Hi Guys!

Welcome to the latest and first fanfic for The Dragon Prince. I fell in love with this Netflix show from the first day and have been obsessing about it ever since. I decided to start a modern AU based on it because why not? I'm a Rayllum shipper and they are my OTP (After Hiccstrid of course) Here it is! I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 1

"Did you check both sides of the road, Rayla?"

"Check for what? The cars on these roads are like a thousand feet apart from each other."

"What does that have to do with our driving lesson?"

"I'm just curious. It's like ninety per-cent of the population of this town vanished or something."

"Your uncle Runaan is the sheriff, and he hasn't gotten any missing cases in over a year."

Rayla flipped the lever behind the steering wheel, signalling the indicator to make a right turn into the highway. Getting a driver's licence was the only exciting part of being a teenager for sixteen-year-old Rayla Moonstone. It'd been over six months of training, and after the successful completion of both her theory and practical tests, she'd finally been able to secure a provisional license. She'd been elated by the new milestone marked on her journey to being an adult, but her joy had been cut short at the news of their relocation to join her Uncle Ethari's husband Runaan in Calais.

Portland had been Rayla's home for so many years. It'd been over six years since her parents had joined the army, leaving her behind in the care of Ethari, the younger brother to her mother. Ethari and Runaan had been married for five years but lived apart due to their distinct occupations. Rayla grew up with her uncle Ethari in Portland, the largest city in Maine, and her parents would often return to see her twice every year before their redeployment. Sometimes, she didn't want them to return, because it became even harder each time she had to watch them leave with the pain of knowing that their present meeting could be the last.

Her uncle Ethari was the only reason why she could bear the pain of the absence of her parents, and why she never felt like she lacked anything. He'd been more than a guardian to her and more of a father. Raising a child that wasn't his and working full-time as a mechanical engineer seemed like a burden, but he'd handled both perfectly and excelled at being present in Rayla's life. He'd celebrated all her birthdays with her, attended her graduations, race championships and cleared her depressing thoughts of being abandoned by her parents. She didn't have friends, but never felt alone. Her uncle was her supporter and best friend and life had been perfect in Portland when it was just the two of them.

Things went downhill when Ethari lost his job. After being rejected by numerous interviews and companies, it became even harder to manage the expenses and care for Rayla. He'd then decided to move to Calais, a small town on the Washington bounty, along the border in Maine where Runaan lived. There was so much she had to leave behind, all including the track team of her high school for which she'd won many trophies and championships. She missed the brick-walled buildings, lakes, the busy streets, tourists and residents in the summer. It might not have been a lot, but it was home and it held a lot of memories to her.

"So is there a reason why people avoid this part of the world?"

"Keep your eyes on the road, Rayla." He reached out to adjust her rear mirror.

"I even heard it's a retirement town for seniors."

"Well I did retire, didn't I?"

"What? No, you didn't. You just lost your...sorry."

Calais was a lot different from Portland. It was a lot smaller and sparsely populated. The tall trees, green landscapes and countryside feel did not fit into her ideal description of the environment she wanted for herself. Although she did appreciate the beauty of nature and all that Calais had to offer, it didn't feel like home, at least not yet.

"Did we really have to move?"

"We've had this discussion a thousand times already."

"I know, and believe me, I understand. It's just…"

"Just what?"

"It's a big change, and I wasn't prepared for it."

"Are you scared?"

"Me? Scared? I'm not scared of anything."

"Yeah, right." Ethari snorted, closely watching her trembling fingers on the steering wheel, a habit that gave up her true emotions instantly. He was right, she was terrified. Moving to Calais made her realize that her uncle wouldn't always be with her. He was with his partner now, and Runaan's presence took most of his time and attention. It'd be very selfish of her to make it an issue since he'd already dedicated years of his life to raising her. She was happy for Ethari. Happy...but also scared.

"This doesn't prove anything!" She became defensive, trying to hide her fingers behind the steering wheel. "I am not scared."

"What exactly is there to be scared about? You're going to be on the track team at Calais high, you'd also get a permanent licence here, nothing is going to change."

"The track team...Calais high...are you sure I'll fit in?"

