"I can't believe summer is over!" I groaned to Emmeline as we walked through the school gates the next morning.
"I'm sorry, but I'm way more excited for the new hot P.E. teacher coming from Morocco this year. And you, my friend, have a chance. I heard you guys stick for each other."
Emmeline smirked, bumping my shoulder playfully.
"You must be kidding me. All I wanted was to lie on those golden beaches and not think about anything, especially men. They're useless," I said, rolling my eyes so hard they nearly got stuck.
Emmeline laughed. "Oh, come on, Tafukt. Don't tell me you're changing colors now."
"Ah, shut up. And I told you not to call me that," I muttered.
Yup. My name is Tafukt. It means the sun in Amazigh. Cool, right? Except I never felt like it fit.
I don't even look like a "Tafukt." Dark brown hair, brown eyes, and skin so pale it practically glows. I'm more moonlight than sunshine.
I hated that name growing up. Still kinda do. It made me stand out when all I wanted was to fade in. Every time they said it out loud in class, it was like setting off a flare. Teachers couldn't even spell it right.
My parents are Moroccan. Amazigh, and proud of it. My mom never gets tired of telling me stories about her childhood, especially about her father, who died when she was only ten. Every summer she brings out the same tales, like family heirlooms wrapped in her voice—rich, rhythmic, ancient.
But my favorite? Dihiya. The warrior queen. The legend.
She wasn't just brave, she was fierce. A real badass. She led her people against Arab expansion in North Africa during the 7th century. They say she was sharp as a blade and beautiful like the desert sun. While others surrendered, she fought not just with swords, but with strategy. She united tribes, stood up to invaders, and was feared by empires. They called her the Kahina, a name whispered in awe and fear.
She wasn't just a woman. She was a force.
I want to be like her.
We spent the summer in Morocco—Agadir, to be exact. It's where my dad's side of the family lives and Adam, my stupid cousin. I hate him.
What I did love was the beach.
That beach was everything. Calm. Golden. Blue so deep it looked like it could swallow the sky. It felt like home in a way California never has.
I hate school.
My P.E. teacher—Mr. Müller, made fun of me once. "Tafuuukeet. You're not living up to that name, maybe in your own country," he snapped, laughing right after I failed to serve the ball during a handball game.
Everyone was there. Everyone. Even Dreck.
I was so angry it felt like fire crawling under my skin. For a moment, I wanted the whole place to disappear, to burn to nothing, just so the noise would stop.
Somehow, Emmeline calmed me down. She was always by my side, the only one who really saw me for who I was. Sometimes it felt like she understood me better than my own parents. Even now, remembering it, I realize how rare that kind of loyalty is.
Something Dreck wasn't.
But I wasn't surprised the next day when we heard that Mr. Müller had been caught cheating on his wife. The school had no choice but to act. No parent wanted that man anywhere near their kids anymore.
So he was called in to meet with the principal.
And me? I was there, waiting. Locked, loaded, and ready with my line.
I stood in the hallway as he passed and said it loud enough for everyone to hear:
"Seems like Mr. Müller couldn't live up to his wife's expectations…
Neither could what's in his pants."
Boom. Students laughed. Whispered. Then Silence.
That day, everything changed. People looked at me differently. Not with pity. Not with judgment. But with this strange kind of… awe.
As if they were scared that crossing me would get them into trouble too.
And they were right to be afraid. I never felt normal. Not since my brother died in a car accident.
That's when it started...the whispers, the things I saw. The nightmares.
My parents think it is just trauma. For a while, I thought so too.
But whatever is happening to me… it feels real. Too real.
What I hate the most about coming back to school? The red and yellow colors of my high school uniform. Ugh. Clown couture.
I was digging through my school locker, trying to find a hoodie that would cover most of it, when I spotted something.
"Is that a music box?" Emmeline asked.
"I… I don't know. I don't remember having one, or putting it here," I answered, picking it up carefully.
It was small, carved from dark, polished wood that gleamed even in the dim locker light. Strange symbols ran along the edges, twisting and curling like ancient runes, and delicate floral carvings covered its lid. Something about it felt… alive.
"Let me see," Emmeline said, and I handed it over.
The first time she saw it, her eyes widened.
"What?" I asked nervously.
"It… it's so beautiful. Who gave you this?" she asked, her voice awkward.
I swallowed. It made me nervous. "I… I just found it. Maybe it's a gift from someone who watches too many romance movies," I joked, but she didn't laugh.
Emmeline was still staring at it as if she could read the symbols carved into the wood.
