The Hidden Threads

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Around me, students scrambled to their feet, tray clattering as they hurried back to their classes. I slung my backpack over one shoulder and nudged Mike's elbow.

"Let's go," I said. "I don't want to be late for two classes in one day."

Mike groaned, shoving the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. "Relax, dude. It's not like they'll kick us out for being a few minutes late." He grinned, wiping his mouth with his backhand.

Wait—didn't he say something similar this morning?

"Besides, I need to mentally prepare myself to talk to that redhead chick in my next class." He waggled his eyebrows. You know, the one who looks like she's plotting world domination?"

I rolled my eyes. "You mean the one you're too scared to talk to?"

Mike feigned offense, clutching his chest like I'd stabbed him. "Scared? Me? Nah, I'm just... strategizing. It's called having game, Ethan. You should try it sometime."

I smirked but didn't respond. As we walked down the hallway, the nagging unease from earlier returned, like pieces of puzzle I couldn't quite put together.

*********************************************

We turned the corner and nearly walked straight into a group of football players. Their leader—some tall, broad-shouldered guy I didn't recognize—was leaning against a locker, smirking while his cronies surrounded a smaller kid. The boy—Andrew, I'd learn later—was pressed against the wall, his glasses crooked and his hands raised like a shield.

Mike hesitated, grabbing my sleeve. "Uh... maybe we should ....Detour."

I didn't answer. My body moved before my brain caught up.

"Back off."

One of the guys—Allen, I think—turned to me with a sneer. "Who do you think you are, new kid? Mind your own business."

My fingers twitched at my sides, ready.

"You're making it my business."

Allen laughed, but it sounded forced. He stepped closer, puffing out his chest like that was supposed to intimidate me. "You really want to do this? You don't even know who you're messing with."

I didn't move. "Leave him alone."

Allen's face reddened as he took a step closer. "You think you're tough, new kid?" he sneered. "You think you can just waltz in here and defend some nerd?"

His fist clenched.

Then, before I could react, Allen swung his fist.

Instinct took root—my hand shot out, my fingers locking around his fist, with a sharp twist, I used his own momentum against him, his arm bending at an unnatural angle.

Crack.

Allen let out a high-pitched wail as he crumpled, clutching his shoulder.

A freshman girl dropped her books to the floor.

Two debate-team guys backed up as if I was contagious.

Then, someone whispered, "Did you see that?"

The hallway fell silent. Even the football team's leader—Nathan—looked stunned for half a second before his face darkened. "You've got a lot of nerve, new kid."

Mike grabbed my arm, his voice a hissed whisper. "Dude, you've been holding out on me. When did you learn to do that? Are you... some kind of?"

"This isn't over, freak," Nathan said , his jaw tightening as he noticed everyone's eyes focusing on him."

But before I could respond, a sharp voice cut through the silence.

"My Office. Now."

**************************************

Principal's Office

The principal's office smelled like cheap coffee and regret. I sat stiffly in the chair, my hands clenching into fists. Mike fidgeted beside me, his gaze darting between me and Nathan, who lounged with an air of entitled boredom. Allen was presumably still in the nurse's office, his screams echoing faintly in my mind.

Principal Perkins sighed, rubbing his temples. "I don't have time for this. The board's already breathing down my neck about this year's school performance." his gaze flicked toward Nathan. And honestly, Nathan's parents are big donors to this school."

"Consider this a warning," the principal said flatly. "Next time, report incidents to the staff instead of handling them yourself. For now, you and Mike will be assigned campus service—cleanup duty in the cafeteria and library after lunch. End of discussion."

My jaw locked. "What about them?" I asked, gesturing to Nathan. "They started it."

Principal Perkins didn't even look up. "Nathan has football practice, and Allen needs medical attention.

I wanted to argue, but Mike grabbed my arm, shaking his head slightly. "Not worth it, man," he muttered,his eyes wearing a resigned weariness.

**************************************

Andrew was still in the hallway where we left, his glasses straightened but his hands still shaking. Mike walked over, uncharacteristically serious.

"Hey, you okay?"

Andrew adjusted his glasses. "I'm fine, thanks. It's nothing new—I've always been picked on because of my size." His voice was quiet, but there was pain underneath.

Mike's grin faltered as Andrew spoke. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly fascinated by his shoelaces.

Mike shook his head. "Well, not anymore! As long as I'm around, no one's gonna mess with you again." He puffed out his chest, but I saw the guilt in his eyes.

Andrew smiled slightly. "Thanks. I'm Andrew... Andrew Scott."

"Mike," he said, shaking Andrew's hand. "And this is Ethan—the ninja."

I nodded towards him, but my mind was racing. The way I moved earlier— I hope people forget about it by tomorrow.

**************************************

Lidia exited the library, her phone clutched tightly in her hand as she typed a quick message.

"Still haven't found it."

Then a reply came almost instantly.

Keep looking. Hurry. I think something has already started to happen.

Lidia frowned, her fingers hovering over the screen.

What does that mean? she typed.

Lidia waited, staring at the screen, but no response came. After a minute, she sighed in frustration and shoved her phone into her pocket. Whatever The Magnus was referring to, it wasn't going to be explained via text.

As she walked to class, she noticed a faint shimmer in the air near the library. It was gone in an instant, but it left her with a sinking feeling. Whatever was happening, it was closer than she thought.

**************************************

Campus service was exactly as terrible as expected. The janitor handed us brooms and pointed at the post-lunch carnage in the cafeteria.

Mike groaned, leaning on his broom like it was the only thing keeping him upright. "This is so unfair. We're the heroes of the day, and this is our reward?"

"Like seriously? We stopped a beatdown, and our reward is cleaning up this mess?"

he said pointing dramatically at the scattered foods and overturned chairs.

I didn't answer, my mind focusing on the strange things centering around me lately. I couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was coming—something I wasn't sure I was ready for.