"What?" He seemed so startled at her words. "Fitting in hasn't been something you ever cared about, Rayla. Why is that suddenly important to you?"

"This is high school, Ethari. I don't know, maybe it's because I'm expecting a little too much from it? I want things to be different this time."

"Look at you! Finally acting like an actual living being with emotions."

"Do you think this is normal?"

"Rayla, it's okay to want to make friends and to feel accepted by the people around you. It doesn't make you weak or vulnerable in any way."

"Yeah, but in this town? Ethari, I couldn't fit into a larger population with more options of different people I could've related with, what makes you think that this would be any better?"

"People you could have related with...but chose not to." He replied. "You weren't even bullied. You were the top athlete, and most girls in your school wanted to be you."

"Well...it turns out I wasn't just admired by them, but they were also intimated by me. No one approached me to make friends with me, I was just avoided by my schoolmates."

"Did you approach anyone? Did you ever make an effort to make friends with them?"

She quickly tucked the strands of her platinum blonde hair in her face behind her ears. "I didn't need them...I didn't need anyone."

Lying to herself was her only defence mechanism towards her biggest fear. She hated that fear, she hated the fact that she was terrified of being lonely and being left behind by the rest of the world...just like her parents did. She knew she had Ethari, and Runaan's presence wasn't going to change that, but her uncle had his life to live, and she had hers. As much as the thought of losing him frightened her to death, she knew the truth, but always tried to escape from it. Ethari wasn't going to be around forever and she just couldn't bring herself to accept it.

"You want to know what I think? I think you are afraid of people. You just believe that by keeping others at a distance you avoid a betrayal of your trust."

"Whoa, where did all that come from?"

"It's either that or…"

"Can we just focus on our driving lesson? I don't want to have this conversation!" Her tone was that of irritation, and it startled him. She didn't mean to sound harsh, but she knew he understood that. She kept her eyes fixed on the road, ignoring his gaze. She knew he deserved an apology and she owed him one. Her reaction was because she wasn't ready to face the truth and he also knew it.

"Check your side mirror, there's a car right behind you and he wants to overtake you."

"Or I can just speed up, can't I?"

"Just let him pass through, Rayla. You need to take it slow, you're still learning." Switching lanes, she finally let the impatient driver speed off past her, rolling her eyes. She noticed the change in Ethari's expression and the look of disappointment on his face.

"I'm sorry."

"You said you understood, right? Why we need to be here."

"I do. I completely understand, Ethari. I'm really sorry."

"You need to open your heart and mind, Rayla. You need to learn to let people in."

She'd heard those words so many times before and all from the same person, but it never changed her view towards life and the world around her. Ethari still never gave up on her. He'd already lived years of his life trying to prove to her that she could be accepted and loved genuinely and that her parent's decisions were not aimed at hurting her. She just couldn't believe how it was so easy to walk away from someone you love.

She missed them, and it hurt her so much because it seemed like they didn't feel the same way she did, it seemed like they'd gotten so used to the distance that tore their family apart.

"The more you let people into your life, the more chances you give them to walk right out."

"I get it. You built a wall because you hate dealing with betrayal." Ethari teased, giving her a reassuring smile. "And that's okay...I'm not judging."

Rayla smirked, "You wouldn't if you could."

"Walls have doors too, Rayla, so put a door on yours."

"You got in without a door, Uncle Ethari. You're the only one I can trust."

"I won't be here forever. You know that, right?"

"Yeah...I do." She took quick glances at him to make him see her glistened eyes. "And that's exactly what scares me the most."

He rested an arm on her shoulder, like a father completely worried about his daughter. "Rayla, not everyone is in your life to hurt you…and not everyone who comes in would choose to walk away."

"And that's the problem, Ethari." She replied, "At the end of the day...the decision of them leaving or staying is still not up to me...even though I'd be the one getting hurt."

"Cheers to your success and the bright future of Calais."

"Thanks, Viren, but this was our hard work. I couldn't have done it without you." William Harrow, the mayor of Calais raised his glass in a toast towards his councilman and longtime friend, Viren Rowan.

"Of course. Looking forward to working with you again...just like old times."