"Emmeline? You okay?" I asked.
"Oh… yeah. I was just…"
"Hey, Taty!" someone called from behind me. I jolted, spun around, and froze.
Holy moly. Bloody Mary. Who is this handsome…?
"Emmeline, do you see what I see?" I whispered. "Emmi?" She was frozen beside me, jaw slightly open. I pinched her arm.
"Taylor?!" Emmeline finally asked, surprised.
Wait… Taylor? The same nerdy kid who'd been obsessed with me since third grade?
But that Taylor had been awkward. Small. Always chewing on hoodie strings, blushing whenever I said hi.
This Taylor? Not that boy. This was a man.
Short, blond hair. Deep blue eyes that seemed to hold… something. Purpose, maybe. Something that made him feel untouchable and alive.
And his tan...no, not the dusty, pale kind from middle school. This was a sun-kissed, warm tan that made me want to reach out, just to see if it was real.
His lips… full. A strange mix of blue and pink, like they couldn't decide on a color, so they picked both danger and softness.
I'd heard he'd gone to rehab last year...drugs, pills, cigarettes. Still fighting the last one, I think. But if this was what surviving hell looked like, then damn maybe we need more of that. Because I need more… of this
"Taty?" Taylor laughed.
I froze. Great. My thoughts weren't as private as I thought. My face always gives me away.
"Yeah, hi! I… I'm sorry. You just—uh, you surprised me. I mean, wow. Your… change. Exquisite change. I almost didn't recognize you!" I snapped, realizing how awkward I sounded.
"Yeah, Taylor, looks like you finally hit puberty!" Emmi added, equally awkward.
Before I could respond, someone hugged me from behind.
"At least someone did!" a voice called, teasing
We spun around to see who it was, just as I got shoved and stumbled.
Taylor's arms were there in an instant. He caught me.
OMG. Am I dreaming? Am I finally living my high school love story?
But… I always preferred haters-to-lovers.
"Oww, what a couple," a voice teased.
I turned—and froze. My freaking cousin.
"What the hell are you doing here, Adam?!" I snapped.
"I got my ass accepted into your high school on a scholarship," he said casually.
"What?" I groaned.
"Ah, stop acting like you didn't know. No way your family didn't tell you," he laughed, walking off.
I couldn't believe they'd kept this from me!
"Hey! Where are you staying?" I called after him.
"Tafukt, you'll be seeing me first thing when you wake up and last before you sleep," he said, scanning me in the most disgusting way before stalking off.
"Tat, is everything alright? Who was that?" Emmi asked.
I realized Taylor wasn't the only one staring...half the school was, too. Great. I hadn't even noticed I'd been that loud.
But honestly, what I cared about most wasn't them. Was this what they were arguing about yesterday?
"Taylor, it was… nice to see you again. Emmi, can you take my books to class? I have to make a phone call," I said, forcing a smile as I rushed toward the bathroom.
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Emmeline asked, worried.
"No, I'll be fine. Don't worry."
I called my mom first.
The phone rang once before she picked up.
"Honey, how's school?" she started.
"Please tell me this is a joke!" I snapped.
"What jok—"
"What the hell is Smelly Feet doing in my school, Mom?!"
"We'll discuss this when you're home. Now focus on your classes," she said casually.
"I can't believe you!" I started, but she hung up before I could finish.
"Mom? Mom! Shit!"
I shoved the phone into the sink and stared at my reflection. And there it was again—my eyes. A smudge of purple that vanished the instant I blinked.
Shaking off the weird feeling, I left the bathroom, only to stumble into someone. I couldn't tell if it was a chest or a back. My head was spinning, and I felt myself about to fall, But a hand caught me, lifted me slightly, and held me against a firm chest.
"Watch where you're going," a calm, annoyed voice said.
I looked up. Dreck. His green eyes were sharp, but he didn't stop. He just kept walking, as if the hallway and everyone in it was in his way and he was already late for something important.
I watched him walk away, heart hammering like a drum in my chest.
Of course. Classic me falling for the guy who can probably bench-press a small car and still look like he just stepped out of a magazine.
I remembered when he wasn't like this. Dreck used to be kind.
Back when we first moved here, everyone already had a story about me: troublemaker. As if my name confirmed it. They whispered, pushed, laughed but Dreck never did. He sat next to me anyway. He defended me anyway.
We became inseparable; studying together, eating together, working summer jobs when my parents couldn't afford vacations. He made me feel safe.
