Shy

"She's shy," Brooklyn shrugged, glancing at Indianna, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere but in the classroom with them.

"Well, come on. I don't bite," Greyson urged, and Indianna stiffened—just like before.

"Don't talk about that," Indianna said. Her voice was still quiet, but firm.

"Struck a nerve, have I?" Greyson wondered. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Somebody likes it rough."

Indianna Hughs had always been the quiet one—the shy one. She stayed in the background, blending in, never getting noticed. She liked it that way.

So when she was forced to move schools, she wasn't happy. Everyone notices the new kid—and she didn't want that kind of attention, especially not from Mr. Bad Boy, who already seemed a little too interested in her.

"You'll be fine," Indianna's mother said, waving her hand dismissively.

Indianna looked out the car window, raising her dark eyebrows at the large red-brick building in front of them.

"Just be social and make friends!"

"Social," Indianna muttered as she grabbed her bag from the back seat. "Sure."

She climbed out of the car, ignoring her mother's cheerful goodbye. The door slammed behind her as she glanced up at the school. The parking lot was crowded with students—laughing, talking, existing like it was easy.

Students who noticed Indianna.

She groaned quietly and swung her bag over her shoulder. Lowering her gaze, she made her way up the steps and into the bustling corridors. Her teeth clenched as she flinched every time she accidentally brushed shoulders with someone.

If she couldn't see them... maybe they couldn't see her either.

She knew that was stupid.

The town Indianna and her mother had moved to wasn't small—but it wasn't big either. People didn't all know each other personally, but they could recognize a new face from a mile away.

And that made her anxiety spike.

She hated being noticed.

Her grip tightened around the strap of her bag as she pushed through the busy hallway. She had come to the school a few days earlier, and the principal had shown her around, so it didn't take long to find her locker.

She fumbled with the lock before finally opening it, quickly grabbing the neatly stacked textbooks and stuffing them into her bag.

Indianna hated that she could feel everyone's curious gazes on her. She hated that she stood out.

She swallowed nervously and looked at the crumpled piece of paper in her hands, scanning her timetable. Her first lesson was History.

After stuffing it back into her pocket, she braced herself and walked down the rowdy corridors, hoping to find her class quickly—just so she could have a moment of peace before being surrounded by a room full of strangers.

Indianna let out a quiet sigh of relief when she finally made it to the classroom. It was relatively empty.

Perfect.

She made a beeline for a seat at the back. No eyes on her.

Her shoulders relaxed as she leaned back in her chair.

One year, she told herself. Just one year.

She only had to survive one year in this town. Then she'd graduate... and she'd be free.

"Hi!"

Indianna's heart jumped as a blonde, curly-haired girl suddenly appeared beside her. She had a bright smile and kind brown eyes.

"You're Indianna, right? The new girl? You moved here with your mom?"

Indianna stared at her, wide-eyed.

She had wanted to go unnoticed—but clearly, that wasn't happening.

"I'm sorry," the girl said quickly, noticing her discomfort as she sat down beside her. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to introduce myself. I know what it's like to be new here—I moved last year. I'm Brooklyn, but everyone calls me Brooke."

Indianna nodded, staring down at her hands. She picked at her chipped nail polish, silently hoping Brooke would leave.

She wasn't good with people.

She preferred being alone.

Brooklyn blinked, waiting. When the silence stretched too long, she chewed on her lip.

"Not a people person?" she guessed. "That's okay. People say I talk enough for two anyway."

Indianna glanced at her briefly. Brooklyn was smiling.

"You can talk to me," she added gently. "I promise I don't bite—unlike some people in this school."

Indianna stiffened.

"No," she whispered quickly. Her voice was soft, almost fragile.

Brooklyn frowned. "No?"

"Don't... talk about that. Please."

"Talk about what?"

"Biting," Indianna muttered, forcing the word out like it burned. Her fingers tightened around her wrist, panic flashing in her eyes.

"Oh—I'm sorry," Brooklyn said quickly. "I didn't realize. I talk too much sometimes and say stupid things—I'll just... stop now—Brandon! Thank God."

A guy walked over to them. He had the same curly blonde hair and brown eyes.