Callum rolled his eyes, watching them with deep contempt. A family dinner between the Harrows and Rowans was something he should've already been used to, but even after several dinners throughout the friendship between both families, the strength of their relationship still baffled him. It wasn't even thanksgiving yet! But he had to spend hours at the table, listening to two men absorb themselves in their privilege while celebrating the victory of a position they hadn't just won once, twice, but thrice in a row.

When exactly does it get less exciting?

"Callum? Could you please pass the ketchup bottle?"

Claudia Rowan.

Sixteen years of his life was a lot of time to meet a lot of girls and get over his obsession with this girl, but none of them could ever compare. Her dark hair, thick eyebrows, grass-green eyes, rosy cheeks, thin lips, amazing smile, golden heart and beautiful soul. He'd made over a hundred sketches of her so much that he could map out her facial features with his eyes closed, but every single glance made him realize something new.

"Uhm...yeah, the...the ketchup?"

She noticed she held the brightest smile on her face once he caught her gaze, her index fingers of both hands placed at the corners of her lips

"Smile."

Of course, the ketchup was right beside her, and she was just being Claudia. It was funny because it seemed like she was tired of coming up with ways to make him smile, and decided to be direct this time.

"Are you okay, Callum?" She whispered, moving her gaze between him and their parents, giggling softly afterwards. "You can just pretend they aren't there."

"You make it seem easy." An unconscious smile appeared on his lips and she pointed it out, a little too hyped up as usual.

"There...you're smiling. See? Wasn't too hard, was it?"

"Can you two keep it off the table? This dinner is enough torture for me."

"Soren, just...stop." She passed him the bowl of ground turkey. "Here, eat. You wouldn't be such a bother if you focus on the food."

"Please, you'd think dinner at the mayor's house would involve a royal buffet or something. By the way, is this from Yancy's restaurant? Grosse."

Soren Rowan.

It had always been strange to Callum how easy it was to fall for Claudia, but also easy to keep the members of her family at the top of his hit list. Soren was her older brother and an all-star player and athlete of Calais high in his senior year. His dirty blond hair, bright blue eyes made him hold a strong resemblance to the young lady in the picture Claudia had shown him, back when she talked about her mother. Although he was a lot older than Callum, the maturity gap made it almost hard to believe.

Even though they'd basically grown up with each other, they still never got along, and Callum's childhood memories of Soren were that of consistent bullying and teasing. It was mostly from the fact that Soren never seemed to take anything seriously and would often blurt out words with insensitivity. While he usually overlooked those words, a lot of them still got to him, building up his insecurities as an adopted child.

Some of those words had made him ask questions about his identity, about his new family and most of all, about his birth father. Soren was aware of how sensitive Callum was but chose to use that as a blind spot as a way to keep getting to him. Claudia was the only rainbow in the clouded relationship with the Rowans, as she had a much better personality and aura. She often stood up for him to her brother, despite being the younger sibling. She also stood up for him to everyone else, and although she only saw him as a little brother, it still didn't stop or hold back his pathetic and longtime crush on her.

"Dad handled the catering, Soren."

"Oh." Callum almost snorted when her brother was suddenly dumbfounded. "Okay. Now that I think about it, the lemon chicken pasta was pretty good."

Claudia snorted. "That's the worst part of this dinner, but keep trying."

"Claudia, can I have more of your jelly tarts? They're really good."

"Of course, Ezran. I always have just you in mind whenever I bake them." She placed a few more pieces of jelly tarts into the little boy's plate, rolling her eyes at Soren. "It feels great to know that at least someone appreciates my cooking."

"He's just a kid, give him a few more years, besides, I have always loved your jelly tarts."

"They're all for Ezran, so don't even dare."

Ezran Harrow was Callum's little brother, and although they both shared just one parent, their bond had always been unbreakable. Callum remembered when his mother had told him about Ezran's arrival back when he was just six years old. They'd recently just moved to Calais after her marriage to William, his step-father. A lot of changes had happened at that time, but he'd been too young to comprehend them. All he'd cared about was getting a playmate mate, a friend, and a brother.

