"You're endangering yourself, Clara. That Fred guy, there's something off about him," Àjè said, her voice taut with concern. "I'm saying this for your own safety. You ought not to invite him to the Ocean, let alone… confess anything." Her eyes narrowed as she studied her sister's face, looking for cracks in her resolve. "You're not thinking clearly."
They sat in Clara's room, the late-evening light slipped through the window in honeyed streaks. Clara sat on the edge of her bed, hands clasped in her lap, her posture rigid with conviction.
"I know it's early. Too early," Clara murmured, her voice soft but steady. "But I've never felt this way before, Àjè. Not once in my life. Something about him… it keeps pulling me back. I just want to confirm, maybe he is the monster you say he is. And if that's true, then isn't it better that we find out before anyone else gets hurt?" She paused, lifting her gaze. "At least this way, we might save lives at Greenlight."
Àjè tilted her head, her lips curled into a disbelieving grin. "That doesn't sound like you, Clara. Since when did you start sounding like a girl who's lost her mind over a boy?" She leaned forward. "How did this guy manage to shake you so badly that you can't even see the danger slithering in his shadow?"
Clara said nothing. Her silence was louder than any defense. Behind her stillness was something immovable - determination, doubt and longing to reveal the main truth.
She was going to the Ocean. And Fred was coming too.
Not just to reveal the truth.
But to open the veil between suspicion and emotion, between the self Àjè knew, and the one Clara was feeling. She needed the truth at all cost.
* * * *
The next morning, Fred walked into class again. Everywhere was silent, cold and reticent. His footsteps barely echoed as he took his seat. Across the room, Hough was already watching him, smirking. That evil grin spread slowly across his face, as though he were seeing something he loved. But it's clear enough it's a promise of unfinished business.
Fred didn't flinch. Whatever Hough had planned, he was ready.
Mr. Ethan entered the room, and a hush fell across the class. His presence had always been sharp, magnetic in a quiet way. The lesson that followed was so absorbing, time blurred; hours passed like minutes, then the sun crawled unnoticed across the windows.
Just as the class prepared to dismiss, Ethan's gaze fell on Fred. His eyes narrowed, squinting as if brushing dust off a memory.
"Fred," he said, his voice carrying just enough weight to freeze the air. "I told you to come see me a few days ago, didn't I?"
Fred stiffened. His heart misfired. Damn.
"I'm sorry, sir. It completely slipped my mind."
"What are you doing now?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Then come with me. Now."
Fred rose, heart galloping, and he followed the instructor out of the room. They moved through the crowd of students, bending, finding their way.
From the third floor of the Music Block, Clara leaned over the railing. She caught his eye. Her hand lifted in a wave, then a subtle signal. Tomorrow, the Ocean.
Fred nodded, barely.
They reached Ethan's office, a quiet, ordered space fragrant with potted jasmine and fresh wood polish. Ornamental plants stood at the the windowsill, swaying faintly with the breeze. The light that filtered in was soft, almost golden, as if even the sun bowed to Ethan's meticulous taste.
The instructor sank into his oscillating chair, rocking gently, his glasses flashing as he adjusted them with one finger. He stared at Fred for a long moment.
"So I heard…" he began, reaching for a document on his desk. He opened it but didn't look down right away. "I heard you know Clara."
Fred's heart almost tore through his chest. Clara? Why is he asking about Clara? Panic whispered behind his thoughts. Has someone seen us together? Did I break some unspoken rule?
"I'm sorry, sir," Fred said, carefully. "I… I don't know anyone named Clara. Not in our department, at least."
Ethan didn't blink but nodded affirming Fred's reply. "Of course not. No one by that name in your department. But I'm asking if you've met anyone by that name, anywhere in Greenlight."
Fred felt the trap tightening. He couldn't lie anymore.
"Yes, sir. I met a lady named Clara… on my first day here. She's in the Music Department."
Ethan's fingers stilled on the document. His expression didn't shift much, but something about the air changed. The way Ethan was nodding made Fred uncomfortable, he knew something wasn't sitting right.
"That's surprising," Ethan said at last. "You must be very lucky, Fred. Very few men can catch those girls' attention. They're…" His voice dipped, laden with suggestion. "…difficult to reach."
Fred said nothing. The words left a strange aftertaste. Those girls? Difficult to reach? Was he referring to Clara and Àjè as if they were prey?
"As men," Ethan continued, leaning forward slightly, "you'll understand. I've been… drawn to Clara myself. But it's not easy. A coach making advances toward a student… risky business, right?" He gave a short laugh. "But you, you have a connection already. Maybe you could talk to her for me. Put in a word?"
Fred's mind was still trying to keep up.
The request was absurd. Yet Ethan was entirely serious.
"If you help me," Ethan added, "I promise you'll have no trouble passing my courses."
Fred's insides turned to ice. So that was it. Like a trade, favour? A bribe more appropriately.
He finally understood why Hough called him lucky. Even instructors are after Clara now? - he thought. It was ridiculous, and yet believable. Clara's beauty was undeniable. Her eyes alone could hush a room. She was the definition of elegance. She had presence, honestly saying.
"I'll… think about it," Fred said carefully.
As he turned to leave, Ethan's voice came again, soft but heavy.
"Remember, Fred, this conversation never happened. The fourth ear must never hear of it."
Fourth ear indeed, one ear borrowed from him, one from Clara and one from Ethan himself. It's understandable.
Fred nodded once, mutely, then stepped out into the hallway. The air outside felt thinner, as though something had been stolen from it.
He hadn't come to Greenlight to become a pawn in other people's games.
And now he was being recruited, quietly, strategically, into something he didn't want.
Everything was just unclear and not desiring at all.
And tomorrow… the Ocean.