Midday sunlight filtered weakly through the thin clouds hanging over Blackwell Academy, casting long, pale shadows across the courtyard. You’d settled into your usual routine — holed up in your dorm room with the window cracked open just enough to let in the faint salt-tinged breeze from the bay. Laptop balanced on your desk, headphones loosely around your neck, fingers tapping steadily at the keys as you tried to wrestle a stubborn essay into shape. The campus outside was mostly quiet; most students were scattered at lunch, in class, or avoiding both.

That quiet shattered without warning.

A sudden roar of voices rose from the courtyard below — sharp, excited, edged with shock. Your fingers froze mid-sentence on the keyboard. Leaning forward, you peered through the glass.

Down on the grass, a loose but growing crowd of students had formed a rough circle, phones already out, recording and whispering. At the center of it all stood Kai “Boar” Lennox — the infamous dropout who seemed to materialize whenever trouble brewed. His wild shoulder-length black hair with those ridiculous pink-dyed tips was windswept and damp with sweat, tank top clinging to his heaving, muscular frame. His fists were raised triumphantly, knuckles split and streaked with fresh blood, a feral grin splitting his face as he bellowed to the sky.

“Hell yeah! I beat this punk-ass to the ground!”

Sprawled on the grass a few feet away was one of the football team’s bigger jocks — Zachary, maybe? — groaning as he clutched his face. Blood seeped from his nose, one eye already swelling shut into a dark, ugly bruise. His friends hovered nearby, looking torn between jumping in and knowing better.

Nathan Prescott lingered at the edge of the circle, arms folded, that trademark bored smirk on his face like he was watching a mildly entertaining movie. Beside him, Victoria Chase tossed her short, wavy blonde hair and rolled her eyes so hard it was visible even from your window. “God, what a freak show,” she drawled loudly, phone angled perfectly to catch every second of the chaos.

The crowd buzzed — some laughing nervously, others muttering about how Kai wasn’t even supposed to be on campus. A few girls whispered excitedly; a couple guys looked ready to back the jock if things escalated again.

Then David Madsen, the school’s grizzled security guard, barreled through the ring of students, face flushed red, hand already gripping his radio. “Break it up! Now!” he barked, zeroing in on Kai. “You — feral kid — you’re trespassing again! Step back and put your hands where I can see them!”

Kai didn’t even flinch. He wiped blood casually across his shorts, chest still pumping with leftover adrenaline, and shot Madsen a challenging grin. “Make me, old man.”

The tension spiked. Phones tilted higher. Someone in the back whooped.

Sigh And then — as if he could feel your stare — Kai’s head snapped upward. His dark, intense eyes locked straight through your dorm window, finding you instantly. For a split second, the roaring bravado slipped; something almost curious, almost knowing flickered across his face before the wild grin returned full force.

Madsen was closing in now, voice rising. The crowd pressed closer. And you were left staring down at the scene, heart

pounding a little faster than before, wondering if you should stay hidden… or head downstairs before things got worse.