Nova  P.O.V

Date: October 16, 2238

Darkness enveloped Troy and me, wrapping us in its cold embrace as we stood pressed together in the small room. A single metal door the sole thing protecting us from the danger lurking on the other side. Underneath the doorway, a sliver of light crept through, falling across the floor. Its continuing solidity tied directly to my heartstrings.

Troy's arms tightened around my waist, holding me closer to his solid chest. I couldn't help but feel his rapid heartbeat through his t-shirt. It matched my own as we waited for the inevitable.

"We're finally alone," Troy's sultry voice spoke directly in my ear. Before the tip of his nose traced the shell of my ear, sending shivers up and down my frame.

"What?" I muttered, checking the bottom of the door to see if anyone was closing in on our temporary hideout.

"I've been dying to get you alone." My head jerked up, trying to see his face, but my eyes still hadn't adjusted to the darkness. "Just you and me without any interruptions." He continued as my body stiffened.

Troy immediately kneaded my lower back muscles until my body became pliant beneath his skillful digits. My shirt bunched under his ministrations, leaving me exposed to the cold air and his wandering hands.

Those warm, calloused hands glided over my skin, sending another onslaught of delightful shivers coursing through my body.

My breath stuttered, and my eyes fell half closed as I melted further into his body. The masterful strokes and the heat radiating from his palms were going to be my downfall as they slowly worked to crumble the last of my resistance.

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip in a desperate attempt to stifle the moan threatening to slip past. But one rub of his unshaven cheek against mine released it. The prickly hairs were a new but pleasant sensation along with the tingles they left in their wake. And before I could fully get used to it, he pressed his lips to my jaw.

I gasped. The upper part of my body lurched forward, pressing deeper into him. I mentally cursed as a needy whine, a sound I hadn't been aware I could produce, continuously escaped my lips as he slowly trailed butterfly kisses along my jawline. Each torturous kiss brought him closer and closer to the corner of my lips.

And when he was within an inch of them, he cupped my chin, slightly turned my head, and...

My eyes sprung open as someone pounded on my dorm room door, disrupting my dream. A faint glow shined through the window as I looked over at Stacy's still slumbering form. With one hand dangling over the edge of the bed and her head buried under her pillow, she showed no signs of having heard the knock.

"This better be an emergency," I grumbled, flinging my covers from across my legs and rising from my bed.

Whoever this was, I would find out what they wanted, then quickly send them on their way. Sleep was more important. But I doubted it would come easily with the lingering memories of my dream still at the forefront of my mind.

I yanked open the door and came face-to-face with Troy. His hair was in a low bun, and he wore the same black uniform we usually wear, but something was different. Or rather, I was different. I was hyper-aware of everything Troy. The woodsy scent wafting off his body tickled my nostrils, coaxing me in for a deeper inhale.

Stepping slightly back, I resisted the temptation. However, the thin black shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders snagged my attention. Unconsciously my tongue darted out, moistening my lips as my eyes slowly drifted lower. The fabric clung to his chest and narrow waist, showcasing every rippling muscle every time he shifted.

Don't eye fuck your best friend. I mentally scolded, snapping my eyes back to his and forcing myself to make eye contact. Instead of letting them feast on the sculpted body in front of me. Seeing Troy in person was way more dangerous than my dream version of him. Every part of me ached and burned with the desire to touch him. So I folded my arms and balled my hands to stop myself.

"What-What are you doing here?" I finally asked.

"It's the first day back. So I thought all of us could walk over together."

"Oh. Uh... give me...give me a few minutes to change." I said, waving a hand at my pajama-clad body.

He nodded, but his eyes weren't on me. Well, at least not my face. They're raking down my body, hungrily devouring every inch of my exposed skin. And once he finished his perusal, his tongue darted out to moisten his lips as his darkened gaze returned to mine.

Troy either didn't know or didn't give a damn about the rule. I narrowed my eyes at him trying to remind him telepathically of it. Okay. Yes, I had done the same thing a few seconds ago, but that doesn't count. I hadn't been fully awake yet.

Jax's head popped around the doorframe. And only now did I realize he had been there the entire time. "Umm... can we come in?" He asked.

"No!" I yelled, earning suspicious looks from them. "I mean... you can't because... Stacey is still sleeping."

"Alright, we'll wait out here then."

"Okay."

Not wasting another second, I closed the door and sagged against letting out a deep sigh.

Today was going to be a long day.

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What are we doing? That question plagued my mind for over a week with no apparent answer in sight. The lingering heated glances exchanged between us weren't just my imagination. How the air in the room became charged whenever we occupied the same space couldn't just be my imagination. I only hoped that this wasn't playful flirtation. Or worse, a way for him to amuse himself before he eventually moved on to something else. Someone else.

I couldn't throw away fifteen years of friendship for a simple fling. He meant more to me than that, and I wished he felt the same way about me. Whatever was happening between us was beginning to manifest in my dreams, and I knew my worries wouldn't disappear until I talked to Troy about everything.

"Well, not everything. I definitely wouldn't mention my dream." I muttered to myself.

Great. Now I'm talking to myself.

I glanced around, being discreet as possible, to check if anyone had overheard. There was a boy with dirty blond hair on my right bent over a cart as he meticulously arranged six knives until they lay an equal distance apart. Then to my left, Stacy stood staring at the archery target at the end of her lane, deep lines etched across her brow.

A sigh of relief left my lips, realizing they were each absorbed in their own world, paying zero attention to me.

I moved forward, stopping shy of stepping on the yellow 'Do not cross' line painted across the floor, and rotated my shoulders, releasing some of the tension. My own target lay ahead of me, awaiting the knives at my side.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a thick waist-length blond braid swinging as its owner moved closer. The rapunzel-esque hairdo belonged to Mrs. Steven, the class instructor. I'd know it anywhere. The knots in my shoulders returned as she stopped somewhere behind me.

