Jamie
Okay, it's official.
Something is fucking wrong with me.
And I don't mean the usual college-is-killing-me kind of wrong.
It's deeper. Like a low vibration in my bones, I can't shut off. Every sound feels too loud. Every light is too bright. Every moment awake is driving me crazy, and I am so hungry. I need to eat, but I also can't keep anything down because of how it tastes.
And ever since that run-in with Adrian, I've been confused and angry for no reason. Snapping at people. Slamming doors. I almost threw my phone at the wall this morning because Spotify wouldn't load.
So yeah, I'm totally fine.
"Dude," Matt says, leaning against the doorframe of my dorm room. "You've been glaring at your laptop for fifteen minutes."
"Has it been fifteen?" I mutter. "Feels like two seconds."
He raises a brow. "You good?"
"I'm peachy."
"Peachy people don't look like they're about to murder me in cold blood."
I slam my laptop shut and groan. "I just… I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't sit still. I feel like I'm going to crawl out of my own skin."
Matt grins. "That sounds like a clear case of you need a drink."
"I don't.."
"Shut up. You're coming out. You've been acting weird since that camping trip, man. You need to reset. Get out of your head."
He's not wrong. Maybe a night out will be good for me and whatever is going on inside me. And besides, sitting here stewing in my own frustration isn't helping..
"Fine," I sigh. "One drink."
"Make it two. You're paying."
The bar's one of those low-ceiling, neon-lit places just off campus. Sticky floors, loud music, too many bodies in not enough space. This is not the kind of scene for me. The air smells like sweat and beer and something sweet that I can't name, and somehow, that something makes my stomach twist. Matt and I grab a table near the back, half-shaded by a light that keeps flickering. He orders tequila shots because, of course. The asshole plans to get me drunk.
"To terrible decisions," he says, sliding one toward me.
I raise an eyebrow. "You mean your entire personality?"
He grins. "Drink, grumpy."
The liquor burns on the way down, but for a moment, it helps. The noise, the crowd, the pulse of the music, it all blurs together, almost enough to drown out the tension clawing under my skin.
Almost.
"Okay," Matt says, pointing at me. "Talk. You've been off. You've been zoning out, skipping classes, and you nearly bit my head off when I asked if you wanted lunch."
"I told you, I'm fine."
"Bullshit."
I glare at him, but he doesn't back down.
"What happened out there?" he asks. "The woods. You came back different."
My throat tightens.
Images flash in my mind.
The dark, the cold, that bite. I remember the pain that came with the bite. How it felt against my skin. I might not remember what bit me, but I remember the bite. I look at my best friend, and there's no way I can tell him what happened. he will think I am crazy. How do you tell your best friend that a creature bit you and it magically healed overnight? It doesn't even make sense to me.
I force a laugh. "I told you. I think I fell. Cut myself and decided to go back to school."
Matt leans, studying me. "You've had some seriously bad vibes all week. You know you can talk to me, right?"
I open my mouth to fire back, but then something shifts.
Across the bar, someone laughs. Low, familiar. My head snaps up before I can stop myself.
Adrian Vega.
Coincidentally, in the same place as me again.
He's at the far end of the bar with a few guys, dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt that fits way too well. He's half turned, talking to someone, but even from here I can feel it, that pull, that magnetic wrongness that makes my pulse skip.
Matt follows my gaze, squinting toward the far end of the bar. Then he lets out a low whistle. "Why is Adrian staring at you like he's trying to solve a math problem he's never seen before?"
My stomach twists. "He's not."
"He is," Matt insists, tone teasing but eyes sharp. "And not in the friendly way. More like… intense. Weirdly intense."
I risk another glance. And there it is again.
Adrian's gaze, locked on me through the haze of bodies and neon light. Unblinking. Heavy. It's not casual curiosity. It's deliberate, magnetic. I should look away. I need to look away.
But I don't.
Something in me stirs, a pull, deep and primal. My heartbeat stutters, my breath shortens. The air between us feels charged, like the moment before a storm breaks.
"Jamie?" Matt's voice sounds distant, muffled, like I'm underwater. "You okay?"
I drag in a shaky breath, trying to answer, but words feel too heavy. My skin burns, the collar of my shirt sticking to the back of my neck. I can hear my pulse in my ears, fast and loud.
"I... yeah. I'm fine."
"Man, you look like you just ran a marathon." Matt's grin returns, softer this time. "If Vega's gonna stare, he could at least buy you a drink."
I try to laugh, but it comes out wrong, breathy, forced. Because it's not just the staring.
It's the feeling.
Like my body's remembering something I shouldn't know. The warmth of his gaze, the faint tremor in my hands, the way my heartbeat syncs with something I can't name.
I stand abruptly, muttering, "I need air."
Outside, the cool night hits like a slap. I grip the railing, trying to steady myself. The sound of the city fades until all I can hear is breathing. Mine, ragged and uneven and beneath it, another. Low. Steady. Close.
I glance over my shoulder.
Through the bar window, Adrian's still there. Still watching.
And when our eyes meet again through glass, through distance, through every reason it shouldn't matter, that same pull tugs hard at something deep inside me.
It isn't fear this time. It's want. Hot. Confusing. Dangerous.
And no matter how hard I try, I can't make it stop.