Chapter 2 The dead zone

BRISELLE’S POV.

I burst out of the Senior Wing, gulping the bright air like it could wash the panic off me, and clear the sudden, cold sweat from my skin. I didn’t stop running until I reached the familiar chaotic environment of the main student quad.

I spotted Jenna sitting on our usual bench, precisely where I had told her I would be if I survived. She was small and neat, wearing a pale lavender cardigan, and she was already looking anxious. Her personality was the antidote to mine…gentle, quietly supportive, and utterly incapable of sarcasm. She was the one who kept my cynical, overthinking brain anchored in reality.

I dropped onto the bench next to her, breathing hard, my backpack hitting the ground with a thump.

“Elle! You look like you just wrestled a bear,” Jenna said immediately, her brow furrowed with concern. She gently smoothed a section of my ridiculously large sleeve.

“I got caught,” I gasped, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees. The words were a bitter confession of failure.

Jenna’s eyes widened, her face instantly went pale. “The professor? Did Albright see you? What did he say? Are you suspended?”

“No, no, not Albright,” I said, shaking my head violently. “Worse. Much, much worse. It was a student. A random guy sitting next to the empty seat I chose.”

Jenna let out a small, shaky breath of relief, though her expression remained worried. “A student? How would a student even know? Maybe he just recognized you from the dorms?”

“No. He didn't just recognize me,” I explained, the memory of his low voice sending a fresh shiver down my spine. “He knew I was filling in for Veronica. He even mentioned her by name. And the glasses. He knew the glasses weren't hers.”

I recounted the terrifying few minutes…the frozen silence, the accidental proximity, the way the whole class stared, and his final, loaded warning.

“He just…let you go? He didn’t say anything to the professor?” Jenna whispered, clearly bewildered.

“That’s the part that’s scary. He had all the power, and he chose to use it to mess with my head. I didn’t even get a chance to sign the sheet, Jenna. I was too freaked out. Veronica is going to kill me.” I rubbed my throbbing temples. “The space next to him is called ‘the dead zone.’ What kind of person sits in a self-declared dead zone?” 

Jenna’s face twisted. “The dead zone? Wait—you sat there? Elle…that’s him.”

I frowned. “Him who?”

She hesitated, glancing around like someone might overhear us. “I’ve heard countless things about this ‘dead zone’ guy. He’s…well, technically, he’s not even supposed to be in that class anymore. He failed the seminar last semester.”

I blinked. “So what’s he doing there?”

“No one knows,” Jenna said in a whisper. “But people talk. Professors don’t tell him to leave, seniors don’t sit near him, and every semester, someone ends up regretting getting too close.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I scoffed, though my stomach sank. “He’s not some curse, Jen. He’s just a guy who’s too full of himself to sit anywhere else.”

“Maybe,” she said quietly, “but remember how I told you about that senior who failed the seminar after arguing with Albright last year?”

“Yeah. The one who transferred?”

Jenna nodded slowly. “He sat in this dead zone three days before that.”

For a second, the background noise of the quad faded. Like the world had paused just to let that sink in.

I tried to shake it off, forcing a laugh that sounded nothing like humor. “Urban legend. Every school has one.”

“Yeah.” Jenna tugged her cardigan sleeve nervously. “You survived, you’re safe, and you’ll just have to go back tomorrow and sign twice. But…promise me you won’t sit there again. Dead Zone or not, he’s not the kind of guy you want noticing you.”

“I can’t go back, Jenna,” I insisted, looking her in the eye. “Not after that. I don't know who he is, and you’re not helping. He recognized me immediately, and I have to assume he’ll be watching. If I walk back into that room, he’ll expose me.”

“Well, you have to tell that to Veronica then. You can’t just walk back into the lion’s den blind,” Jenna reasoned.

“I just wish I knew his name,” I mumbled, finally looking up.

Jenna nodded grimly, accepting my refusal. “I know, Elle. But right now, you need to go talk to Veronica and figure out what to do about that attendance sheet. You can’t just skip tomorrow.”

I stood up, pulling my backpack tight onto my shoulders. The problem was no longer an external threat, it was the explosion waiting for me in the dorm room. I was trapped between an unknown, terrifying senior and my merciless older sister.

“I’m going back to the dorms,” I told Jenna, squaring my shoulders. “But I’m not going back to that seminar. I have to make Veronica understand I can’t risk it.”

*** 

“What is wrong with you?! How can you be so careless?” Veronica’s voice sliced through the small dorm room air incredulously. She held the attendance sheet, crinkled and tragically blank on her signature line, between two manicured fingers.

I stood by the door, still reeling from the strange, silent tension of the Senior Seminar. 

“I was careless?” I finally snapped, the question filled with years of suppressed resentment. “I committed academic fraud for you, and I almost got caught by someone who actually noticed I wasn't you! Maybe if you weren’t so careless about your own classes, I wouldn’t have to risk my freshman year for your afternoon with Chuck!”

Veronica’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Don’t use his name like that, Briselle. This is a simple task you couldn’t manage. All you had to do was scribble my name and leave. You’re supposed to be the smart one, yet you messed up the easiest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.”

“It’s not my fault you prioritize your dating life over graduation!” The words exploded out of me, fueled by fear, anxiety, and the humiliating memory of her classmates gaze. “You treat me like your maid, Veronica, your emotional shield, your personal liar, and now your goddamn academic stand-in! I am not a tool for your convenience!”

“Shut up,” she hissed, taking a sudden, menacing step toward me.

I stood my ground, my hands curled into fists inside my sweater sleeves. “No. I won’t. You know your GPA is already on thin ice, and if Mom and Dad knew about Chuck and how often you ditch…or that you need me to forge signatures, they’d cut you off in a second. You’re the careless one!”

It was the mention of our parents and her precarious academic standing that finally snapped her control. Her face twisted into a mask of pure, reactive fury. Before I could flinch, her hand swung out. The sound of her palm connecting with my cheek was a sharp, shocking crack in the quiet room.

Shock rippled through me, but I didn’t cry. The immediate sting was replaced by a cold, hard resolve. I stared at her, the shock in my own eyes quickly turning to absolute disgust.

“You’re pathetic,” I whispered, not bothering to touch my face. I snatched my wallet and keys off the desk. “I’m out.”

I stormed out of the dorm, the slam of the door loud enough to rattle the walls. My first instinct was to run until I couldn't think anymore. The second was to call my anchor.

“Jenna,” I said into the phone, my voice tight and trembling with suppressed rage. “I need you. Now. Meet me at The Blind Tiger.”

“Elle! What happened? Are you okay? Did Veronica—”

“I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. Just please, meet me there. I need out.”

Jenna, my quiet, kind friend who viewed bars like dens of dread didn't argue. “I’m on my way.”