The bus groaned to a stop in front of Mystic Grove High, coughing out a cloud of dust and diesel as Scott Tyson stepped off with a backpack slung over one shoulder and an edge of restlessness he couldn't shake.
The town hadn't changed. The air still smelled of damp pine. The sky still hung heavy, like it never quite learned how to be blue.
After a few awkward greetings and a rushed schedule pickup, Scott ditched the road and took the familiar trail through the woods toward Sky's house — an old habit from before he moved away with his mother to go live with his step dad
It was almost sunset when he entered the treeline, the orange light filtering through skeletal branches. The wind whispered things he couldn't make out, but it didn't bother him. These woods were his childhood playground.
He didn't notice the silence at first.
Not until the birds stopped. Not until the air shifted — like pressure dropping before a storm.
Then came the sound. Low. Guttural.
A growl.
Scott turned slowly, heart crawling up his throat.
Eyes — golden and glowing — stared at him from the underbrush. A shape lunged. He barely had time to cry out.
The impact knocked him flat. He felt teeth sink into his side — sharp and fast. Pain flared white-hot for a second. Then the weight vanished.
By the time he scrambled to his feet, panting, the forest was empty again. Whatever attacked him was gone.
Blood soaked his hoodie, but the wound wasn't as deep as it felt. More torn fabric than torn flesh.
Still, he staggered the rest of the way out, refusing to call for help. He didn't even know what to say. "Hey, bestie, I just got mauled by a forest monster"? No thanks.
When Sky Melvin opened the door, Scott nearly collapsed onto the porch.
"Scott?" Sky blinked. "What the hell happened?"
Scott tried to shrug it off, leaning on the railing. "Took the old path through the woods. Guess some wild animal didn't like me trespassing."
Sky's eyes narrowed. "You're bleeding."
"It's not bad."
"Sit down."
Scott obeyed with a groan, flopping onto the porch swing as Sky grabbed the first-aid kit.
"I swear," Sky muttered as he dabbed the wound, "first day back and you're already pulling this crap?"
"Nice to see you too,we both know your more trouble than I am," Scott murmured, his smirk faint but familiar.
Sky rolled his eyes but didn't let go of his arm.
For a moment, the porch was quiet. The wind rattled the trees gently. A car drove past on the road. The moment felt...normal.
But Sky noticed it. The faint heat under Scott's skin. The way his pupils shrank at the porch light. The way the wound already looked less angry than it had a few minutes ago.
Scott didn't notice any of it.
He just leaned his head back, eyes fluttering closed.
"God, I missed this place," he mumbled.
Sky didn't say anything for a long time.
Then, softly, he said, "Yeah. I missed you too."
The morning sun cut through the blinds of Sky's room, casting stripes across Scott's face. He blinked awake slowly, wincing as he sat up. The pain in his side had dulled to a sharp ache, but it wasn't unbearable — not anymore.
His hoodie lay folded on the chair. The tear in the side was worse than he remembered. The blood had dried.
Sky was downstairs already, judging by the smell of toast and coffee.
Scott took his time.
---
The halls of Mystic Grove High buzzed with life — fluorescent lights flickering, sneakers squeaking, lockers slamming. It felt smaller than Scott remembered. Narrower. Louder.
He passed a few familiar faces. Some waved. Some didn't. Most just stared — long enough for him to feel like a rumor with legs.
"Scott Tyson?" a voice called from behind.
He turned.
Zelta Twilight stood a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest, her silver-blonde braid swinging slightly. Her violet eyes — the kind no one ever forgot — narrowed in a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.
"Wow," she said. "So it's true. You're back."
Scott gave a cautious smile. "Hey, Z. It's been a while."
"Three years." Her gaze flicked to the bandage peeking out under his shirt. "What happened?"
"Wild dog, maybe. I'm fine."
Before she could reply, another voice cut in. "Zee, come on. Coach'll kill us if we're late."
Jackson White jogged over — Mystic Grove's golden boy, still all broad shoulders and cocky charm. His expression faltered slightly when he saw Scott.
There was a long pause.
Then Jackson said, "Huh. Never thought I'd see you back here."
"Guess we both lost that bet," Scott said, forcing another smile.
The three of them stood in awkward silence — just long enough to remember how close they'd once been, and how far apart they were now.
"Anyway," Jackson said finally, grabbing Zelta's hand, "we gotta run."
Zelta gave Scott one last glance before letting Jackson pull her down the hall.
Scott watched them go, heart sinking just a little. Friends who used to be everything, now barely nodding in the hallway.
He turned and nearly bumped into Sky.
"Don't let them get to you," Sky said, nodding toward the couple disappearing around the corner.
"I'm not."
"You're lying."
Scott smirked faintly. "Maybe a little."
Sky studied him. "You sure you're up for this? You don't look like you slept."
"I didn't sleep much."
"Nightmares?"
Scott hesitated. "Something like that."
They fell into step together, their shoulders brushing. Sky didn't press further — not yet.
But something about Scott had changed.
And Sky wasn't the only one starting to notice.