Chapter 14 - After the Glow
(Lyra's pov:
The sunlight that slipped through my curtains felt softer that morning. The kind of light that makes everything look like it's wrapped in gold. My head was still a little foggy from last night's Halloween party - laughter, music, candy, and the smell of caramel apples still hanging in the air like a sweet ghost.
I blinked awake slowly, the faint shimmer of glitter still on my wrist from the costume makeup. My star necklace rested against my collarbone, the chain cool and comforting against my skin. The small charm - Evan's gift from that first year - caught the sunlight when I turned on my side. I smiled without meaning to.
Halloween at Saint Valley High was always a big deal, but this year? It had felt perfect.
Rina had helped me paint the art club booth with fake cobwebs, Cassian and Aveline had somehow convinced everyone to wear matching angel and devil outfits, and Soraya? She'd brought a smoke machine she "borrowed" from the drama club. The field had been lit up in string lights, pumpkins lined up like sleepy soldiers, and music pulsed from the speakers near the bleachers.
I could still see Evan, dressed as some dark fairytale prince, fake sword and all - smiling that lopsided smile of his. He'd spun me around when "Midnight City" started playing, his laughter loud and real, our fingers sticky from cotton candy and stolen cupcakes.
It was one of those nights that felt like it could last forever.
Now, in the golden quiet of morning, forever felt like a dream I didn't want to wake up from.
"Morning, sweetheart," Mom's voice floated from the kitchen when I padded downstairs, hair in a messy bun, oversized sweatshirt slipping off one shoulder.
She was at the counter, hair pulled into a low twist, sketching something on a blueprint spread across the marble top. Coffee steamed in her mug, cinnamon rolls cooling beside her. The scent made my stomach rumble.
"Rough night?" she asked, glancing up with a teasing smile.
"Not rough," I said, sinking into a chair. "Just...long. Fun."
She nodded, eyes soft. "You look happy, Lyra."
"I am," I said honestly, grabbing a cinnamon roll. "I think...this year feels right."
She hummed, approvingly. "Good. You deserve right."
For a second, her hand brushed mine, a silent echo of everything we didn't say - how far we'd come since Lumera stopped being a place that hurt and started being a home.
Then my phone buzzed. A text from Soraya lit up the screen:
Soraya 🩵: "Clover's. Noon. Bring your sunshine self ☀️"
Saphira: "And your art club discount card. We're raiding the sketchbook section again."
I laughed. "Guess the gang wants brunch."
"Tell them I said hi," Mom said, going back to her plans. "And maybe bring me back a latte?"
"Done deal," I said, kissing her cheek before heading upstairs to get ready.
By the time I reached Clover's Café, the air had that perfect fall crispness - cool but not cold, with leaves crunching under my boots. The café's windows were fogged from the warmth inside, the smell of coffee, vanilla, and cinnamon curling through the air like a welcome.
Aveline was already waving from the booth near the window, her curls tied up with a ribbon that matched her sweater. Cassian was beside her, halfway through a slice of pie, Soraya and Saphira sharing a giant caramel frappé that looked more sugar than caffeine.
Evan was the last to arrive, hair slightly tousled, Saint Valley hoodie on, that easy smile aimed right at me. "Hey, Sol," he said, sliding in beside me, his hand brushing mine under the table.
"Hey yourself," I said, trying not to grin too hard.
They talked about the party for almost an hour - laughing about Cassian accidentally knocking over the candy display, about Soraya trying to start a flash mob (and failing miserably). It felt easy, light, perfect. Like nothing could touch this bubble we'd built around ourselves.
"Okay," Saphira said suddenly, tapping the notebook she always carried. "We've still got list stuff to finish."
"Today?" Aveline groaned. "We just survived Halloween."
Soraya grinned. "Exactly. So we keep the streak going."
"What do you have in mind?" Evan asked, his hand still loosely intertwined with mine.
"Mini golf," she said dramatically, waving the page. "Then movie night at mine. We can check off 'win something ridiculous' and 'have a movie marathon.' Two birds, one glitter cannon."
Cassian nodded. "I'm in. But no horror movies."
"Oh, come on-"
"No horror movies."
Everyone laughed.
The rest of the day blurred into color and laughter.
We hit the mini golf course first - pastel windmills, fake ponds, and a sign that read "Putt Luck." Evan was terrible at it, on purpose, pretending to miss every shot just to make me laugh. Cassian somehow ended up with the ball in the bushes twice, and Soraya took a victory photo every time she got close to winning.
By the end, we'd each won tiny plush keychains. Evan traded his for a small bear charm and clipped it to my bag. "For Nova," he said. "Your bear family needs a new sibling."
"For Nova?" I grinned. "That's actually cute."
"Of course it is. I named it."
Later, at Soraya's house, the world was dim and glowing again - fairy lights, popcorn bowls, blankets, the soft hum of a projector. They chose romantic comedies this time. No screams, no ghosts. Just soft laughter, whispered jokes, and the sound of everyone slowly falling asleep halfway through the second movie.
I ended up leaning against Evan's shoulder, his hoodie warm and familiar. His fingers brushed through my hair absentmindedly, and for a moment, everything in me felt still.
I looked around the room - my friends tangled in blankets and dreams, the glow of the screen flickering on their faces, the world outside quiet and steady.
If someone had told me four years ago that I'd end up here - loved, safe, surrounded - I would've laughed. But here I was.
And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't scared of losing it.
When I finally drifted off, the star pendant caught the light from the TV - a tiny glint of silver, still shining through the dark.
And in that golden haze between dreaming and waking, I thought maybe, just maybe, the best days of senior year were only beginning.