Ezran had been all of that, and more of an older brother than a younger. He was the smart one, the mature and the rational thinker, even at the age of ten. It was funny how a little boy could earn the respect that the adults in his life had failed to do, and even in the absence of their mother, Ezran's presence kept the loneliness away.

"Alright young man, I think you've had enough, you're gonna get sick again." Callum took the plate of jelly tarts away from him.

"Come on, Callum, let him have them. It doesn't seem like he's interested in anything else." Claudia quickly jumped to his defence, reaching out to retrieve the plate for Ezran.

"You spoil him too much, you know that?"

"Yup." She retrieved it and handed it back to Ezran, holding up a sheepish smile. "Just like you were when you were ten."

She'd known him for about six years now ever since she and her family moved to Calais. Their first encounter had been when she'd told him off for having too many chocolates at her twelfth birthday party. He remembered sulking about it and then reporting her to his mother. It was so embarrassing just thinking about it. He sometimes wondered if she still saw him as that spoilt little boy he was six years ago. He locked his gaze on hers, zoning out for the millionth time.

Were her eyes just green? Or were they hazel?

"Ouch!" He yelped in pain when Soren stepped on his foot hard from underneath the table. He shot an instant glare at him and noticed the usual 'Get away from my sister!' expression plainly written on his face. Soren was fully aware of Callum's obsession with Claudia and had often blackmailed him with it a lot for the longest time. He was also the last person Soren wanted for his sister, and Callum was sure the same situation applied to her dad as well.

"It's like having a crush on your older sister." He imagined his step-father or even Claudia telling him if he ever dared to speak up about it. Yeah, she was just a year older, but so what? The least he could do was hopelessly dream that she would one day, realise how he truly felt about her because he wasn't getting over it anytime soon.

And people thought the friendzone was the worse it could get.

"When will you stop bullying Callum, Soren? Don't you think it's time to grow up?"

"Callum knows when." He mumbled nonchalantly. "He also knows what to do to stop it."

What the hell was Soren's problem? He was a guy too, right? He knew this wasn't something he could just get out of easily, especially when their families were close and she lived just across from him. As long as she remained a part of his life and never changed, he was going to keep hoping fruitlessly for a chance to ask her out.

"Ezran, are you just going to have jelly tarts? There's a lot of food here, why don't you try them?" William Harrow noticed his son focused on the pastries on his plate with a look of worry on his face.

Wow. It took you that long to notice.

Their mother would have noticed Ezran's unhealthy habit a long time beforehand, and she would have done better than making the topic of a joint family dinner all about him and his achievement. William and Viren were like two peas in a pod but brought out the worst in each other. He'd never seen people so obsessed with power like they were, and couldn't understand how his stepfather couldn't see beyond the veil of Viren's fake friendship. Callum had chosen not to care anymore and also couldn't complain as his friendship with Claudia was the only positive result of that.

"Claudia said I could have them, Dad."

"And that's fine, but is that all you're gonna have today?"

Ezran nodded, still focused on his meal. "I'm fine, Dad. I love Jelly tarts."

"You don't say."

"Next time, please be in charge of catering," Soren whispered to Claudia. She smirked and pulled on his earlobe.

"Dad is perfect. He does it better. Claudia sucks at cooking."

"Alright, I'm sorry...you win. Okay?"

"Callum?"

No. Oh, Gods no.

"Yes, Sir?"

"We uh...we're going to the mall today. Ezran needs to get a few supplies for school, right?"

"Yeah...he does," Callum replied in a low tone. "I uhm...I do too."

"Yeah, of course, I didn't mean to..."

Exclude me? Oh, that's fine. It definitely hasn't been a new habit of yours since mum died.

"It's okay, Mr Harrow."

"Mr Harrow?" It wasn't the first time Callum had called him that since his mother's death, but somehow he'd chosen to make it an issue this time. "I thought we had...uh...never mind."

The room was silent, everyone's attention was fixed on both step-father and step-son. Callum had never felt more awkward and embarrassed in his whole life, and Claudia was right there in front of him! Could this day get any worse?!

"I'll also get you a new sketch pad. It's been a while since I..."

"You don't have to, I don't need a new sketch pad."