Then his mom died. And he disappeared. The next time I saw him was at Emmi's birthday. I tried to talk to him but he shoved me into the pool. I almost didn't come back up. Taylor pulled me out, coughing and choking, while Dreck just stood there… like a stranger.
I shook my head, trying to shove the thoughts away. "Focus, Tafukt. Focus on school, not forest-green eyes and muscles."
But it was useless.
The bell for first period rang. Pain detonated behind my eyes. A high, piercing whine filled my ears and then a whisper.
"Follow him."
My breath caught. It felt like a thousand needles piercing my skull.
"Follow Dreck. Now."
Then the bell stopped. The pain vanished. Just like that. I blinked, trembling.
"Follow Dreck?" I murmured. "What… what was that?"
I followed him down the narrow hallways, my footsteps quiet against the linoleum. He didn't look back, didn't slow. And yet, some pull I couldn't explain kept me moving, like my body had its own mind.
He stopped at the far end of the gym, by the row of old changing lockers, ones students rarely used. The air felt colder here, heavier, as if the hallway itself had narrowed, pressing in. The smell of metal and dust made my stomach churn.
I froze, my eyes locked on him. Dreck's hand rose slowly to his temple, his finger pressing lightly against the skin of his forehead. He closed his eyes—and suddenly, the air shifted.
He started speaking, softly at first. Murmurs that didn't sound like any language I knew. His lips moved, but no sound reached me—only vibrations in the air, a strange resonance that made the hairs on my arms stand on end.
Then, out of nowhere, shadows burst from the corners of the room, twisting and writhing along the walls, pooling on the floor. The dim light of the lockers flickered as if the world itself had hiccupped.
Dreck gasped, a sharp, ragged sound. His jaw clenched, shoulders tensing, as though invisible hands pressed into him, forcing him down. Pain, anger, fear—resistance—I could see it all in his face. He was struggling against something unseen.
"Dreck?" I whispered, stepping closer, but he didn't look at me. His eyes remained clenched shut, head tilting as if listening to someone—or something—no one else could see.
My chest tightened, my stomach twisting into knots. I should run. I should turn and escape.
But the shadows had returned, swirling faster now, thick and alive, wrapping around the lockers, crawling up the walls, coiling along the floor. The air hummed with energy—heavy, electric—making my hair stand on end.
Dreck sagged against the lockers, hand still pressed to his temple, face twisted in pain. He was shaking, muttering words I couldn't understand, as if some invisible force forced him to obey.
And then I heard it—a voice, soft but urgent, piercing through the storm:
Save him.
I froze. The words sliced through the roar of shadows. My heart hammered so hard it felt like it would burst.
Save him… save him…
The whisper repeated, insistent, echoing inside my skull.
"Who… who's there?" I shouted, though my voice sounded tiny against the chaos.
Save him. Now.
The shadows writhed violently, lashing toward him, pressing like they wanted to crush him. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But the whisper dug deeper, urgent and demanding. I couldn't ignore it.
My feet moved before I could think. I stepped into the storm, cold fingers of shadow brushing against my arms, legs, even my face. Every step was like walking through thick smoke, the air heavy with static and fear.
"Dreck!" I called, reaching for him. He flinched, recoiling from the invisible force pressing on him, pain etched into every line of his face.
Save him! The whisper screamed inside my head, almost tangible now, pulling me forward. I felt the urge to fight the shadows, to grab him, to protect him...though I didn't know how.
The shadows surged again, taller, darker, alive. I realized with a rush of fear that if I hesitated, they would tear him apart. And then, despite every instinct screaming at me to run, I lunged, hands outstretched, into the storm.
I stood in front of Dreck as if I knew how to protect him. My hands started stinging, burning like they had in the dream, hot and alive under my skin. I looked down, panicked and froze.
My arms were no longer bare. Symbols, intricate and glowing, had erupted across my skin, etched like fire onto my flesh. They pulsed and shimmered, twisting and writhing as if alive. My heart pounded, my breath ragged.
Heat crawled up my arms, burning into my shoulders, and the air around me shivered. The shadows shrieked, recoiling from the light pouring from the markings, writhing like snakes against invisible walls. I had no idea how this was happening, only that I couldn't let the darkness touch him.
Dreck's eyes widened, shock and fear flashing across his face, but before he could speak, a wave of power surged from me, stronger than I expected. The force slammed into the hallway, rattling lockers, twisting shadows, screaming inside my mind.
I tried to hold it, to control it, but it was too much. The fire in my arms burned brighter, hotter, and my vision blurred. The roar of the shadows, the heat, the surge...it was unbearable. My legs buckled, my arms went limp, and everything went black.