By Friday morning, I had started to piece together some of the school's rules and routines—at least, the ones that weren't written down. Blackridge Academy had its formal structure, sure—classes, schedules, instructors who seemed strict but fair—but there was an invisible system at play, one I hadn't quite cracked yet. Social hierarchies, power dynamics, unspoken expectations.
I needed to figure it out quickly.
Not because I wanted to fit in. That wasn't the issue. But there was something about Blackridge, something in the way students moved and spoke, that made me feel like I was walking blindfolded through a minefield.
"You're awfully quiet this morning," Aaron said, nudging me in the ribs. He was walking beside me, his energy as uncontainable as always. The pathways were already bustling, students weaving through the crowded space with practiced ease.
"I thought you liked the quiet," I replied, not looking at him.
Aaron grinned. "I do, but you're a special case. It's almost eerie how quiet you are, man."
I didn't respond. There wasn't much point. Aaron filled every silence on his own.
He waved at someone across the street, then turned back to me. "Anyway, I was saying, this weekend we should check out the mall! There's this café the seniors keep talking about. Apparently, their coffee is insane, and they have this chocolate cake that—"
I stopped listening. Aaron didn't seem to notice. He kept talking, the excitement in his voice rising and falling with each word. I watched the way students interacted as we passed them, nods of acknowledgment, quick laughs, shoulders brushing. I had no idea how Aaron managed to weave through the crowd so effortlessly.
The school's structure was clear enough: dorms, classrooms, and various buildings for different activities. But it was the unspoken connections between people that seemed more complex. Everyone seemed to know where they stood—or at least where they were supposed to stand.
Aaron suddenly stopped, pulling me to a halt.
"Hey, Guys!" he said, Waving ahead.
Two boys stood across us at the other side of the pathway, one waving back with much more energy than required, the other standing with arms crossed. They were clearly waiting for someone, and from the way Aaron waved, it was obvious they were his friends.
"Noah, meet my guys," Aaron said as we approached.
The first boy, the one waving, pushed himself upright and extended a hand with an easy grin. He had light brown hair that flopped slightly over his forehead and a relaxed posture that made him seem approachable. "You're his roommate?"
"Noah," I said, shaking his hand.
"Jacob," he said simply, his tone friendly.
The other boy didn't bother offering a hand. He stood rigid, his dark eyes fixed on me with a scrutiny that felt almost invasive. His hair was cropped short, and his sharp features only added to his intense expression.
"I'm Caleb," he said flatly, his tone lacking the warmth Jacob's had.
Aaron clapped me on the back. "These two are the best! Jacob's the guy you go to if you need to chill, and Caleb—well, he's... Caleb."
Caleb's eyes narrowed slightly, and I caught the flicker of irritation in his expression. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Aaron laughed it off, oblivious to the tension. "You're just... intense, man. It's a good thing!"
I could feel Caleb's gaze linger on me, the weight of it pressing down like a challenge.
"So," Jacob said, clearly trying to ease the mood, "how's your first week of classes been, Noah?"
I hesitated before answering. "It's been... fine." Aoron must have already told them I've been here since Monday
"Fine?" Caleb repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. "That's it? Fine?"
I met his gaze, my expression neutral. "Yes."
He scoffed, crossing his arms tighter. "You don't seem like you care about much, do you?"
Aaron shifted uncomfortably, glancing between us. "Hey, Caleb, chill. He's just getting used to things."
Caleb didn't back down. "I'm just saying. Look at him." He gestured toward me with a sharp movement. "Standing there like he's better than everyone."
I blinked, taken aback by the accusation. "I don't think that."
"Really?" Caleb shot back. "Because that's exactly what you look like."
"Okay, okay," Jacob cut in, his tone placating. "Let's not turn this into something it's not. Caleb, he's new. Give him a break."
Caleb glared at me for another moment before finally looking away. "Whatever."
Aaron laughed nervously, clearly eager to lighten the mood. "So! Classes today, huh? Can't wait for math."
"Since when do you care about math?" Jacob asked, smirking.
"Since never," Aaron admitted, grinning. "But if I don't pretend to care, Mr. Lyman's gonna chew me out again."
The conversation shifted, Jacob and Aaron exchanging banter while Caleb stayed silent, his eyes occasionally flicking toward me as if assessing me. I tuned most of it out, focusing instead on the path ahead.
The main building loomed closer, its tall windows glinting in the morning sunlight. The crowd of students thickened as we approached, their chatter growing louder.
"What's going on over there?" Jacob asked, nodding toward a cluster of students gathered near one of the hallways.
Aaron craned his neck to see. "Looks like something's up. Should we check it out?"
Caleb was already moving toward the crowd, his stride purposeful. "Might as well."
We followed, weaving through the mass of students. The air felt heavy, a strange tension settling over the crowd. Whispers and hushed conversations filled the space, the usual buzz of the hallway replaced by something colder.
"What's happening?" Aaron asked, his voice low.
Nobody answered.
As we pushed closer to the front, the murmurs grew sharper, fragments of words reaching my ears. "...dead…" "...found him this morning…" "...why leave the body in public?…"
Then I saw it.
The crowd parted slightly, giving me a clear view of the scene. There, lying motionless on the cold tile floor, was the body of a boy.
My mind caught by surprise and disbelief. The murmurs around me faded into white noise, the world narrowing to the sight before me.
Aaron inhaled sharply beside me. Jacob muttered something under his breath, but I didn't catch it. Even Caleb seemed frozen, his usual bravado replaced by something that looked almost like shock.
The air grew colder, heavier, the weight of the moment pressing down on all of us.
Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.