"Brooke, you're not scaring the new girl, are you?" he teased with a grin, looking at Indianna curiously.

Everyone here was curious about her.

To them, she was a mystery.

And people in small towns loved solving mysteries.

"No!" Brooklyn laughed, hitting his arm as he sat down. "Well... not on purpose. Indianna, this is Brandon—my cousin. Brandon, meet Indianna."

"Hi," Brandon said warmly. "Nice to meet you."

Indianna forced a small smile. "Hello."

"She's a little shy," Brooklyn added.

"Give it a few minutes with you and that'll change," Brandon joked, nudging her.

Indianna glanced at the clock.

Seven minutes had passed.

If the whole year dragged like this... she wasn't sure she'd survive it.

"Oh, great," Brooklyn muttered.

Indianna looked up as three boys walked into the room.

The shift in the atmosphere was immediate.

Brooklyn slouched in her seat, avoiding eye contact. Brandon's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists.

Two of the boys walked ahead—one ginger, laughing loudly, and another with brown hair and dimples.

But the third...

He stayed behind them.

Dark hair. Blank expression. Eyes like cold, endless pits.

Indianna's heart started racing.

She didn't even know him—but something about him felt wrong. Dangerous.

Tattoos covered his arms, and for a second, she forgot they were the same age. He carried himself differently—like he owned the room.

The other two seemed normal.

He didn't.

She looked away quickly when his gaze swept across the room.

Everyone was staring.

Not admiration.

Fear.

"What?" he snapped suddenly.

The single word cut through the silence like a blade.

The entire class immediately looked away.

Indianna felt chills run down her spine.

His voice was deep. Sharp. Controlled.

Not kind.

Never kind.

"Who are they?" Indianna whispered to Brooklyn once they sat across the room.

Brooklyn shifted, turning her back to them. "People you should stay away from."

She pointed subtly. "The ginger one is Kal. The brown-haired one is Ace. And the dark-haired one is—"

"Greyson Evans," Brandon cut in with a scowl. "Stay away from him."

"He's not a good person," Brooklyn added. "He doesn't care about anyone but himself and his friends. He's dangerous. The worst kind of trouble."

"I can hear you, Brooklyn," a slow, deep voice called out.

Greyson.

Brooklyn turned, forcing a sweet smile. "Just telling the truth."

"I'd love to hear more," Greyson said, raising an eyebrow.

"I doubt that."

"Brandon," Greyson added lazily, "if you keep glaring, I might punch you."

"Greyson!" Brooklyn snapped.

He smirked. "What? You know I don't care."

The tension snapped tight.

Then—just like that—he lost interest.

"As you can see," Brooklyn muttered, turning back, "he's an ass. Stay away from him."

Indianna hesitated. "Why don't you?"

Brooklyn blinked. "What?"

"Your boyfriend... he's their friend, right?"

"B-boyfriend? No!" Brooklyn stuttered.

"Harry, right?"

"Observant."

Indianna jumped.

Greyson was suddenly behind her.

Her voice died in her throat.

"Now," he said, slowly looking her up and down, "who are you?"

"I think it's better if you don't know," Brandon muttered.

Greyson ignored him.

"She can speak for herself."

"She's shy," Brooklyn said quickly.

"Come on," Greyson said, smirking. "I don't bite."

Indianna stiffened.

"Don't talk about that," she said, her voice quiet—but firm.

Greyson's smirk deepened.

"Struck a nerve?"

He leaned closer slightly.

"Somebody likes it rough."

"Jesus, Greyson!" Brooklyn snapped.

But he wasn't looking at her anymore.

He was staring at Indianna.

Studying her.

Like he already knew something.

"Indianna..." he murmured.

Then quieter—

"Hughs."

Her breath caught.

"What?"

He smirked. "So, she speaks."

"What did you say?"

"It was nice meeting you," he said slowly, dragging out her name before walking away.

But not before whispering something to his friends.

They all looked at her.

At her hand.

Her wrist.

The scar she was hiding.

Later, as the classroom noise faded into the background—

What happened to your wrist?

Indianna froze.

Her head snapped up.

The voice was clear.

Too clear.

Not outside.

Inside her head.