering formulas under their breath, their faces pinched with a kind of beautiful, terrified focus. The countdown to midterms had begun, and the entire school was in its grip.
Lottie moved through it like a quiet axis, her books cradled in her arms, eyes lowered to her notes. Around her, the frenzy swirled—shoulders bumping, backpacks swinging, a boy dropping a calculator with a strangled curse, a girl near the lockers blinking furiously at flashcards as if sheer force of will might tattoo the answers into her brain.
As she passed, voices slipped through the noise like static:
"Did you hear? Evelyn's study group is closed this time—no outsiders."
"I heard Lottie's been tutoring half the junior class in secret."
"Someone said she doesn't even need to study, she just remembers everything."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Lottie's lips, barely there, gone as quickly as it came.
Across the hall, Evelyn stood near the windows, a vision of serenity draped in silk and confidence. Her smile was measured, eyes drifting lazily over her circle, one elegant hand tucked into the crook of her elbow while the other gestured lightly as she spoke. But Lottie, glancing up from the corner of her eye, saw the truth flicker beneath the surface—the twitch of a muscle in Evelyn's jaw, the too-quick blink, the way her fingers, deceptively graceful, curled a little too tightly around the strap of her purse.
Leo materialized at Lottie's side, a paper coffee cup in each hand, his grin lazy and unapologetic as he passed her one. His fingers brushed hers in the exchange, a spark of warmth in the chill of the hallway.
"Caffeine before bloodbath," he murmured, voice curling warm and rough in her ear. "Basic survival."
She accepted it with a small, amused tilt of her lips, wrapping cold fingers around the blessed heat. "Thank you, you agent of chaos."
"Hey, just doing the Lord's work," Leo shot back, nudging her shoulder playfully as they slipped past a trio of students crouched against the lockers. His eyes swept the hall, gleaming with a sharp, foxlike glint. "They look like they're prepping for the apocalypse."
"And Evelyn?" Lottie murmured, eyes flicking toward the queen bee at the window.
Leo's grin sharpened, mouth twitching with something dangerous. "Ah, well. Our lady of poise is fraying at the edges."
Amy hovered near Evelyn, her expression stretched thin with nerves as she shuffled a stack of papers, trying to keep up with Evelyn's murmured instructions. Lottie watched the girl's fingers tremble slightly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, only for Evelyn to touch her shoulder, a gesture so light it barely existed, but one that snapped Amy's attention back like a leash. Lottie's chest tightened faintly, something sharp and familiar tugging at her ribs.
"Look alive," Leo murmured as they approached the bulletin board. A crowd had already formed, shoulders jostling, elbows darting as students pressed forward to read the freshly posted midterm seating chart. The buzz in the air thickened, the undercurrent of stress sharpening to a keen edge.
"Oh my god, I'm next to Jamie—he's, like, top five," someone groaned, their voice almost cracking with hysteria.
"I'm dead. Just bury me now," another voice wailed, half-laughing, half-crying.
Lottie stepped forward, scanning the list with a practiced calm. Her name, third row, center. Evelyn, one row over, just far enough for proximity to sting. A flicker of breath escaped her nose, the barest acknowledgment, but inside, she felt the tension ripple through the crowd—the realization spreading like wildfire.
Leo leaned in, his breath stirring a strand of her hair. "Stay sharp," he murmured, the low hum of his voice a thread of steel under velvet. "It's starting."
The teachers' voices rose above the noise, announcing last-minute review sessions, their tones brisk and no-nonsense, but even they couldn't mask the undercurrent of unease rippling through the students. Books slammed shut, pens scraped hurried notes, and the hallway became a river of frenzied motion.
"Hey, Lottie," a voice piped up hesitantly—Emily from chemistry, clutching a battered notebook to her chest. "Do you… have any tips for the calc section?" Her eyes darted nervously toward Evelyn's group across the hallway.
Lottie's fingers brushed her own notebook absently. "Practice the optimization problems," she murmured, offering a quiet, unassuming smile. "They're almost guaranteed to show up."
Emily's face brightened like she'd been handed a lifeline. "Thanks! Seriously—you're amazing."
