I woke up to the sound of church bells ringing in the distance. I used to practice focusing on the sound, finding a strange peace in their soothing rhythm. Today they sounded like a funeral march. I cracked open an eye, my room blurring into focus, when it hit. That smell. That fucking smell. It was still here.
Did this stalker know about me? Why else would they tail me out of all people? A heavy pit settled in my stomach. If they knew, I was done for. They'd lock me up, study me like a lab rat, or worse. And they'd be right to. That's where freaks like me belonged. I was a threat to everyone around me.
What happened at the quarry was proof of that. I saw it all again, the rocks exploding like fireworks of hellfire. I'd lost control. Leveled the place. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the images away, burying them deep down. Thank God I had been careful. I'd listened for heartbeats, scanned for cameras, made sure no one was around to witness the shitshow. But what about before that? Had I left any other signs of my abnormality in public? I couldn't remember any slip-ups. Still, one thing was for sure, I had to be more vigilant than ever.
The smell of coffee filled my senses as I made my way downstairs. Mom was already up, the soft shuffle of her footsteps accompanied by a noticeable limp. She gave me a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Good morning," she greeted me, handing me a mug. "How are you feeling, honey?"
A slight grimace crossed her face as she shifted her weight to ease the persistent ache in her abdomen. My chest tightened at the sight, knowing she always tried to hide her pain from me. She gingerly placed a hand on her side, as if to hold her ribcage together.
I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should tell her about the break-in. But I couldn't bear to worry her even more. I nodded, grateful for the warm beverage. "I'm fine," I lied.
The sound of the toilet flushing echoed through the hallway, and my heart skipped a beat. The mere thought of facing Jake made my skin crawl. I knew better than to stick around. I grabbed my jacket, ignoring the way Mom's eyes followed me with a silent question. I needed space, air, anything to clear my head. And most importantly, I needed to find out who the fuck was toying with me.
The sun had barely risen, casting a golden glow over the campus grounds as I made my way towards the auditorium for my morning lecture. The ivy-covered brick buildings of the Academy towered over me. Inside, the walls were adorned with portraits of past alumni, each one looking down on us like they were judging us from the grave.
In the sea of half-awake faces, I spotted Helena, who was seated a few rows away. Our eyes briefly met, and her lips curled into a small smile in response to my wave.
Professor Harrison stormed into the classroom, a stern look on her face, her staccato heels echoing on the marble floor. With a sharp nod, she began her lecture on the forensic analysis of crime scenes.
As she spoke, my mind buzzed, thinking about the break-in. I made a mental list of all the possible evidence that could have been left behind at the scene of the crime: fingerprints on the windowpane, DNA samples from skin cells or hair follicles, footprints. I was determined to sift through every shred of proof, to uncover even the tiniest hint that could lead me to the intruder.
I didn't have access to the CSI-grade equipment that professors had at their disposal. No fancy microscopes or high-tech forensic tools. But perhaps my unusual set of skills could actually be useful for once. My ability to pick up the most minute details might just be the key to solving this case.
When the lecture ended, I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed towards the door. I caught sight of Helena standing by her desk, gathering her own things. She looked up and our eyes locked. Her familiar face was like a balm for my anxious thoughts.
"Hey," she greeted while organizing her belongings. "Caught you daydreaming again. How was the lecture?"
"Informative," I shrugged. "Funny how much you can learn about a person from the smallest details."
My eyes flickered to the cut on her face. My enhanced vision confirmed it was still as raw as the day before. A surge of protectiveness hit me, but I swallowed it down.
She followed my gaze and touched the bandage covering it. "Almost healed."
"Good," I said, trying not to think about what I wanted to do to the sons of bitches who had caused this.
Helena turned back to her stuff, toying with the edges of her criminology textbook. "So, my family's throwing a gala this weekend," she said, biting her lower lip. "Wanna be my plus one?"
My pulse quickened. "You're kidding, right?"
The gala sounded like something out of a fairy tale, something that happened to people who lived in a world far removed from mine.
