Page 11

As I sat there recovering, I heard it.

Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

A phone vibrating.

I wouldn’t have thought much of it—until I noticed Ethan pulling his phone out, glancing at the screen, and then immediately shoving it back like it had burned him.

I narrowed my eyes. That was suspicious. Ethan would interrupt his own funeral to answer a call if it meant getting attention. But instead of picking up, he pressed decline. And not just that—he pressed, held, and then… blocked the number.

I blinked.

Huh.

I caught a glimpse of the name before it disappeared: Dad.

I paused, and digested it for a second. First, he couldn't let his dad fix his car. Now, he was blocking him. That was interesting.

Ethan must have felt me staring because he turned his head and glared. "What?"

I quickly looked away, pretending to be very interested in the dirt on my shoe. "Nothing."

Ethan didn’t say anything, but I could feel him watching me. He didn’t like being observed. Probably because he was used to being the one doing the watching.

But before I could process any of this further, a loud voice interrupted.

"A race to the bottom of the mountain!"

I snapped my head toward Max. Of course it had to be.

The second the words left his mouth, everyone slowly turned to look at Mr. Dax.

I prayed—I begged—for him to be the responsible adult he was supposed to be.

"Absolutely not," I whispered under my breath. "Say no. Be reasonable. You’re an educator. Make good choices."

Mr. Dax looked at all of us, crossed his arms, and said—

"Fine."

I knew it.

I would like to formally announce that I was against this.

"Why does everything have to involve running?" I groaned as everyone lined up at the edge of the trail. "We could just… walk. At a normal, civilized pace."

Joy nudged me with her elbow. "Clark, you love a challenge."

"I love academic challenges," I corrected. "Not ‘who can launch themselves off a mountain the fastest’ challenges."

Ethan smirked. "What’s the matter, Clark? Afraid you’ll trip and fall into a ravine?"

"Yes, actually! That is a very valid fear!"

"Too bad," Ethan said, rolling his shoulders like he had already won. "Try not to cry when I beat you."

"Try not to cry when you twist your ankle and roll into a bush," I shot back. Suddenly, I was surprised by the words I could say just to justify my lack of good athletic skills.

He grinned. "Oh, Clark. You wish."

Before I could argue further, Mr. Dax raised his hand. "On my mark—"

I swallowed.

"Get set—"

I tightened my grip on my backpack straps.

"GO!"

The group exploded forward.

The moment I started running, I instantly regretted it.

The ground was uneven. Loose rocks slid under my feet, tree branches appeared out of nowhere to slap me in the face, and my lungs? Not having a great time.

I didn’t know how everyone else was thriving in this.

Joy was laughing like she was having the time of her life, Ethan was practically gliding down the path like he was in a dramatic slow-motion movie scene, and Shun—Shun of all people—was just casually jogging like she did this for fun.

Well, she was a curvy cheerleader, so maybe she did.

Meanwhile, I was dying.

"Why did I agree to this?!" I wheezed.

"You didn’t," Joy called over her shoulder. "We just dragged you into it."

"That makes it worse!"

Halfway down, the group started splitting up. Some people took shortcuts, leaping over roots and sliding down slopes. I, not wanting to break my neck, stuck to the safest path, even if it meant I was slower.

Well, slower was an understatement. By the time I reached the last stretch of the descent, Ethan was already at the bottom, standing with his arms crossed and looking smug.

Of course, he had won.

Joy and Shun made it a few seconds later, barely winded. Max and a few others tumbled in right after, laughing and panting.

And then there was me.

I stumbled into the clearing like I had just survived a war. My hair was a mess, and I had twigs stuck to places twigs should never be stuck to.

"Clark," Joy said, staring at me. "You look like you fought a bear on the way down."

"I feel like I fought a bear on the way down," I wheezed, hands on my knees.

Ethan smirked. "And lost."

I groaned, dropping to the ground, arms spread out. "I hate this club. I hate this school. I hate all of you."

Joy patted my head. "We know, bud."

Mr. Dax finally caught up, looking exhausted but proud of himself. "Now that’s what I call teamwork!"

I turned my head to glare at him. "Sir, what part of this was teamwork?"

He completely ignored me. "Alright! Time for a break before we head to our next stop."

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe, when I heard a voice next to me.

"You noticed, didn’t you?"

I cracked one eye open. Ethan was standing nearby, looking down at me with an unreadable expression.

I sat up. "Noticed what?"

He tilted his head. "Don’t play dumb, Clark. You saw."

My stomach twisted—not just from his words, but from that tone. That low, calculated tone demons use when they think they’re in control. The tone that used to seep through the walls at night, twisting into nightmares. The voice of my stepfather. The reason I hated them.

He knew I had seen the phone call.

I thought about lying. But then I remembered who I was dealing with.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I saw."

For a moment, Ethan didn’t say anything. His usual smirk was gone, and in its place—nothing. Just blankness. Like a door shutting in my face.

Then he turned, shoving his hands into his pockets. His shoulders were stiff, the muscles in his jaw tight. Not irritation. Not annoyance. Something else.

Fear.

"Forget about it," he said.

I frowned. "Ethan—"

But before I could say anything else, he walked off, disappearing into the rest of the group like nothing had happened.

I sat there, staring after him.

Something was wrong. I could feel it like a cold hand pressing against my ribs, like the weight of a storm before it breaks.

And I had no idea what to do about it.