“You are going to marry him.”

Raine nearly choked on his fries.

“What the fuck?”

Maya sat across from him with the expression of someone who’d just cracked an international conspiracy.

“You’ve spoken to him for one class, and you’re going to marry him.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Same difference.”

“No.”

“He’s a guitarist.”

“So?”

“You’re a guitarist.”

“Breaking news. Two people have the same hobby.”

“You were flirting.”

“I was being hostile.”

“That’s how you flirt.”

Raine pointed a fry at her.

“I don’t flirt.”

Maya stared.

“You absolutely flirt.”

“When?”

“You told Jake Bellamy his face made you reconsider pacifism.”

“He annoyed me.”

“He asked for your number afterward.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

Maya laughed. Raine looked toward the cafeteria entrance despite himself. Noah hadn’t appeared. Not that he cared. Obviously. He ate another fry. Maya noticed.

“Looking for your boyfriend?”

“Looking for the nearest exit.”

“Same direction?”

Raine sighed.

“Do you ever get tired?”

“No.”

“Unfortunate.”

Someone dropped into the seat beside him.

“Who’s your boyfriend?”

Raine almost inhaled the fry. Noah. Maya’s eyes widened with malicious delight. Raine considered whether murder in a school cafeteria was worth the paperwork.

“I don’t have one.”

Noah stole a fry.

“Good to know.”

Raine stared at his hand.

“Did you just take my food?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t know me.”

“We’re classmates.”

“That’s not consent to theft.”

Noah took another. Raine slapped his hand. Maya looked between them.

“Oh, this is going to be unbearable.”

Noah smiled at her.

“I’m Noah.”

“Maya.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Raine said.

“I like her already.”

“Of course you do.”

Noah looked at him.

“Music room?”

Raine hesitated. Then stood.

“Fine.”

Maya wiggled her eyebrows. Raine gave her a look promising violence. She blew him a kiss.

⸻

The music room was empty during lunch. That was why Raine liked it. Technically, students weren’t supposed to be there without supervision. Technically, Raine had never cared. He unlocked the instrument cabinet using a key he’d copied months ago. Noah stared.

“Should I ask?”

“No.”

“Cool.”

Raine pulled out one of the school’s acoustic guitars. It wasn’t good. The strings needed replacing, and somebody had scratched a heart into the body, but it worked. He handed it to Noah. Noah took it carefully. That earned him half a point. People who grabbed guitars by the neck like baseball bats deserved public execution. Noah sat on one of the stools and adjusted the tuning. Raine leaned against the piano.

“So?”

“So what?”

“You dragged me here.”

“I invited you.”

“You harassed me through paper correspondence.”

“Very romantic.”

Raine stared at him. Noah smiled.

“Play something.”

“You first.”

“Scared?”

“No.”

“Then play.”

“You’re holding the guitar.”

“Excuses.”

“You’re irritating.”

“I’ve heard.”

Noah strummed experimentally. Then he started playing. Raine’s expression changed. Oh. Noah wasn’t just someone who played guitar. He made the music bend to him. There was a difference. His hands moved easily across the strings, confident without trying to show off. The melody was light at first, warm and loose, something that sounded like ocean air and open windows. Then it changed. A minor chord. Unexpected. Raine straightened. Noah looked up. Still playing. Raine listened. Another progression. There. The melody wanted somewhere to go. Raine heard it almost immediately.

“Go back.”

Noah stopped.

“What?”

“The progression before that.”

Noah repeated it.

Raine stepped closer.

“No. After the E minor.”

“This?”

“Yeah.”

Noah played it. Raine hummed quietly. Once. Again. A melody formed over Noah’s chords. Noah watched him. Raine stopped.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“You sing.”

“No.”

“You just did.”

“I hummed.”

“With pitch.”

“Congratulations. You have ears.”

Noah laughed.

“Do it again.”

Raine hesitated. Singing was different. Guitar was easy. You could hide behind an instrument. Your voice was yours. No strings. No wood. Nothing between you and the person listening. Noah waited. He didn’t tease him this time. That made it worse. Raine sighed.

“Play it.”

Noah did. Raine closed his eyes. He found the melody again. This time, he let his voice follow it. Soft. Low. A little rough around the edges. No words. Just sound. When he opened his eyes, Noah wasn’t playing anymore. Raine’s stomach dropped.

“What?”

Noah stared at him.

“Dude.”

Raine immediately bristled.

“What?”

“You’re really fucking good.”

“Oh.”

Not what he’d expected. Noah shook his head.

“No, seriously. Why did you act like you didn’t sing?”

“I don’t.”

“You literally just—”

“I don’t sing for people.”

Something quiet passed over Noah’s face.

“Why me?”

Raine looked away. He didn’t know. That was the problem.

“Because if you make fun of me, I’ll kill you.”

Noah’s grin returned.

“Fair.”

He offered the guitar.

“Your turn.”

Raine took it. Their fingers touched. Nothing happened. Obviously. Except— Warm. Noah’s skin was ridiculously warm. Raine looked at their hands. Noah did too. Then Raine pulled away. He sat. Adjusted the guitar. Played. Noah’s grin disappeared. Good. Raine could show off too. His style was nothing like Noah’s. Noah played like sunlight. Raine played like midnight. Sharper progressions. Darker chords. His fingers moved rapidly, muscle memory taking over. For the first time all day, everything in Raine’s head went quiet. No Bible verses. No crosses. No locked doors. No mother whispering prayers through walls. Only strings. Only sound. Only— Noah. Raine glanced up. Noah was watching his hands. Not his face. Not his clothes. Not his body. His hands. Listening. Actually listening. Raine didn’t realize how rare that was until that moment. He finished. Silence. Noah exhaled.

