CHAPTER 36
The morning sunlight was streaming through my window, but I was still staring at the spot on my bed where I'd been sitting the night before, my mind a blur of Zack's scent and the lingering fear of the "Shadow."
"BOOO!"
"AHH!" I screamed, nearly leaping out of my skin as I scrambled backward, my heart slamming against my ribs like a trapped bird.
Heather was standing there, doubled over with laughter, her hands on her knees. She had snuck into my room while I was lost in thought, and she looked way too proud of herself.
"Oh my god, Jane! You should have seen your face!" she wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Your soul literally left your body for a second."
"Heather!" I gasped, clutching my chest and trying to catch my breath. "That is not funny! I'm already on edge, and you're out here giving me a heart attack?"
Heather stopped laughing and walked over, sitting on the edge of my bed with a casual shrug. "Relax, girl. I did it because you were looking all gloomy again." She reached out and gave my shoulder a playful nudge. "You don't have to worry about it. I've been keeping an eye out, and honestly, if I can sneak in here that easily, it just proves you need to stop overthinking and start living a little."
I slumped back against my pillows, the adrenaline slowly fading. "You're impossible."
"I'm a genius, actually," Heather corrected, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. "Now, stop looking like the world is ending. You survived the 'Lone House,' you survived Zack's muscles, and you survived my jump scare. You're basically invincible now."
She looked at me more closely, her smirk softening. "Seriously, Jane. Don't let the fear ruin the vibe. Zack is obsessed with you, I'm your bodyguard, and the school year is almost over. We've got this."
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that her being able to sneak in meant that only she could. But as I grabbed my bag to head to school, I couldn't help but wonder if Person V was laughing just as hard as Heather was.
Heather and I walked toward the school gates, the morning air crisp against my face. I was bracing myself, half-expecting a crowd or another one of Ashley's dramatic scenes.
But as the school came into view, the first thing I saw wasn't a crowd. It was Zack.
He was leaning against the stone pillar of the main gate, his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't looking at his phone or talking to anyone; his eyes were fixed on the path, searching. The moment his gaze landed on me, his entire posture changed. The tension in his shoulders dropped, and a look of pure relief washed over his face.
He didn't care that dozens of students were walking past, whispering and pointing. He stepped away from the gate and started walking toward us before we were even halfway there.
"Zack's definitely not nowhere to be found," Heather whispered, giving me a sharp poke in the ribs. "Look at him. He looks like he hasn't slept a wink, and he's still the best-looking thing in this zip code."
I didn't have time to respond because Zack was already standing in front of me. He ignored the stares of the passing sophomores and reached out, taking my hand and interlacing his fingers with mine.
"I stayed up thinking about last night," he said, his voice low and private. "I wanted to be the first thing you saw when you got here."
He squeezed my hand, his green eyes scanning my face to make sure I was okay. Behind him, I could see the usual suspects near the entrance—students who lived for the school forum drama—but Zack didn't give them a second glance.
"Hey, Prince Charming," Heather chimed in, leaning around me with a smirk. "Glad to see you're on guard duty. Jane was a little jumpy this morning."
Zack's expression darkened slightly, his protective instincts clearly kicking in. "Did something happen?"
I looked at Heather, then back at Zack. I didn't want to tell him about the "jumpscare" or the lingering feeling of being watched, especially after our talk at the house. "I'm fine, Zack. Just glad to see you."
I looked at Zack, his fingers still tightly laced with mine. Even with the morning sun hitting the school gates, the conversation from the lone house was still looping in my mind. I needed to know if he was really okay with everything shifting.
"Zack," I said, leaning in a little closer so only he could hear. "About what I said last night... about Luke. I've been thinking about it more. I really do think he'd be a better leader for the group."
Heather, never one to miss a beat, nodded vigorously beside me. "She's right, Zack. Luke has that focused energy. Besides, you've got enough on your plate just keeping this girl from jumping out of her skin."
Zack let out a long, weary sigh, though a small, amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He looked down at me, his green eyes softening as he squeezed my hand. "Jane, I already told you. Do as you like. If you think Luke is the one for the job, then I'm behind you. I don't need the title."
I beamed at him, feeling a massive weight lift off my chest. "Thank you, Zack."
Suddenly, the peaceful moment was shattered by a loud, familiar laugh. Ray came swaggering up from behind us, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Without warning, he swung his arm over Heather's shoulders, attempting to lift her off the ground in one of his typical "tough guy" displays.
"Morning, losers! Who are we leading today?" Ray barked, grinning.
He didn't even get to finish his sentence. Heather didn't skip a beat—she planted her foot and kicked him sharply from behind, right in the back of the knee.