Shit.

Her sudden appearance reminded me that this wasn't the time or place for my previous thoughts. I could feel the heat of her steely blue gaze on the back of my head.

Wiping my damp palms on my pants leg, I picked up one of the knives off the cart. I had done this more than a dozen times before, but having Mrs. Steven closely observe my technique rattled my nerves.

Focus! You can do this! I closed my eyes, breathing slowly in and out, and didn't open them until my heartbeat returned to a less frantic pace.

Carefully holding the blade between my right thumb and index finger, I bend my arm back, close to my ear, then release it, sending the knife soaring through the air. With a thud, it impaled the target to the left of the center. Bullseye!

I spun around, looking for Mrs. Steven to hear her critique, only to find the space empty. Instead, she stood a few feet away, speaking with another student.

I softly sighed, not in the least surprised. Mrs. Stevens was the type of teacher that rarely praised a student unless she was genuinely impressed. And she wouldn't hesitate to correct someone if their technique was flawed. So while I hadn't impressed her, she hadn't spotted anything that needed immediate improvement either.

That was a win in my book, at least.

I turned to my cart, picked up another nine-inch knife identical to the one lodged into the target, and repeated my previous actions. Only this time, I didn't focus on which circle each landed but threw knife after knife until my fingers brushed the bottom of the cold metal cart.

"Okay, who is he? And how badly do I need to injure him?" Stacy asked, lightly bumping her shoulder into mine.

"What are you talking about?"

"The guy that clearly pissed you off. Because you had to be imagining him to do that." She pointed at the target, eyeing each one of the knives in silent awe.

An involuntary whistle passed my lips upon realizing all my knives were in the bullseyes or near it. Damn. With my mind muddled with thoughts of Troy, I was just as lethal as I was clear headed. Perhaps even more so.

"Come on. Who is he?" Stacy urged with a jab of her elbow into my side.

"Nobody."

Her eyes flitted across my face as if searching for signs of deception before she turned away. "Mmm. Okay."

"Besides, I wouldn't hide that from you."

She smiles. "True."

There's a beat of silence before she says, "I can't believe classes have resumed, but they haven't given us an explanation or update on Ms. Jacob's condition or something."

I nodded in agreement.

"I mean... they interrogated us then poked and prodded us and nothing."

"Yeah." I breathed out, looking around to see if anyone was still throwing knives.

Stacy sucked her teeth and placed her hand on her hip. "Damn, Nova, are you going to make me beg?"

"I'm listening to you."

"I'm not talking about that. I mean... you have been tightlipped for like the last week. Are you going to tell me what you're planning?"

"I'm not planning anything." I softly chuckled at her accusation before going over to the target. One by one, I removed the knives, buying myself some time until I had to return and face her.

Every day it was getting harder and harder to keep what Jax, Troy, Maverick, and myself had discovered hidden from her. But I had to for her and her family's safety.

While pulling out the last knife, I spotted a small cage mounted to the wall above the target with a camera inside.

How could we have forgotten to check the security cameras around the school?

I head back over to Stacy with the knives in tow.

"Okay, time to switch, everyone! Those of you at the targets, let the next ten students practice." Mrs. Stevens announced from the middle of the room.

"There are cameras in here," I stated, laying the knives on the cart beside Stacy.

"Yeah. Mrs. Steven uses them to help us analyze and track our improvements." She slowly spoke as if she was talking to a deranged person on the edge of snapping. "And make sure no one accidentally walks off with any of the weapons." She added, jerking her head in the direction of a camera in the right corner of the room, angled towards the storage room entrance.

"Are there cameras in the other classrooms?"

"Do you mean besides History class?"

"Yes." I lightly chuckled.

Everyone already knew about that camera, and I doubted it would help anyway.

"Then nope. Just the hallways and the perimeter of the school. Why?"

"I want..." I glanced over my shoulder before lowering my voice to a whisper. "To pull up the footage."

"Nova, that's a terrible idea." She immediately dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. "That computer only has access to the footage from the cameras in this room. Not the entire school."

"Oh. So how can I get access?"

"I only know one way. And unless you're Dean Winston or a part of the security team, it won't be easy."

Maverick could...Maybe. He'd said he'd be willing to help, and what better chance than this?

"How?"

She sighed deeply. "In the security room."

"Okay, that's not a problem." I turned and pushed my cart toward the storage room but not before seeing her jaw drop.

"Wait, wait, wait." She grabbed my arm, stopping me. "What the hell do you mean it's not a problem?"

"Nothing. Forget about it, Stace. I don't want to put you or your family in danger."

"Oh, god," she muttered on an exhale, swiping her palm across her forehead. "Does this have anything to do with the gossip about you recording Ms. Jacob's attack?"

I nodded. "Yes."

Her eyes bulged. "Are you telling me it's true? How did you even do it?"

"I didn't. Nina did."

She froze, my confession rendering her speechless.

I pulled her off to the side, near the bleachers, as Mrs. Steven looked our way. "Girls? Is there a problem?" She called, taking a step toward us.

Yes! A big one. But nothing she could help with.

"No," I quickly replied, flashing a smile to assure her.

Stacy tried to do the same but only managed to grimace. Which only further increased Mrs. Steven's already rising suspicions. Good, lord. She headed toward us. Her footsteps slow and steady. But by the grace of God, a student called from the other side of the room, forcing her to change course.

I let out a relieved breath and turned to Stacy, who's looking up at me through watery eyes. "How?" She asked, her voice hoarse.

"The glasses she had were camera glasses. But don't worry." I pulled her into a side hug. "As far as I'm concerned, no one will ever know of her involvement. I promise."

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