Chapter 4 REUNITED

OLIVE'S P.O.V

Caleb laced his fingers through mine, guiding me out of the dining hall, down the stairs, and straight out of the dormitory. We hurried past the water fountain and the administration building, walking until the chaos of the school became distant.

He sat me down on a wooden bench, fixed on a lawn under the shade of a small tree. The moment we were finally alone, the dam broke.

I sobbed against his chest, crying about everything. The cruel way my foster parents treated me, the bathroom incident, the deep ache in my bones, the bloodshot eye of the victim, and the burning sting still lingering on my cheek. There were too many reasons to cry. It was only my first day at Mors, and it had already gone so horribly wrong.

Warm arms wrapped securely around me, and his soothing touch on my skin tried to quiet my tears.

“It’s okay, Ollie.”

My breath hitched, and I pulled back slightly as my brain finally registered the reality of the situation. Caleb was here… my Caleb.

He reached for my face, his thumbs gently wiping away my tears as he studied me.

“I’m so sorry about what happened,” he whispered, lightly tracing the spot where I had been struck.

“You’re actually here?”

Ever since my foster parents did everything in their power to separate us, I had lost all contact with him for months. They seized my phone and grounded me, forbidding me from stepping foot outside the house until they found the right boarding school to banish me to. Honestly, I thought I would never see Caleb again, yet here he was in the flesh.

“Yeah. My dad got a new job, so we had to relocate,” he explained with a faint smile, his thumb still brushing my stinging cheek. “We’ve been moving around a lot, so I enrolled here a month ago. I tried to reach out to you… so many times. I even came by your house, but you were never in your room.”

Of course he had come for me. Caleb would never leave me without at least trying to say goodbye.

“They moved my room to the basement… and they took my phone away,” I explained sadly. “I’m so sorry, Caleb.”

“Don’t be. It wasn't your fault. At least we’re together now.”

I managed a small smile. “Who would’ve thought?”

He leaned in for a hug but paused, glancing down at my ruined uniform. His own clothes were a mess too, smeared with the thick brown muck from when he had pulled me away earlier.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, easing my messy blazer off my shoulders. He then unbuttoned his own jacket, shrugging it off.

As the heavy fabric fell away, my breath caught in my throat. Underneath, his fitted white shirt clung to a chest that was noticeably broader and firmer than I remembered. The fabric stretched tight across his torso, and the top few buttons were undone, exposing the clean line of his collarbones and the hard plane of muscle beneath. His arms flexed as he tossed the blazer aside, looking thicker and stronger than before.

Three months apart had completely transformed him. He was much bigger, taller now—rugged, with a masculine edge that made my heart race. He had always been good-looking, but he had grown undeniably handsome.

I looked up, meeting his deep brown eyes, which softened the moment they locked onto mine. A few strands of his dark, wavy hair fell perfectly across his forehead, framing his face. He looked so good my knees felt weak.

“Wow… you’ve changed a lot.”

He cocked a brow, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“I’m still the same guy.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, leaning back against the bench.

“I’ve been training for college football,” he added, almost defensively. “You know, lifting weights and stuff like that.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my lips as he tried to explain his glow-up.

“You’ve changed too, y’know,” he murmured.

His comment caught me off guard, making me self-conscious. I hadn’t seen him in three months, and while he looked like a total model, I had just been crying my eyes out with food splattered all over me.

I looked terrible.

Did ‘changed’ mean I looked worse?

“In a good way or bad way?” I asked, forcing a small, teasing smile to mask the panic in my chest.

He blinked, surprised that I even had to ask. The intimidating look he usually wore was gone, replaced with a warm crinkle around his eyes.

“A really good way,” he said softly, leaning a fraction closer. “You just... you look incredible.”

Another slow smirk pulled at his lips as his gaze drifted over me. Unlike me, Caleb wasn’t shy about telling me exactly what was on his mind.

He leaned closer, his breath warm as he whispered. “My Ollie is hot.”

I smacked his arm playfully, a quiet laugh escaped. His compliments were doing things to me, things that made me feel fuzzy and warm.

Caleb gazed at my face one last time, gently brushing my cheek.

“I’m guessing you hate Mors just as much as I do?”

His question brought me back to reality, reminding me of the day’s terrible events.

I let out a tired sigh, staring ahead at the imposing structure we had just escaped. We were seated directly behind it, and right through those walls was the dining hall. Inside were our classmates, my new roommates, the bullies... and that poor girl.

I leaned my head against Caleb’s shoulder.

“The people here are so… weird.”

He let out a humourless laugh. “Tell me about it.”

And so, I did. I opened up and told him about my entire day—though I purposely left out the part when Amy Banks had welcomed me with a kiss. I had no idea how Caleb would react to that, and I didn’t want to risk ruining this moment.

“Who is the ‘Top Boy’?” I asked him once I had finished my summary. “It’s all anyone has been talking about since I arrived. Top Boy wants this, and Top Boy wants that.”

From where we sat, I glanced back up at the dining hall we had just fled. The windows were now thrown wide open, and the heavy curtains that had previously darkened the hall were pulled aside.

A girl stood framed in the opening, peering down at us.

“I haven’t been here for very long, but I think it’s a game the girls in our year play,” Caleb explained.

“A game?”

“Yeah. From what I understand, they perform these specific tasks to move up.”

“Move up what?”

“A social ladder,” Caleb answered. “The entire class is governed by a hidden social hierarchy, controlled by Top Boy.”

Caleb leaned back, stretching his arm along the bench behind my head while I turned the thought over in my mind.

“Are the elite part of this game?” I asked, returning my gaze to the girl at the window. By the looks of it, she seemed to be actively spying on Caleb and me. How annoying.

“Elites?” Caleb repeated, frowning.

“Yeah. Earlier, some girls mentioned that the elevator only worked for them. Everyone else had to take the stairs.”

“That’s crazy. The elevator works for everyone. I took it earlier,” he said matter-of-factly.

I stared out into space, the battered face of the girl who had rejected my help flashing through my mind. Her bruised skin, her bloodshot eye, her cut lip—that couldn’t possibly be part of some silly high school popularity game. That was outright, vicious abuse.

She needs help.

“Look, Ollie, it’s best if you stay out of their silly game,” Caleb warned, his tone turning serious. “It seems obsessive and dangerous.”

He took my hand in his and squeezed it gently.

“We’ll be seniors soon, and I’m just really grateful the universe brought you back to me.”

His thumbs rubbed soothing circles against my skin, and he flashed that eye-squinting smile that brought out the deep dimples in his cheek.

My absolute favourite smile.

It had me smiling in return, melting the tension away. “I’m really glad the universe brought you back to me too.”

He moved closer, opening his arms for a hug. I eagerly melted into his embrace, enjoying the comforting warmth.

As I tried to relax, my head tilted over his shoulder, my gaze landing back on the dining hall window. The girl was still there, but now she was gripping the wooden frame.

“What on earth is she doing?” I muttered.

Caleb pulled back, turning his head to follow my gaze.

The girl hauled herself up for support, climbing onto the ledge of the window.

My eyes narrowed, straining to make out her features through the dim light.

“The girl!" I screamed. "The girl that slapped me, that’s her!”