“Okay.”

Raine raised an eyebrow.

“Okay?”

“I hate you.”

Raine laughed. It escaped before he could stop it. Noah pointed at him.

“There! You do have emotions.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“Your secret’s safe.”

Raine looked down at the guitar. His fingers found Noah’s earlier progression. He played it once. Noah immediately recognized it. Then Raine added something. A darker chord beneath it. Noah stepped closer.

“Wait.”

Raine repeated it. Noah grabbed another guitar from the rack.

“You have another key?”

“Crime.”

“Right.”

Noah sat opposite him.

“Again.”

Raine played. Noah joined. The first attempt was terrible. The second was worse. By the fourth, they had something. Not a song. Not yet. But the skeleton of one. Noah played the brighter melody. Raine kept pulling it downward. Minor chords beneath major ones. Light fighting shadow. Neither quite winning. Raine stopped.

“That sounds weird.”

“Good weird.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

Noah played the progression again.

“What if you sing over it?”

Raine rolled his eyes.

“You’ve heard me sing once.”

“Twice.”

“Humming doesn’t count.”

“It does now.”

Noah played. Raine tried a melody. Wrong. Again. Still wrong. Third time. There. Noah immediately changed his chord to follow him. Raine’s eyes snapped toward him. Noah looked equally surprised. Neither stopped. The music shifted. Built. For a few seconds, it felt absurdly easy. Like they’d been playing together much longer than forty minutes. Raine sang nonsense syllables over the melody. Noah laughed but kept playing. Then — the lights flickered. Both stopped. Raine looked up. The fluorescent bulbs buzzed. Once. Twice. Then it went dark.

“Oh,” Noah said.

The room plunged into shadow. Raine didn’t move. Most people needed a moment for their eyes to adjust. Raine never did. He’d always been good in the dark. His mother used to call that unnatural too. Sunlight spilled faintly through the covered windows, but it wasn’t enough to illuminate much. Noah became a silhouette across from him.

“You okay?” Noah asked.

Raine frowned.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Some people don’t like dark rooms.”

“I do.”

There was a pause.

“Of course you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, Dracula.”

Raine’s mouth fell open.

“Did you just call me fucking Dracula?”

Noah laughed. Raine reached for something to throw. Before he could — the darkness moved. Raine froze. Not metaphorically. Not his imagination. The shadow beneath the piano stretched across the floor. Toward him. Raine stared. His heartbeat slowed. The shadow touched the toe of his boot. A cold rushed through him. Not painful. Familiar. That was worse.

“Raine?”

He couldn’t answer. The darkness climbed. An inch. Two. Curling around his ankle like smoke. Raine’s breath caught. For one impossible second, he had the sensation that if he simply leaned back — he would fall. Not onto the floor. Through it. Into something underneath. Waiting.

“Raine.”

Noah’s voice sharpened. Then he stood. Sunlight exploded through the room. Raine threw an arm over his eyes.

“What the fuck?!”

Noah had yanked the blinds open. Golden afternoon light flooded the floor. The shadows vanished. Raine looked down. Nothing around his ankle. Nothing moving. Nothing impossible. His breathing sounded too loud. Noah wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Raine.”

“I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“You looked like—”

“I said I’m fine.”

Too sharp. Noah stopped. Raine stood quickly and returned the guitar to its rack. His hands trembled. He shoved them into his jacket pockets before Noah could see. He needed sleep. That was it. Stress. His mother. Three hours of sleep. Too much caffeine. Normal things. Normal explanations. There were always normal explanations. Raine walked toward the door.

“Hey.”

He stopped. Noah stood beside the window. Sunlight behind him. For one bizarre second, it almost looked like the light wasn’t merely falling on him. It looked like it belonged to him. Raine blinked. Gone. Definitely sleep deprivation. Noah lifted his guitar slightly.

“What about the song?”

Raine stared.

“The song?”

“We were writing one.”

“We played five chords.”

“That’s basically an album.”

Raine snorted. Noah smiled.

“We should finish it.”

Raine should say no. He barely knew this guy. Something strange had just happened. His mother was probably already waiting for him to come home. He had homework. He had approximately seventeen reasons not to create another obligation. Instead, he heard himself ask:

“Tomorrow?”

Noah’s smile widened.

“Tomorrow.”

Raine nodded.

“Fine.”

He opened the door.

“Raine?”

He looked back. Noah hesitated. Something unreadable crossed his face.

“Nothing.”

Raine narrowed his eyes.

“You’re weird.”

“So are you.”

“Fair.”

He left. Noah waited until Raine’s footsteps disappeared down the hallway. Then he set the guitar down. His expression fell. The room felt different without Raine in it. Not colder exactly. Hollow. Noah looked toward the place Raine had been standing. Mostly at the shadows beneath the piano. They were perfectly still. He reached underneath his linen shirt and pulled out the small bronze pendant hidden beside his shell necklace. The crest of Soteria Hall. A shield surrounding a flame. Protection. Sanctuary. Safety. Noah rubbed his thumb across it. He hadn’t imagined that. The shadows had moved. Not randomly. Toward Raine. Noah stared through the doorway.

“Well,” he whispered.

“That complicates things.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Four unread messages.