William Harrow hesitated for a while in silence, as Callum's words had hurt him. Callum bit his lower lip in instant regret, fully aware that he was wrong. He had a lot of issues with his mother's second husband, probably almost as much as he had with her first one. His mother's death was so sudden and he had a lot of questions, most of which William Harrow had answers to, but chose to keep away from him.

"It doesn't matter if you need one or not..." Callum could see the pain in his voice. He wished he could take back his words. He was rude, disrespectful and shouldn't have let his anger get the best of him, especially in front of Ezran. He didn't want his brother to know about his hidden anger towards his father, but he'd been terrible at hiding it from him.

"...we are going to the mall, and I'm getting you a new sketch pad...alright?"

"Alright."

"Good."

Callum caught Claudia's gaze again, and it held the usual look of pity that he hated getting from people. He hated the fact that she knew him a lot more than he wanted her to. She knew his pain, his constant struggle with his mother's death, and his anxiety and depression issues. She'd tried to be his strong voice of reason but he didn't want her to. Maybe the reason why she'd always seen him as a little brother was that she'd always had to be a big sister to him. He bit his lower lip so hard as his eyes fell onto his meal.

Why the hell did he decide to bring that up at this time? and in front of all these people?

He shivered when he felt the warmth of Claudia's hands above his. She was watching him so closely that it was starting to feel uncomfortable. How does she go worrying about him like that? He just had an almost fight with his stepdad, no big deal! She didn't have to be that concerned about it, he was that little kid anymore, he also wasn't her responsibility, he was doing fine!

"Are you okay?"

He wasn't. He hadn't been for the past two years since the incident that took his mother's life. A lot had changed, including his relationship with his stepfather. Callum had also changed, and he knew it was the main reason for Claudia's concern. All he yearned for right now was an escape, from the anger, self-blame and endless pity. It was the reason why he hated being around people, all including his stepfather, and sometimes...Claudia.

He didn't understand why she kept asking that question while expecting the same answer from him every single time. Callum always just gave her the answer she wanted, and the answer she deserved. She didn't need to know what was going on beneath the surface, it wasn't her burden to bear. He just needed to tell a white lie, and she'd stop asking.

Simple.

"Of course, Claudia. I'm alright, I mean...why wouldn't I be?"

"Why can't I have the car, Ethari? How am I going to get home?"

"You get to use the bus, just like every other kid who didn't get spoiled by their uncles."

"The bus? I could count the number of buses and stops I've seen in this town so far." Rayla threw her dark leather jacket over the forest green hoodie she wore beneath, pulling the tip of her platinum blond hair gently and spreading it across her shoulders.

"Look there's one right there." He pointed towards the bus stop across the street just at the entrance of Calais High. "It'll take you straight home so you don't have to worry."

"Doesn't it arrive like once every two hours? That's ridiculous."

"Move it, Rayla. You're gonna be late!"

"Let's move to Calais, you said. Runaan would let you drive his truck, you said."

There had been a lot of promises. Most of them used as bait to make moving seem less depressing to her. She hadn't been the idealistic type, but chose optimism, hoping that Calais would somehow be different. She hated the bus. She'd always hated the bus, where she had to deal with people and the anxiety that came from their presence. Owning her car would create the distance, where she didn't have to worry about handling conversations, starting relationships, and being at the losing end.

Ethari and Runaan didn't understand that, she'd been so good at hiding her anxiety from him. Or did he know? but chose to keep torturing her this way?

"How was I supposed to know that he wouldn't find you responsible enough to let you handle it?" Ethari smirked, "You know, with you crashing into a fire hydrant yesterday?"

Rayla rolled her eyes. "That was just one mistake, one mistake!"

"Yeah, at your very first attempt, huh?"

"Ugh, whatever!" She threw her backpack over her shoulder, pulling up her hood over her head. "Hope this makes you both feel better."

"Oh, it sure would." He took her hood down again. "Are we starting the first day like this?"

"Ethari!"

"Why are you so obsessed with hiding yourself in that? You said you wanted this year to be different, right?"

"Exactly, different by driving myself to school and back this time, but thanks to you and Runaan, I'm gonna spend thirty minutes of every day on the bus hating myself."

"Goodbye, Rayla! Make sure you're home before your curfew. You're not eighteen yet."

