34. Frankie

I can no longer pretendthat everything around me is normal.

From the moment I woke up this morning, I knew the normalcy I clung to for the last two years dissolved. The secrets I carry press down on me with a suffocating weight, an ever-present cloak of dread that I can neither shed nor escape.

I also can't bring myself to talk about it with anyone, even though I know that would be the logical thing to do. If I could just open my mouth and discuss it, even with Tori, then maybe I wouldn't be sitting here on campus, simmering in my own cloud of denial.

This morning, Tori and I returned to campus early. After a quick shower, I dressed in my jogging gear and hit the path, a ritual that normally clears my mind, but today is different. Today, I'm looking at everything with new eyes.

As I run along the winding path that encircles the campus, the familiar sights take on a shadowy, sinister hue under the gray morning sky. The surf crashes relentlessly against the rocky shoreline, sending sprays of cold, salty mist into the air, which settles on my skin like a ghostly caress. The towering old oaks, usually so majestic, now seem to hunch over the trail, their gnarled branches twisting like tortured souls reaching out toward the sea fog that clings to their bark.

"I'm losing my mind," I mutter to myself, the words barely audible over the roar of the ocean.

Each footfall on the damp gravel feels deliberate, echoing ominously against the backdrop of the ocean's roar. My breath comes in steady puffs, visible in the chilly air, mingling with the sea mist like spirits being exhaled into the world. It's a rhythmic reminder of the isolation I feel, surrounded by beauty that somehow seems malevolent today.

I pass the old library, its stone facade more foreboding than ever. The gargoyles perched along the roofline peer down at me, their expressions grotesque and mocking. I've jogged past this building a thousand times, but today, it feels as though they are watching me, aware of my growing suspicions and the secrets I'm beginning to unravel.

As I round the corner near the botanical gardens, the scent of saltwater mixes with the smell of damp earth and decaying leaves. The gardens are a riot of color, even in the dim light, but the beauty of the blooms does nothing to lift the heaviness that settles over me. The whispering of wind through the trees sounds like hushed conversations, secrets being exchanged just beyond my hearing.

I slow as I approach the small bridge over a narrow part of the creek that cuts through campus. The water flows quietly below, dark and mysterious, mingling with the larger, more ominous sea beyond. Leaning against the railing, I look down into the water, half expecting to see something unnatural lurking beneath the surface, but there's nothing—just the occasional leaf floating past, carried away by the gentle current.

It's here, in this quiet, secluded spot that the weight of everything I've learned feels most oppressive. The pieces of the puzzle are slowly fitting together, each one revealing more of the dark tapestry that is the true nature of this place. Before I understood their significance, the sigils were merely intriguing designs to me, curious symbols etched into doorframes, carved into the bark of trees, and hidden in the ornate ironwork of gates. However, after recent sessions with Bishop, where he meticulously explained the cipher, these symbols have taken on a new meaning. Each sigil, I've learned, carries a specific meaning.

Protection.

Binding.

Power.

Recognizing them now feels like reading a secret language that reveals warnings, or perhaps serves as markers in an arcane surveillance system monitoring my every move.

As I push off from the railing and resume my jog, my mind races with the implications of these revelations. The shadows seem to cling a little closer, the whispers of the wind more insistent, mixed with the distant cries of seabirds. I force myself to pick up the pace, trying to outrun my own thoughts, but the chilling realization remains—no matter how fast I run, I can't escape the truth that is slowly enveloping me.

It's impossible to escape the feeling that the academy is alive, that it breathes and watches and perhaps waits. The thought sends a shiver down my spine as I head toward the athletic fields—the only place left where I might find some semblance of normalcy. The ambient sounds of the campus seem to follow me, whispering secrets I'm not ready to understand.

As I emerge from the trees, the open expanse of the rugby field offers a brief respite from the claustrophobic atmosphere of the wooded paths and the sea. Here, at least, the sky seems a bit brighter, the air less oppressive, filled with the fresh, earthy scent of grass still damp with morning dew. I make my way to the track, where the synthetic surface feels reassuringly solid and real under my feet, a stark contrast to the shifting, uncertain ground of my thoughts.

Even here, though, in this clear, open space, I can't shake the sensation of being observed. I glance around, expecting to see a figure lurking at the edge of the woods or a face peering out from one of the windows of the distant dormitories. Nothing moves, but the unease remains, a constant companion that I know won't easily be dismissed. It's as if the air around me holds its breath, waiting for my next move.

I need to hunt.