"Nope," she grinned. "And I bet you'd look pretty sharp with a bit of help. I'm serious."
Heat crawled up my cheeks. My family could barely afford new clothes, let alone fancy ones for a formal event. "I...I don't have anything appropriate to wear," I confessed.
Helena placed a reassuring hand on my biceps. "Don't worry, Clark. I'll help you pick something out," she said, still beaming at me. Her hand sent warmth through my veins. Her smile was infectious, and I found myself returning it despite my nerves.
I let out a breath and nodded. "Alright," I said, feeling the tension loosen its grip. "I'll go with you. But don't expect me to dance."
Helena's grin widened, and her hand squeezed my arm just a smidge. "Great!" she said. "It'll be fun, I promise."
The cafeteria was filled with a buzz of activity as students bustled about, chattering and laughing over their meals. The high ceilings of the grand hall amplified the sound, making it seem almost cacophonous. A group of well-dressed young women sat at a table, nibbling on salads while chatting and giggling amongst themselves. Their designer handbags rested on the back of their chairs, each one seemingly more expensive than the last.
I heard the snide voice of Tyler Kingsley before I saw him.
"Well well well, if it isn't the charity case and his little girlfriend," he taunted, eyeing us both with disdain. "I'm surprised you can even afford to buy food." I glanced over at Helena, who stood tall and defiant, her eyes locked onto Tyler's.
"Tyler, just do us a favor and fuck off. We're not interested in your little power trip," she shot back, rolling her eyes.
His gaze flicked over to Helena, a predatory gleam in his eyes. My grip tightened on my tray and I felt small dents forming under my fingers.
"Ooh, aren't you a feisty one?" Tyler's blond combed back hair caught the light as he sneered at us. "They are the most fun to play with," he added, his lips curling into a ferocious smirk.
"Shut the hell up," I growled, teeth grinding together.
I had to resist the urge to throw him through the nearest wall. Keep it together. I couldn't let Tyler drag me into a brawl or worse.
I shifted slightly in front of Helena, silently willing Tyler to back off. I had no desire to see her dragged into this mess. Not if I could help it.
Tyler's eyes flicked back to me, his smirk widening as he took in my defensive stance. "Oh, look at the hero," he jeered. "Protecting his little girlfriend. You gonna fight me, Narrows Boy?"
My jaw tightened at the nickname, the knot of anger twisting tighter in my stomach. All I could think of was wiping the smug grin off his face. The power within me surged, itching for an outlet. But I wasn't taking the bait. I glared back, daring him to cross the line.
Helena's hand brushed against mine, a silent show of solidarity. Before I could say anything, she spoke up. "Well, it's been lovely chatting with you, Tyler," she said, "But I think we'll go find some more pleasant company."
As we turned to walk away, my heightened senses picked up a subtle flicker of movement. There was a flash of silver and a moment later, I heard a cry of pain. Tyler was clutching at his thigh, a fork sticking out, his eyes wide with surprise and anger. He stumbled back, yanking out the metallic object that had impaled him. Tyler's friends began to cluster around him, their confused expressions mirroring my own.
For a moment, I just stood there, staring at Helena in disbelief. Did she…? I hadn't fully processed what just happened when she grabbed my arm. "Let's find somewhere else to eat." she said, pulling me out of the lunch room.
The adrenaline was still pumping through my veins as we left the bustling hall, the sounds of clinking silverware and hushed conversations fading behind us.
I struggled to process what I had just witnessed. Could that really have been Helena? The idea she could have been able to move so quickly and expertly with the utensil made me wonder. It was like she had done it a hundred times before.
As impressed as I was, the reality of the situation quickly set in. Tyler was not one to take a hit lying down, and I knew he would come looking for revenge. The prospect of him linking Helena to the fork incident set my nerves on edge.
Tyler's constant teasing had always been an annoyance, but the thought of Helena becoming a target sent chills down my spine. I couldn't let him hurt her.
"He's not going to let this go, you know." I muttered.
I made a silent promise that I would do whatever it took to keep Helena safe.