Great. Nothing like an adult stating out how much it sucks to be a minor.

"I'll be seventeen in a few weeks." Rayla stepped out of the car, throwing her backpack on her shoulders and setting her hood back in place. "You've got just a year left to enjoy that."

"You're annoying, you know that?"

"I know."

"I love you."

Rayla smiled and closed the door. "I love you too, Ethari."

He waved with that God-forsaken smirk that she hated so much. Yup, she was assertive that he knew just how much of torture this was to her, and was enjoying every single moment of it. Her mother had told her how much of a problem child Ethari had been as a teenager, making it difficult to take him seriously during his pep talks. It was quite unbelievable considering how responsible he turned out to be as an adult. He'd claimed that his reason for his rebellious behaviour was to get the attention of his busy wealthy parents, feeling like they'd never spared him any of their time and attention.

She'd gotten all the justification she'd needed from that excuse as her parents had intentionally chosen to be absent from her life, not just emotionally, but also physically. She wasn't a problem child either, she was just...misunderstood.

She followed a group of students towards the main entrance, with her left hand buried in the pocket of her leather jacket and eyes focused on the piece of paper that held her class schedule.

Two science classes, Precalculus, English, French, History and...seven thousand mandatory minutes of PE for the school year? Now we are talking! The track team was her main point of interest, and she was ready to fill up a 'resume' with her previous championship medals and trophies to get in as fast as possible without even having to try out for it.

Her life had always been so simple. She loved running. For most people, running was just a sport, a mode of exercise, and a workout. Running to Rayla was more than that, it was living, it was feeling the power to leave anytime she needed to, to escape the confines of walls and feel the open road. Running taught her a lot about life, that every little thing is broken down into one step at a time. That's as easy and as hard as every task is.

'If you look ahead at how far the run is, maybe you'll never begin.'

Her mother would always tell her when she was younger. Her mother was an athlete too and was the biggest inspiration to her passion. Rayla had always been more proud of being an athlete than doing well in English, Maths or Science. Those subjects never gave her a shield for emotional self-protection. It was her way to feel the power in a life where she had none. Happiness, joy, pain, whatever emotions she felt, she would convert them into miles and run.

Calais high was a lot smaller than her previous school, less populated like she'd predicted, but also shared a lot of similarities. The school hallway was all bright paints and neatly trimmed pinboards filled up with welcome notes for the first day of the new school year. Once a bustle of chatter and flowing of friends in groups walking in and out of their classrooms. She pulled the straps of her hood, closing it tightly around her face as she heard the bell go off for the first period.

She quickly located her locker number and put in the code to open it. She had precalculus class for the first period, a subject that she'd had the worst relationship with, in her freshman year. She heard Sophomore year was a lot tougher, and she'd have to put in a lot more effort. Although she hadn't been a straight-A student or in the top ranks, she'd always taken her education seriously, balancing it with her races to get that scholarship she'd been aiming for.

What did she want to study? She didn't know yet and hadn't figured out a lot about herself or what she wanted for the future. One thing was for sure, she never wanted to follow the footsteps of her parents and subject her kids to the life she'd lived.

She needed directions to avoid being late for her first class, especially as a new transfer student. She didn't want any unnecessary attention drawn towards herself and would rather go unnoticed for the rest of the day.

Now she needed to ask questions, to approach a stranger and talk.

Instant panic.

No way. She wasn't approaching anyone. She didn't need anyone.

She tried walking down the hallways glancing from classroom to classroom in search of anyone that remotely looked like a 'precalculus class', missing out on opportunities she had to ask students who passed by her hurriedly to make it to their classes. It seemed like she didn't even have to put in the effort to be invisible, people walked past her without giving her a single glance, like she wasn't even there. She was going to be late no question, and it was all thanks to her silly decision.

It wasn't about pride, it had never been about pride. It was about fear. The fact that she seemed tough and brave on the outside, but was soft and sensitive on the inside. It was about her extreme social awkwardness and how the opinions of even strangers somehow mattered so much to her.

'Just be yourself, Rayla. Real people would love you for just being yourself.'

