Shaine's POV
I was forcefully shaken awake by Abby. I let out a low groan, burying my face under my pillow to hide from the morning light.
"Come on, sis! We're going to be late," she chirped.
With another groan, I dragged myself out of bed. My hair was a wild, bird-nest mess, and my eyes were still fighting to stay open. It's Friday, I reminded myself. Just one more day. I pushed through my morning routine, splashing cold water on my face and tugging on my uniform.
"Shaine, dear! Breakfast time!" Mom's voice echoed up from the kitchen. I grabbed my bag and phone, nearly flying down the staircase.
"Shaine, please be careful! You're going to hit your head again," Mom warned the second I skidded into my chair.
I didn't answer; I was too busy gobbling down my breakfast, humming a fragmented tune between bites.
"Your aunt said to wait for Elly down the street," Mom added happily, taking a sip of her coffee. "I'm so glad he's feeling better. It's good to have him back on his feet."
"Yeah, he seems ready to be back on the field again," Abby added, her voice light as she reached for a piece of toast.
I slowed my humming, my gaze drifting to the head of the table. "Dad's early at work again, huh?" I said quietly, the words feeling heavy in the morning air. I stared blankly at his empty chair, noting the way the sunlight hit the polished wood where he should have been sitting.
Mom's shoulders dropped slightly as she let out a soft sigh. She didn't answer right away, instead standing up to clear a stray plate, her movements practiced and a little too fast.
"You know your dad, busy as always."
I hummed as a response with a low, absent tune, my mind already drifting away from the kitchen and into the hazy edges of my imagination.
"Be careful, and don't stay too late at school!" Mom called out, her voice bright and hopeful as she waved us off.
Abby and I reached the door, the transition from the warm house to the crisp morning air making me shiver. We sat on the porch step to tug on our shoes in silence. As we stepped out onto the pavement, the world felt too loud, too sharp, like a photograph with the contrast turned up too high. What a nice day.
Elly stood there, his silhouette framed by the morning sun. In his neat uniform, with his hair perfectly swept back, he looked undeniably handsome, the kind of look that usually commanded attention without him even trying.
"Hey, Elly," Abby chirped, while I offered him a silent, knowing nod. We started to walk toward school, the pavement warm under our shoes as we checked in on his recovery.
"Mom went full overprotective mode," Elly complained, though his eyes were dancing with mischief. "Locked me in my room for days. I was bored to death! You guys are terrible cousins for not visiting."
"Please," Shaine shot back with a grin. "You didn't even break a bone. Why would we waste a perfectly good afternoon on you?"
We were still laughing when we arrived at the school gates, merging into the number of students and the low hum of morning gossip. Suddenly, Alex and June materialized out of the crowd. June didn't even say hello; he just launched himself at Elly, clinging to him like a clingy sloth.
"Bro, I missed you so much!" June wailed, faking a sob into Elly's shoulder.
"Get off me, you creep!" Elly yelled, shoving June's face away while the rest of us laughed at their nonsense.
We made our way through the courtyard until we reached the fork in the path. "See you guys at lunch!" Abby called out, waving as she headed toward her classroom. Elly and I shared a look of mutual exhaustion with a glimpse of adoration; our rooms were still on the third floor, and the climb was basically a morning workout we hadn't signed up for.
Before I could turn toward the stairs, I caught Elly's eye. "Hey, Elly. Abby and I... we have something to talk to you about."
His expression shifted instantly, the confusion clouding his handsome features. He gave a slow, hesitant nod. "Let's eat by the field later," I added, my voice dropping an octave.
"Oh, can we join in with you guys?" June asked, his usual grin plastered on his face.
"No."
The word was like a wall of ice. June actually recoiled, slipping behind Elly as if seeking a human shield. "Sheesh, no need to be scary," I heard him whisper to Alex. I didn't apologize; I just sighed and turned away, my mind already rehearsing what I had to tell Elly about the twisted oak tree.
I navigated the maze of desks without making eye contact, the chatter of my classmates sounding like hums in my ears. I reached my seat and practically collapsed, dropping my head onto the cool, hard surface of the table with a dull thud.
"Mornin', sleepyhead." The table wobbled beneath me, the unmistakable sign that Bea had claimed her usual perch on the edge of my desk.
"Morning, guys," I murmured, barely lifting my hand to wave at Edith.
"Not in your usual mood?" Edith noted, her voice dropping as she pulled her chair closer. I just hummed in response. I couldn't be "sunny" today. My mind was a tangled mess of twisted oak trees and Abby's wide, frightened eyes. The conversation from last night was like a parasite, crawling through my thoughts and refusing to let go.
Edith and Bea launched into their usual rapid-fire chatter, their voices bouncing off each other like a bouncy ball. I stayed exactly where I was, my head still resting on the cool wood, listening to the rhythmic rise and fall of their laughter. Edith was on a roll, spinning together the kind of ridiculous, off-the-wall stories only she could think of.
"Class, please settle down," our teacher said in a serious tone as he walked in; his footsteps echoed with dignified confidence, breaking down the loud chatters of the whole class.
The teacher's voice droned on about homeroom announcements, but the words were just background noise. My mind was elsewhere, my hand moving across the page in a series of jagged scribbles and strange, distorted shapes. Suddenly, a spike of pain shot through my head. I gasped, my fingers instinctively locking around my pen until my knuckles turned white. The pressure built behind my eyes, turning from a throb into a relentless, crushing, and hammering weight. I dropped the pen and dug my nails into my scalp, pulling at my hair as a muffled groan escaped my throat. I was drowning in the pain, gasping right there in the middle of first period.