"Ow! Dammit, Heather!" Ray yelped, stumbling forward as his leg buckled. He clutched his knee, glaring at her while she calmly smoothed out her jacket.
"Touch me again and I'll make sure you can't walk to graduation, Ray," Heather said sweetly, her eyes flashing a warning.
Zack chuckled, the first real sound of genuine humor I'd heard from him all morning. For a second, standing there with my best friend, my boyfriend, and even the annoying Ray, things felt... normal.
But as we began to walk through the main doors, the air chilled. I looked up and saw Ashley standing at the top of the stairs. She wasn't looking at Zack this time. She was looking directly at me,
We all filed into the classroom, the tension from the gate still buzzing in my ears. The seating was perfect—Zack on one side of me and Heather on the other—forming a small fortress of safety.
A few minutes later, Mr. Peterson walked in, dropping a heavy stack of papers onto his desk. He adjusted his glasses and scanned the room with a sharp gaze.
"Alright, settle down," he announced. "Any candidates for class leader?"
The room went dead silent. Nobody wanted the responsibility, especially with the 'Shadow' drama looming over the school. I felt a pair of eyes on me and turned slightly. Luke was staring at me from three rows back, his expression unreadable but his gaze intense. I quickly turned toward Zack, who just shrugged, his hand finding mine under the desk.
"Since no one is stepping up," Mr. Peterson sighed, "I'm giving you one hour to decide who suits the position best. Discuss amongst yourselves."
The class erupted into low whispers. Heather didn't wait a second. She stood up, smoothed her skirt, and marched to the front of the room like she owned the place.
"Listen up!" she called out, silencing the room. "I have some people who could lead this class."
She began pacing the front of the blackboard. "First, Zack. He's extraordinary, obviously. But," she paused, casting a pointed look at me and Zack's joined hands, "due to his current state—and his 'distractions'—he is not available for the role."
A few people snickered, and I felt my face heat up. Zack just leaned back, looking completely unbothered.
"Next," Heather continued, "is Rafiyal Don. He's the best at academics in this room, no contest. But I asked him about it five minutes ago, and he admitted he has no social skills to lead a group of people. So, that's my assessment."
The classroom was buzzing with anticipation as Luke didn't back down. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on Heather at the front of the room.
"How about you, Heather?" Luke challenged, his voice steady.
Heather stood there for a moment, the silence stretching as she actually seemed to consider it. Then, she let out a sharp, dry laugh. "Well, you see... I have a very short temper," she admitted, gesturing vaguely to the rest of the students. "And to be honest, you guys are the worst. If I were leader, I would definitely kick all your asses the second you messed things up. So, no. I am not suitable for it."
The class went silent again, half-convinced she was actually serious about the ass-kicking part.
Heather turned her attention away from the crowd and looked directly at me. I was currently having a very hard time escaping from Zack's bicep; he had his arm draped heavily over the back of my chair, pulling me in so close that I was practically pinned against his side. I tried to wiggle free, my face flushed, but his grip was firm and protective.
"Jane?" Heather asked loudly, a smirk playing on her lips. "Since you're finally coming up for air over there... do you have any options for us?"
I stopped struggling against Zack's arm for a second, feeling the weight of the entire class's gaze on me. Zack didn't move an inch; he just rested his chin near my shoulder, waiting to see what I'd say. I looked over at Luke, who was still watching me with that same intense, quiet expectation.
"I..." I started, my voice sounding small in the large room. I glanced at Zack, then back at the class. "I think we need someone who observes more than they speak. Someone who isn't interested in the drama or the 'Prince' titles."
I took a deep breath. "I nominate Luke."
The room erupted into murmurs. Luke's expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at me. Zack's arm tightened just a fraction around my shoulder, his silent way of saying he was sticking to his promise—he was letting me make the call.
I gripped the edge of the teacher's podium, my knuckles turning white. I had expected some pushback, but the sheer intensity of the class's reaction felt like a physical wall.
"I want to nominate Luke," I said, my voice firmer this time as I looked out at the sea of skeptical faces.
The classroom didn't just murmur—it erupted. Alexander stood up abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor. "What do you mean, Jane? He is an arrogant bastard! He doesn't even care about this class, let alone leading it. He only cares about himself!"
Before I could even open my mouth to defend my choice, Ethan stood up on the other side of the room, his face twisted in disbelief. "And what do you mean he avoids drama? Jane, how can you forget that he made fun of your goal to find the 'meaning of life' in front of everyone? He was brutal to you!"
The room dissolved into a chorus of protests. "He's a loner!" "He'll just ignore us!"
