Chapter 15
The day started weird, and somehow it just kept getting weirder. Ethan was everywhere. I don’t mean the occasional hallway run–in or awkward glance across the room–no, I mean every single class.
First period? He waltzed in right as the bell screamed its final warning, completely unfazed. Mrs. Kline- -our drill sergeant of a math teacher–was infamous for slamming the door shut at exactly 8:00, stranding latecomers in the hallway of shame. But Ethan? Somehow, he got in. No apologies, no scolding, not even a raised eyebrow from her.
He just strolled to an empty seat in the back, radiating that smug I–bend–the–rules energy, like the classroom was his personal kingdom and we were just lucky to breathe the same air.
Second period? Science. Ethan wasn’t even in my lab group, yet somehow, there he was, lounging against the counter like he had always been part of our team all along. His audacity was almost impressive. Mr. Howell, the guy who could sniff out a misplaced student faster than a bloodhound on a scent, didn’t so much as blink.
By third period, I was seriously questioning my grip on reality. Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe I had just never paid attention to how many classes we actually shared. But then came fourth period–history.
And there he was. Ethan. Sitting in the back like he’d been there all semester.
Except he hadn’t. Ethan didn’t even take history this semester.
And yet, there he was again, somehow sitting a few rows behind me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I really tried to ignore him–I swear I did. But by the time we hit art class, whatever was left of my patience had completely disintegrated.
Ethan wasn’t in art class. He didn’t even know how the seating system worked because he hadn’t been here before. The teacher, Ms. Duvall had a very specific way of doing things: seats were assigned based on projects, and switching was practically a cardinal sin. But Ethan? He strolled in, grabbed a chair, and planted himself at the table directly across from me like he owned the place.
And the weirdest part? No one said a thing.
No whispers. No side–eyes. Nothing.
It was like I was the only one who saw how completely insane this was.
I couldn’t take it any longer. Someone needed to know just how much of a psycho he really was. I turned to Tessa, who was deeply absorbed in sketching some impossibly intricate design that could’ve hung in a museum, “I need to tell you something.” I blurted out.
She didn’t so much as look up. “I’m all ears,” she murmured, her pencil gliding smoothly across the paper as she shaded a corner of her drawing.
“It’s about Ethan,” I said, lowering my voice. That got her attention. She stopped drawing, her pencil hovering mid–air, and looked at me, eyes bright with curiosity.
“What about him?” she asked, her voice practically dripping with excitement.
“Shih!” I hissed, glancing around to see if Ethan noticed. He was still sitting quietly at the table across the room.
“What?” Tess asked, her voice a stage whisper now.
I leaned in closer. “This might sound crazy, but… I think Ethan is a furry.”
Tess blinked at me. “I’m sorry, what?”
“A furry,” I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady. “Either that, or he’s got, like, schizophrenia or something–and oh my God, I really hope it’s
not that.”
Tess stared at me for a long moment, then burst out laughing so loudly that a few heads turned.
“Shut up!” I whisper–shouted, grabbing her arm. “This is serious!”
“I can’t–wait, why do you think Ethan is a furry?” she managed to get out between giggles.
“Because he fucking called me his mate and growled right in my ear!” I hissed, throwing my hands up in frustration. “He’s been everywhere today, Tess! And not just anywhere–specifically where I am. Every. Single. Class.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been with you all day, why didn’t I notice him following you around.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, my voice rising in disbelief. “He’s literally right there!” I pointed at the table where I had last seen him, fully prepared to prove my point.
Only. the chair was empty.
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Chapter 15
My stomach dropped.
“See?” Tess said, grinning like she had just caught me in a lie. “You’re imagining things, Camila. Maybe you’re the one with schizophrenia.”
“What the fuck,” I muttered, staring at the empty seat. “He was right there.”
Tess patted my shoulder, her tone mockingly sympathetic. “It’s okay, Cami. We all have off days.”
I glared at her, but deep down, I was freaking out. Either I was losing it, or Ethan was playing some kind of sick game with me.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and I quickly packed up my stuff, avoiding Tess’s smug grin.
“Let’s go, detective,” she said, looping her arm through mine. “Maybe we’ll find your imaginary furry friend in the hallway.”
I wanted to argue, but honestly, I was too rattled to come up with a good comeback. As we walked out of the classroom, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Ethan was still watching me–somewhere, somehow.
It was maddening.
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