That had never worked for her in the past, instead, it made people intimidated and run away...all including her parents.

Where was that darn class?! The bell had gone off about ten minutes ago and she was still left wandering like a confused looser in the hallway. The sooner she gathered the courage to speak up and ask for directions, the lesser of an entrance she would make when she finally arrived at her classroom.

"Uhm...excuse me." She immediately stopped a random student walking past her before giving herself time to think about it. "Could you please direct me to the precalculus classroom? I've got that for my first period and I don't know..."

"Precalculus class?" The boy pushed his headset down to his neck giving her a puzzled look. His dark brown hair was neck-length sweeping across the sides of his face, his eyes were every green hue of the forest in the summertime and he had the longest lashes she'd ever seen on a guy. His feminine features made it obvious that he was probably a male version of his mother, but he was very good looking, a lot more than she was ready to give him credit for.

"You're a Sophomore?"

"Yeah." She nodded, "I just got transferred here and I..."

"That's okay, we're in the same class. Come on, I'll take you there."

"Oh, thank you."

Was it really that simple?!

It was also quite coincidental that the very first person she asked turned out to be in the same year and the same class. She trailed behind him going towards the direction she'd passed a few minutes ago, watching him in silence as he led her ahead. He was dressed in dark cargo pants, a maroon t-shirt, a dark blue denim jacket with a pair of combat boots that matched hers. It seemed like they both had the same edgy, depressing taste in fashion, except for that ridiculous feminine scarf wrapped around his neck. She was no expert, but someone had to tell him that the scarf needs to go.

She almost hissed in frustration when they stopped in front of the very same classroom she'd walked past a few seconds ago, but too preoccupied from the realization that this was a new school, a new year and a new set of people to deal with. She wasn't ready for it, she wasn't ever going to be ready for such a change.

"This is the calculus class." He turned back towards her, opening the door and ushering her in. "After you."

"Thanks." She went in and he followed suit, shutting the door gently after them.

"Good morning, Miss Lujanne."

"Good morning, Callum. Great to see you starting off the school year by being late."

"Sorry Miss Lujanne."

Callum. His name was Callum. Quite an uncommon name, but it wasn't new to her either.

She watched him stroll nonchalantly towards his seat at the back of the classroom, leaving her standing awkwardly at the front of the class.

"Hello? Are you a student in this class?"

"Uh...yes ma'am. I'm a transfer student." She handed her schedule to the teacher who took it glancing at it for a few seconds, before looking up at her with a smile.

"Welcome to Calais high. Did you just move here?"

Obviously.

"Yeah."

"What's your name?"

"Rayla...Rayla Moonstone."

Oh gosh, I hope she doesn't...

"Everyone! This is Rayla! She's a transfer student from Portland, and she would be joining us for this school year."

Fuck.

'Oh please, not again.'

Callum Mccalister gripped at his shirt holding onto the area of his chest where he felt the sharp pain, struggling so hard to keep himself from falling to the ground. He bit his lower lip so hard he could almost taste blood. The pain was back again, and just as intense as the previous times for over a year. It was worse this time because he'd only gone halfway through school for the day and had classes left after recess. He squinted, looking out for the closest restroom. It was pretty close but wasn't one for guys, the restroom for boys was a lot farther from him.

It hurt. It hurt bad, and he felt helpless because no one knew about it, and he couldn't call out for help. It was a huge secret he'd kept to himself for the longest time. He'd managed to excuse himself from the classroom without making his current situation noticeable and needed to get to the restroom before he began coughing. He closed his locker shut in a hurry towards the female restroom before the bell went off for recess and before students piled out of their classrooms.

He got into a stall and shut the door behind him. The coughing began once he dropped to the floor and blood followed. He got terrified at every fresh bloodstain on the towel from his painful cough trying to hold back the tears that stung his eyes. Dizziness, headache, inflammation, so much pain all at once.

Hemoptysis, Acute bronchitis, pneumonia, Bronchiectasis, he'd done months of deep research on them all, but due to his dangerous personal decision to evade the involvement of a doctor, Callum wasn't assertive about the definition of his illness. All he knew was that his weak lungs just loved giving up blood. Lots and lots of it.