"Ms. Moores."
I forced my head up; my vision was swimming as I met the teacher's concerned gaze. My hair was a bird's nest between my fingers, a physical symbol of the agony I was hiding.
"Is everything alright, Ms. Moores?"
I opened my mouth to lie, to say I was just tired, but a fresh piercing spike driven into my temple cut the words short. A raw scream of agony tore from my throat, a sound I didn't even recognize as my own. The world tilted, and the next thing I knew, the cold linoleum floor was pressed against my cheek. I was thrashing, my brain feeling as though it were being slowly devoured from the inside out.
Through a thick veil of tears, the classroom became a blur of frantic motion. My classmates were a choir of panicked shadows, their mouths moving in silent screams as they crowded around me. The pain was sadistic; it would retreat for a heartbeat, teasing me with relief, before slamming back into my skull with doubled force. I don't remember the hallway or the frantic voices of my classmates rushing me to the infirmary, only the gradual, numbing silence as the infirmary lights finally flickered into view.
I lay there, chest heaving, my breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. My face was a mess of salt and heat, drenched in an overwhelming amount of sweat and tears that felt cold against the pillow.
Through the hazy distance of the room, I could see the teacher huddled with the school nurse, their voices a low, urgent murmur. My classmates lingered at the door like shadows, their faces pale with a worry I didn't have the strength to soothe. But Edith and Bea were frozen still; they refused to budge, gripping my hands so tightly. Eventually, the nurse moved in, her touch firm and cold with surgical gloves as she ushered them out. I watched them go, feeling suddenly small and hollow in the silence.
I kept my eyes anchored to the white ceiling, counting the seconds as the last of the pain in my head finally faded away. I was just starting to breathe normally when the door burst open. Abby and Elly scrambled inside, their faces mirrored masks of worry.
Abby's eyes were rimmed with red, her chest heaving as if she'd run a marathon to get here, while Elly looked ghostly pale, his hands trembling as he reached for the edge of my bed.
"Are you okay? Is your head still hurting? What do you need? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Is the pain coming back—"
"Elly, please," I giggled, the sound weak but genuine. "One question at a time. I can't possibly keep up with all your yapping."
My teasing was cut short as Abby lunged forward, burying her face in my shoulder. Her body shook with heavy, jagged sobs that dampened my uniform. "Please don't make us worry like that again," she choked out. "Especially me. I thought... I thought you were leaving us."
"That's too much,"
I stayed quiet, petting her hair with a steady hand while Elly sank onto the edge of the bed. He didn't say anything else, but the way he watched me, his eyes searching mine for any sign of a lingering flicker, told me he was just as terrified as she was. I let Abby cry until her gasps turned into soft hiccups, whispering calm, sweet words until the "crybaby" I used to know finally looked up, her cheeks flushed and eyes puffy red.
Maybe this is the perfect time for us to talk to Elly.
"Guess lunchtime couldn't wait." I managed a weak chuckle, my gaze shifting to Elly. "Maybe we should have that conversation right now. What do you think, Abby?"
Without a word, Abby nodded, sniffling and drying her tears away. I noticed her gripping the hem of her skirt, her fingers trembling against the fabric. I reached out, placing my hand over hers in a silent promise that we were in this together.
"Tell me, Elly," I said, my voice dropping into a low, steady register. "How have you really been feeling these past few days?"
Elly blinked, the confusion flickering in his dark eyes. "Fine, I guess? Does a sprained ankle count as a crisis?" He tried to laugh, but the sound died in his throat when he saw my expression.
"Elly, I'm being serious. Are you sure?"
The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Elly looked away, his focus dropping to his own hands as if he were seeing something written on his palms. "To tell you the truth..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "Things have been... weird. Really weird."
We didn't say a word, the only sound in the room being our shallow breathing. I felt Abby's fingers lock around mine.
"Remember when I got that nosebleed and they sent me here?" Elly began, his voice barely a ghost of a sound. "The reason I lost focus... believe it or not, it was as if I'd been ripped out of this reality and shoved into another. There was this massive, towering gate. The ground was cold cobblestone. And before I could even breathe, I ran into Sam."
He paused, his eyes glassing over as if he were seeing it all over again. "The same thing happened when I was lying on this very bed. One second I was here, the next I was on a small hill, resting against the roots of a massive tree. I know it sounds impossible, completely unrealistic, but it's the truth. I keep waking up in places I've never been, surrounded by people I don't know."
He buried his face in his hands, his elbows digging into his knees. He looked utterly broken, a mirror image of the frustration and terror Abby and I had been hiding.
"I want to know something, Elly."
"Why did you look so freaked out whenever you looked at me during the game against Leo's team?"
I watched Elly's shoulders flinch as if I'd struck him. He didn't raise his head. "Do I really need to tell you?" he chuckled, his voice trying to hide his trembling, raw, jagged fear.
"Yes," I said, my voice dropping into a hard, serious line. "I have every right to know."
He finally looked up, his face pale and drawn. "Your eyes, Shaine... on that day..."
"What about them?"
"They were pitch black," he choked out. "Your pupils... they swallowed the brown of your eyes until there was nothing left but darkness. No light, no reflection. It was like looking into a void. And when you passed out, you weren't just quiet; you were whispering things, words I couldn't understand, in a voice that didn't sound like yours."
I felt the blood drain from my face. Pitch black eyes. Unknown languages. What in the world is going on?