He boarded the first coach and made his way to the back where a few seats were reserved for the student council. He dropped into one and leaned his head back, exhaling.
Bryce climbed on moments later.
Then the laughter started.
Soft at first.
Then less subtle.
Adam opened one eye. "What."
Bryce grinned. "You look like you fought your pillow and lost."
The other council members snickered. some laughing out loud after they successfully failed at hiding it
"Why didn't you wake me up man?" Adam demanded.
Bryce's grin widened. "I did bruh." He defended himself, palms up as he recalled the events of earlier that morning, trying not to laugh while he did.
It was 6:02 a.m.
Bryce stood over Adam's bed. "Adam."
Nothing.
6:05 a.m.
A gentle shake of the shoulder.
No response.
6:08 a.m.
Bryce clapped once loudly near his ear, then a bunch of times.
Nothing.
6:12 a.m.
Bryce pulled the curtains open fully, sunlight assaulting the room.
Adam did not move.
6:15 a.m.
Bryce poked him with a rolled up notebook. Even going as far as spanking him with it.
Still nothing, except Adam scratching himself in the bum where he'd been spanked
6:20 a.m.
Bryce leaned down dramatically. "The world is ending!"
Adam snored.
6:25 a.m.
Bryce, exasperated, whispering, "This man sleeps like he signed a contract with death."
Back in the bus Bryce laughed as he began, "I woke up at six to make sure the supplies were sent ahead and everything was running smoothly," Bryce said, barely containing his laughter. "I tried. You were hibernating. So, I left."
"I called you," he added defensively. "Three times."
Adam groaned and slid down in his seat. "I hate all of you."
More laughter.
The buses began to roll.
As they headed north, Bryce pulled out a small package and began handing out black armbands embroidered with the school crest in silver.
"For visibility," he said. "Student council."
Adam slid one over his sleeve.
"And don't forget what we discussed yesterday."
That triggered the memory.
Monday afternoon.
After class council meeting.
Bryce at the head of the table, congratulating Aiva and Adam for getting every club on board for the Halloween trip. A rare smooth operation.
They discussed supplies which were scheduled to be sent early Tuesday morning.
They would head up later.
At the castle they would coordinate with club leaders, set up tents, decorate, organize.
A slow build toward Halloween on Thursday.
Tomorrow, a club festival. Music, games, food, snacks. Something relaxed to help everyone settle in.
Then a movie night in the throne room.
Other festivities would be discussed once Bryce secured a meeting room on site.
It had sounded simple enough.
Back on the bus, the scenery shifted gradually from urban sprawl to open stretches of road lined with trees. Adam's eyelids drooped.
He dozed.
Not fully asleep.
Just drifting.
Bryce nudged him gently. "You good?"
"Yeah," Adam lied. "Just slept late."
He hadn't.
Not really.
He had just been too tired to wake up.
They eventually reached the shore.
The bus doors opened.
And the world hit Adam all at once.
The smell.
Lake water, clean and mineral sharp. Damp wood from the docks. Algae. Fish. Fresh cut rope fibers. Engine oil from the ferries. Sweat from dock workers. Sunscreen. Wet stone. Pine trees lining the edges. Earth. Soil warming under the sun.
His heightened senses drank it in violently.
The shoreline stretched wide and busy, wooden piers jutting out into the lake like fingers. Ferries rocked gently against thick ropes tied around iron posts. Gulls wheeled overhead, their cries sharp and repetitive. A cluster of fisheries sat to the right, metal roofs glinting. Nets hung to dry along wooden rails, scales catching the light like silver confetti.
Beyond the docks, trees framed the lake in dense green, their reflections shimmering on the water's surface. The sun bounced off small waves, scattering light across everything.
Students poured off the buses in waves of chatter.
Adam stepped down last and the smells intensified.
Water.
Mud.
Fuel.
Salted snacks from someone's open bag.
His stomach growled audibly.
He paused, hand pressing lightly against his abdomen.
It felt hollow.
No, not hollow.
Hungry in a way that scraped from the inside. Like his body was quietly consuming itself to keep functioning.
He had been eating less.