The thought has me pausing on the track, my breathing heavy and my heart racing in my chest. I know just when I can go—the eclipse. The entire campus will be shut down. The town will be damn near shut down. Everyone will be celebrating. Which, now that I think about it, is incredibly odd. A whole town shutting down for an eclipse?

I'm going to the party with Tori at the Grotto, so what if I just slip out for an hour or two? The need to remove an abuser from this world almost overtakes all my thoughts, echoing with each stride as I jog along the path.

My focus is so intense that I barely notice the approach of someone until he's beside me. Startled, I turn to find Leo matching my pace, a ridiculous smile on his face and two cups of coffee in his hands. His sudden appearance startles me, but his familiar presence quickly turns into a comforting distraction from the dark whirlpool of my thoughts.

Leo's smile widens as he hands me one of the cups, the steam curling up into the cool air. "I hope I'm not espresso-ing myself too forwardly, but I thought you might need a pick-me-up," he quips, the warmth in his eyes matching the heat from the cup he extends to me.

I can't help but laugh a real laugh that feels like it bubbles up from somewhere deep inside, somewhere that hasn't seen much light lately. "That's so brew-tal, Leo," I retort, accepting the coffee. The warmth from the cup seeps into my hands, pulling me back from the edge of my spiraling thoughts.

"Only the best brew puns for you," he says as we resume walking, our strides falling into a comfortable rhythm. We take a moment just to sip our coffees, letting the silence between us fill with the sounds of our footfalls and the distant crash of the waves. The rich, bitter aroma of the coffee blends seamlessly with the salty air, creating an oddly comforting atmosphere, a brief sanctuary from the undercurrents of darkness that permeate the campus.

"So what brings you out here with coffee?" I ask, glancing over at him. "Don't tell me you just happened to be running with two cups of coffee."

Leo grins, shrugging nonchalantly. "I saw you heading out from the dorms. Figured you could use a coffee... or company. Or both." His tone is light, but there's a trace of something more, a sort of earnestness that makes me look at him a little longer than usual.

"I appreciate it," I say, taking another sip of the coffee. "It's really good."

"Only the best for the best," he replies smoothly, his smile not fading. "It's a new blend I tried, thinking it might suit your latte needs."

I chuckle, shaking my head at the pun. "You're lucky you're cute, because your puns are…" I trail off, searching for the right word.

"Un-bean-lievable?" he offers, winking at me.

"Exactly," I agree, laughing. The sound feels foreign but good, a reminder that despite the shadows, there are still moments of light to be found.

We walk in silence for a few moments. The salty sea air mixes with the faint scent of pine from the nearby woods, creating a fresh, invigorating aroma that fills my lungs with each breath. I find myself glancing at Leo occasionally, noticing the way his hair is tousled perfectly by the wind and how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, each expression revealing a glimpse of the carefree spirit he often masks.

"So," Leo starts, breaking the silence, his voice cutting gently through the whispering winds, "got any plans for the eclipse?"

"Yeah, actually," I respond, feeling the weight of the coffee in my hand, both a literal and metaphorical anchor in this moment. "Going to the Grotto party with Tori. You?"

"I'll be there too," he says, his tone casual but his glance quick and sharp, full of hope. "Maybe we can watch it together? I hear it's going to be quite the stir."

"I think I'd like that," I admit, surprising myself with the ease of my own honesty. The words feel right, settling into the space between us with a comfortable weight.

Leo's smile deepens, and he nudges me gently with his elbow. "It's a date then. A coffee date, under the stars and the shadow of the moon."

"That sounds... perfect," I say, and I mean it. The idea of spending more time with him under the pretense of watching the eclipse seems like the most appealing thing in the world. I'll just have to hunt afterwards.

We finish our coffee as we approach the end of the track, the warmth from the drink lingering in my hands. Leo tosses his empty cup into a nearby recycling bin and then looks over at me, his eyes softening.

"Hey, Frankie?" he starts, and I tilt my head, inviting him to continue. "Thanks for letting me exist with you. It's... nice. Really nice."

"It is," I agree, feeling a smile tug at my lips. "And thanks for the coffee. It was exactly what I needed."

As I look at the ground, I watch his shadow move under his feet. I try to control my reaction as I freeze. I lift my coffee cup to my mouth and sip before looking away. Did I see what I think I did?

"I'm sorry I missed you at the game last night." I peek over at him as I steer us back toward the tower dorms. "I went for a hot dog and all hell broke loose."