Leo snorted softly as the girl scampered off. "They're already building shrines to you, Hayes."
Lottie shot him a dry glance. "Stop."
"Can't," Leo grinned, rocking back on his heels. "It's too fun watching you pretend you hate the attention."
At lunch, Lottie sat by the window, the pale winter light silvering her hair and casting her face in a soft, thoughtful glow. Her fingers circled the rim of her cup, the faint scent of green tea curling up into the air like a quiet, grounding tether. Across the cafeteria, Evelyn's laughter rang out—sharp, too bright, a brittle thing wrapped in gold. Amy sat tight at her side, posture stiff, fingers tapping nervously at her phone.
Leo slid into the seat across from her, dropping his tray with a faint clatter. "Social media update," he murmured, his grin all teeth. "Her engagement numbers dipped. You're trending without even trying."
Lottie stirred her tea slowly, watching the ripples fan outward, her eyes half-lidded in thought. "It's too soon," she said quietly, her voice barely carrying over the hum of conversation. "They're still watching."
Leo tilted his head, elbows resting on the table as he leaned forward, the sunlight catching on the silver ring at his thumb. "And you love it," he murmured, eyes gleaming. "Don't lie, Hayes—you're not built for small games."
Her breath caught on a laugh—quiet, fleeting. "I'm built for winning," she murmured back.
Her phone buzzed, a small tremor against the tabletop. She turned it over, her heart skipping as she read the message flashing across the screen.
Mason: I've received the package.
For a moment, the cafeteria noise blurred to a distant hum, the edges of the world sharpening to a single, pulsing point. Her fingers tightened briefly on the cup, knuckles paling, then relaxed, the tension rolling out in a slow exhale.
Leo's gaze flicked to her face, catching the shift, the sudden coil of tension behind her eyes. "What is it?" he asked softly, the grin fading into something quieter, watchful.
"Everything," Lottie murmured, voice steady but her pulse thrumming like a drumbeat in her ears. "Everything's about to change."
The afternoon crawled forward under a sky stretched thin with pale clouds. As Lottie walked through the halls, she caught the way eyes flicked toward her, the subtle tilt of conversations, the quiet pull of alliances shifting beneath the surface. There was a hum to it now, an undercurrent that trembled along the floorboards and prickled at the edge of her senses.
She passed Amy at the lockers, the girl's fingers trembling slightly as she fumbled with the latch, her brow furrowed in tight concentration. For a heartbeat, their eyes met—Amy's gaze wide, uncertain, apology flickering in the corners. Lottie offered no words, only the barest incline of her head, the quiet, unyielding weight of acknowledgment. Amy's throat bobbed in a nervous swallow as she turned quickly back to her locker, shoulders hunched inward.
By the final bell, the school pulsed with tension, the hallways tight with the hum of whispers and half-swallowed rumors. Evelyn stood at the far end of the corridor, surrounded by a thinning circle of admirers, her posture a study in brittle poise. Her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the strap of her designer bag, the faintest quiver at the corner of her mouth betraying the storm curling beneath her skin.
As Lottie moved to slip past, Evelyn's voice cut sharp through the air. "Charlotte."
She froze, turning slowly, the faintest flicker of a smile ghosting at the corner of her mouth. Evelyn's eyes gleamed cold, her smile stretched thin as she stepped forward, heels clicking against the tiles like a countdown.
"We need to talk," Evelyn murmured, her voice low, the words laced with a brittle edge.
The words fell between them like a gauntlet, the air tightening, the hallway holding its breath.
Lottie felt the pulse at her throat quicken, her fingers curling loosely at her side. She lifted her chin, the faint curve of a smile brushing her lips, a shimmer of steel beneath the softness.
"I was wondering when you'd catch up," she murmured softly, her voice a blade sheathed in velvet.
Behind her, Leo's laugh sparked low and dangerous, a flicker of amusement threading through the rising tension, his hand brushing briefly against her back in silent support.
And as the last bell echoed into silence, the cracks spread wide and deep, the old order trembling on the edge of collapse, the air electric with the promise of everything yet to come.