The noise was deafening, a wave of collective anger crashing toward the front of the room. I felt myself shrinking back, but then a sharp, palm-stinging crack echoed through the air.
Heather had slammed her hand down on the teacher's desk with enough force to make the pens jump.
"SHUT UP! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!" she roared, her face turning that specific shade of red that meant someone was about to get hurt. She stepped forward, her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as she scanned the rows. "If I hear one more whiny word about who mocked who, I'm going to start throwing desks! Jane is talking, so you are going to listen, or you can deal with me!"
The classroom went instantly, deathly silent. Even Alexander and Ethan slowly sank back into their seats, eyes wide. Heather huffed, crossing her arms and nodding toward me. "Go on, Jane. They're listening now."
gripped the edge of the podium, my knuckles white as I forced myself to meet the eyes of the boy sitting in the back. Memories of a time before Zack—before the blackmail, when things were simpler but somehow more volatile—rushed through my mind. We had a history that no one in this room knew about, a past that felt like a lifetime ago.
I felt a sudden, sharp sting in my eyes. A tear escaped, rolling down my cheek before I could catch it. I quickly rubbed it away with a frantic swipe of my sleeve, but it was too late.
Zack was already on his feet. He looked at me, then at the boy in the back, his expression a mask of pure confusion. He could sense the invisible thread connecting us, and it clearly unsettled him.
"Luke is the best leader," I repeated, my voice trembling.
"Why?" Zack asked, his voice echoing in the silent room. He sounded genuinely shocked, almost hurt that I was pushing so hard for someone like him. "Jane, why him? He's a bully. He's arrogant. He spends more time in detention than in his seat. Why are you choosing him?"
I took a shaky breath, looking at Zack's concerned face and then back at the class.
"Well, you see..." I sighed, trying to stay composed. "Since Victor is the leader of Class A and Ashley is the leader of Class B, they've basically turned the school into their playground. Everyone is scared of them. Everyone follows their rules."
I looked back at Luke. He was leaning back in his chair, a mocking, familiar smile playing on his lips as he watched me. He looked exactly like the troublemaker everyone knew him to be—the one who talked back to teachers and broke every rule in the handbook.
"The only one who is not affected by them is Luke," I added, my voice growing stronger. "He doesn't care about their 'royalty' status. He doesn't care about the social ladder. He is the only one who can actually face them without flinching, because he's already the guy the teachers and the 'elites' can't control."
The class erupted into a chaotic discussion. People were shouting over each other, some laughing at the idea of a known bully leading them, while others looked thoughtful.
Luke's smile widened, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that told me he remembered everything I was trying to hide. He was the one person who could stop Ashley, but he was also the one person who could break my heart all over again.
I walked back to my seat and sank down next to Zack. The air between us felt heavy, charged with a thousand questions he hadn't asked yet. He leaned in, his green eyes clouded with a mix of suspicion and hurt.
"How do you know him so well, Jane?" he whispered, his voice tight. "You talk about him like you know exactly what's going on in his head."
I felt a pang of guilt. I reached out, gently placing my hands over his chin, forcing him to look at me and stay grounded in the present. "Zack... he used to be my friend," I said softly, choosing my words carefully. It wasn't the whole truth—not by a long shot—but it was all I could give him while the whole class was watching.
Zack's jaw tightened under my touch, and he turned to see Luke. Across the room, Luke was leaning back, that arrogant, knowing smile still fixed on his face as he watched us. He looked like he was enjoying the sight of the "Prince" looking so unsettled.
The next hour was a blur of heated debates and whispered arguments. Heather paced the aisles like a drill sergeant, shutting down anyone who tried to bring up Luke's past suspensions. Gradually, the mood shifted. The class realized that having a bully on their side was better than being victims of Ashley's games.
Finally, the class representative stood up. "It's okay, Jane. We'll let Luke lead."
Just then, Mr. Peterson walked back in, checking his watch. "Time's up. Who is the candidate?"
A chorus of voices rose from the desks. "It's Luke."
Mr. Peterson froze, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. He looked at Luke—who was currently balancing his chair on two legs—and then back at the class. "Luke? The same Luke who has a permanent seat in my Saturday detention?"
"The very same, sir," Heather chirped, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
"Fine," Peterson sighed, scribbling the name down. "God help us all. Luke, you're the new class leader."
As the bell rang, Luke stood up, his eyes locking onto mine one last time before he swaggered toward the door. Zack's arm immediately went around my waist, pulling me close, his possessive streak flaring up.
"Friend or not," Zack muttered into my ear as we walked out, "I don't trust the way he looks at you."