Leo grabs my arm, turning me toward him. His touch is gentle yet firm, filled with urgency. "You went," he states. As realization dawns on him, his eyes are wide and full of… hope? Yes, that is definitely hope.

"I did." I sip my coffee again as I try to gauge his reactions, but he has a better poker face than I do.

"So you came to watch us?" His hand is still on my bicep, now making little circles with his thumb, a comforting motion that somehow makes this intense conversation a bit easier.

"I did."

"And what did you see?" he presses, his voice low.

No way he's asking about the game."Well, the lights went out, and Dorian rushed me to a safe room," I blurt, the words tumbling out in a rush.

He sighs in relief before looking around us, but we are alone on the path on a Sunday. No one is around. Just us. No one to hear his words.

"They, ah…"

"Aren't supposed to exist," I finish for him, using the words that Tori whispered to me yesterday mid-hug.

"Right," he drawls, his voice a mixture of relief and resignation. "That."

I hum and turn around to walk away. If he follows, he follows. If he doesn't, then that's on him.

"Wait." He catches up to me, and I hide my smile.

"Leo." I look up at him. His hair is growing out now. He shaved the sides, and now he's styled his hair into a mullet, which is surprisingly sexy if I'm being honest. "Shadow Locke University, do you notice anything weird about it?" Or weird about its students?

"Just a university on an island," he says, his voice steady.

"Is it though?" I prompt, pushing for more, needing him to understand the depth of my questioning.

"Does it matter?" he asks, a frown creasing his forehead.

Does it matter? Yeah, it fucking matters. It matters a lot. "Yes."

He sighs, the weight of the confession bending the air around us. "When I was little, my sister used to lock me in the closet." The admission seems to float between us, his voice a quiet tremor. "I was never scared. Do you know why?"

Frowning, I look up at him, the gravity of his question pulling at the edges of my understanding. "No…" I draw the word out, a soft echo in the growing silence.

"I wasn't afraid because there's nothing to fear," he says slowly, his words layered with a depth that suggests hidden currents.

Leo's statement hangs between us, charged and heavy with an unspoken message. I stare at him, trying to decipher his meaning, trying to understand why his past, his fears—or lack thereof—seem so vital. His eyes hold mine, steady and unwavering, as if anchoring me in the tumult of my own roiling thoughts.

"Frankie," he says softly, "you're not alone here. Whatever you're thinking, whatever you're afraid of... It isn't just you. You can open up to me."

I take a deep breath, the sea air filling my lungs, mingling with the scent of damp earth and the distant tang of salt. Part of me wants to spill everything, to share the burdens that have been piling up inside me since I arrived at Shadow Locke University, but another part holds back, wary of exposing too much, too soon. I made that mistake in the past, and I won't make it again.

"Why are you telling me this, Leo?" My voice is barely above a whisper, as fragile as the mist that begins to gather around our feet.

"Because I see you," he replies, his voice soft. "You're always looking over your shoulder, always on edge. It's like you're waiting for something bad to happen, and I think... I think you see things. Things others don't or can't."

I blink, taken aback by his insight. It's true. I see the shadows, the sigils, and the subtle movements that no one else seems to notice. How does he know?

Leo takes a step closer, his presence reassuring yet intimidating. "Frankie, this island, this school—it's not normal, but neither are we. We're part of something bigger, something older than any of us can understand. You aren't alone."

His words echo in my head, a mantra that seeps into the crevices of my solitude. You aren't alone. It's a concept that feels foreign yet desperately desired. I look up at him, seeing the earnestness in his gaze, and something shifts within me. Trust, tentative and fragile, begins to form.

All I can do is nod and look away. I understand what he's saying, but it isn't that easy, at least not for me.

We start walking toward the dorms, our steps naturally synchronizing. As we walk, I feel the weight of the island's secrets pressing down on us, but alongside it, there's a new feeling—a sense of partnership and shared understanding.

When we reach the tower, Leo stops and turns to me. "Hey, Frankie?"

"Yeah?" I look up at him, caught in his gaze.

"Thanks for opening up to me. I know it's not easy for you." He reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. His touch is light, but it sends warmth through me.

"It's getting easier," I admit, allowing myself a small smile. "Thanks to you."

He grins then glances up at the sky where the sun hides behind clouds. "I can't wait for you to understand," he whispers to himself, more to the wind than to me.

I'm suddenly determined to figure out the mystery of Leo, this island, and my own place within it. All of it feels like a puzzle I'm compelled to solve, each piece more intriguing than the last.