Ever since that conversation with Luna.
He told himself it was discipline.
Control the inner wolf. He had told himself
But his body did not agree.
It was taking its toll.
He inhaled slowly, steadying himself.
Aiva bumped his shoulder gently.
"Relax," she said. "There'll be snacks on the boat. I know you didn't eat this morning. Being late and all."
He gave a half smile.
They began unloading bags from the buses, stacking them neatly on the pavement while waiting for their guide to appear.
The lake shimmered ahead.
The castle island sat somewhere beyond that horizon.
And Adam, stomach growling, senses buzzing, felt the faintest flicker of something beneath his fatigue.
Anticipation. As a shadow fell across the pavement before anyone saw its owner.
The chatter thinned.
Students shifted, some mid-laugh, as a cane struck the dock once, sharp and impatient.
Adam turned.
The man approaching them looked like the lake had carved him out of driftwood and bad temper. He was tall in the way thin men sometimes are, all angles and joints, his shoulders narrow beneath a faded navy windbreaker that hung loosely from his frame. His skin was leathered by sun and wind, a map of wrinkles etched deep around his mouth and eyes. A gray beard clung stubbornly to his jaw, uneven and bristled. His cap sat low over brows that permanently seemed to be judging someone.
Which, at the moment, was them.
He checked a battered silver watch on his wrist and let out a sound that could only be described as a scoff sharpened into a blade.
"You said you'd be here when the big hand kissed the twelve," he snapped, voice gravel dragged over stone. "It's nearly kissing the three now."
The principal stepped forward smoothly, apology already arranged across her expression.
Behind her, students exchanged looks.
Three?
Adam frowned slightly, glancing toward the sky. The sun had shifted higher than it should have been. Had they lost that much time on the road? Although deep down he knew very well it was his fault they were late.
The old man waved a hand as though swatting flies. "Doesn't matter. Ferry's fueled. Tide's decent. Let's move before it changes its mind."
Logistics followed in quick, clipped exchanges. Headcount confirmed. Luggage counted. Instructions barked to two deckhands who looked far younger and far less grumpy than their employer.
The ferry waiting at the end of the dock was long and narrow, built for speed rather than comfort. Silver body. Dark tinted windows. Twin engines resting low in the water like coiled muscle.
Students filed in, chatter returning in waves as the tension of the scolding dissolved into excitement again.
Adam stepped aboard with the rest, the deck vibrating faintly under his shoes. The smell intensified here, fuel and lake water and sun heated metal blending into a sharp cocktail.
Seats filled quickly.
Bryce had already claimed a pair near the middle beside Aiva. They were leaning toward each other over something on his phone, heads nearly touching.
Adam paused.
He considered.
Then decided to leave them be.
His eyes scanned the cabin.
Window seat.
Empty seat beside it.
Occupied seat beyond that.
Luna?
She sat angled toward the glass, one earbud in, elbow resting against the ledge. The lake stretched beyond her, light scattering across the surface in fractured silver. Her reflection shimmered faintly in the window, layered over the water.
She looked… composed.
Short sleeved white school tee, fitted just enough to trace the clean lines of her bosom and torso. The deep red tracksuit trousers hugged her large hips and thighs, silver accents catching light when she shifted. Pink and white trainers rested lightly against the seat in front of her.
Her snow-white hair was different.
A tad shorter.
Her bangs stopped just above her shoulders now, swept decisively toward the right side in a smooth arc that framed her face. It reminded Adam vaguely of a comic book heroine he had once seen Bryce obsess over. Clean. Intentional. Effortlessly cool.
Her grey eyes reflected sunlight when she turned slightly, though her gaze remained fixed outside.
Adam slid into the empty seat beside her.
He nudged her gently.
She removed one earbud with visible reluctance and looked at him without warmth.
"I don't remember saying you could sit here."
Adam blinked. "There was a free seat."
She studied him for half a second longer, then sighed softly. "Since you're here, do me a favor."
"Yeah?"
"Pretend you don't exist."
She placed the earbud back in.
Adam stared forward.
Honestly?
That tracked.
He folded his arms and leaned back as the ferry engines roared to life.