Sometimes he had mild attacks, and sometimes he had severe ones where he often passed out afterwards from weakness, hoping to never wake up again. He'd somehow been able to get through it even though his situation became worse as days passed, and he'd also managed to keep it hidden from the people around him. No one was aware that Callum was sick. Not even his step-father, Claudia, or his little brother, Ezran.

He was fully aware of the severity of his condition, and the fact that he needed help, but just wasn't willing to get one. Who was going to care anyway? His mother was all he had and he would have rushed into her arms for comfort the first time he'd found out about it.

But she wasn't there. She wasn't here either.

What was the point of getting help? What was the point of living?

"Hello? Who's in there? Are you okay?"

Shit!

He hadn't been alone all this time?! Crap! He was sure that his coughing wasn't the only reason for her intrusion, but also the fact that it belonged to the voice of a guy in the female restroom. What was he going to do now? The worry in her voice revealed that she was fully aware that he was sick and his secret would be out if he walked out of the stall. He tried ignoring her call to see if she would give up and leave.

"Are you alright? Do you need me to call the nurse?"

She wasn't giving up! Gosh, who was she anyway? And didn't she think that if he needed help, he would have gone to the nurse himself? He just wanted her to leave! Why couldn't she just understand that?!

"Please, talk to me. I can help you. You sound very sick."

That voice. It sounded vaguely familiar. Was she one of his classmates? Or one of Claudia's friends? He wouldn't know who it belonged to anyway as he hadn't kept any female friends. He had to open the door because she still wasn't giving up and it would create more of a scene if more people joined them in the restroom. He was a guy, and shouldn't be there in the first place.

She stopped knocking and stepped back when she noticed he was opening the door finally deciding to reveal himself to her. Callum sucked in his breath, holding onto what was left of his self-control and endurance to bear the pain burning in his chest. He was tired and weak but tried to keep his balance. Hoping he could make her believe that it was a minor cough and there was nothing serious about it.

"Callum?"

It was that girl! The one who'd asked him for directions earlier this morning, the new transfer student from Portland. What was her name again? Rayla? Or was it Raina?

"Raina?"

"Uhm...It's Rayla, but that doesn't matter. Are you alright? You sounded like you were in so much pain. Shouldn't you be at the clinic or something?"

"It's a minor cough, it's nothing." He shrugged, keeping the coolest undazed expression while his lungs felt like they were being ripped to shreds. He noticed her eyes fixed on the towel in his hand and her startled reaction when she noticed the bloodstains on it.

"Is that...blood?"

"I said it's nothing." He immediately pushed the towel into the pockets of his pants. "By the way, I just figured this is the girl's restroom, so I've gotta go."

"Wait, Callum."

For christ sakes, what the hell was this girl's problem?! She should've atleast gotten the memo right now and let him be! He didn't need her ridiculous pity or charity, he was totally fine and didn't need her help!

"Can you please just leave me alone?!"

"It's very obvious that you're in pain, Callum! and you're doing a terrible job at hiding it!"

"And it's even more obvious that I don't need you stating that out for me. It's none of your business. I don't even know you!"

"That's not the point! I know I shouldn't be worried about it, but you need to get help!"

Who exactly was this girl? Who did she think she was anyway? Why did she feel she suddenly had the right to tell him what to do because he'd given her directions earlier? Gosh, this was exactly why he hated people. You give them the slightest chance and they begin to make decisions for you. He studied her for a bit, now that her hood was down and he could see her face clearly.

Her shoulder-length hair was somewhere between silver and platinum blonde, he wasn't sure, but it looked quite...different, maybe unique. She had contacts on, with the colour...purple? Where did she say she was from again? Portland? Because she looked like she came straight out of a manga or something. She seemed pale and had the build of an athlete, the kind of girl most quarterbacks would totally simp for.

She was beautiful, but his lungs were too occupied to care. He needed to get out of here and make it very clear to her that his illness was his biggest secret and he didn't want her running her mouth telling anyone else about it.

"Listen, Rayla or whatever you're called." He stepped closer holding up a glare despite the fact that she was taller and looked like she could beat him up without even trying.

"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. And I would appreciate it if we both keep it that way."