Chapter 1
Chapter 1 The Transfer Students.
Dreams were strange things.
Most mornings, Tessa Hart couldn't remember hers beyond scattered fragments—a familiar face without a name, voices that faded the moment she reached for them, places that seemed important until daylight stole every detail away.
She'd grown so used to forgetting that she rarely bothered trying to remember anymore.
This dream was different. It clung to her like damp clothes after a storm.
She stood alone on a stretch of black sand that seemed to go on forever.
The sea before her was unnaturally calm, so still that it resembled polished glass instead of water.
There were no stars above her, only a silver moon hanging impossibly low in the sky, large enough to swallow the horizon.
The air smelled of rain. Of salt. And of… something ancient.
Someone was standing in the water. Too far away to recognize. But close enough to make her heart pound.
The stranger didn't move. Neither did the waves. Time itself seemed to have frozen around them.
Then a voice drifted across the ocean. “You're late.”
It wasn't accusing.
If anything, it sounded... relieved.
As though someone had spent years waiting for her to arrive.
Tessa frowned. “Who are you?”
Her own voice vanished into the silence.
The figure slowly lifted a hand. The ocean answered.
Water rose without warning, climbing higher and higher until walls of sapphire surrounded her from every direction.
Beneath the surface, something vast shifted.
It wasn't a whale. Not anything she knew.
A single golden eye opened beneath the waves.
It was larger than a car.
It looked directly at her.
Run. The word exploded inside her head.
Run!
Tessa jerked upright so quickly that her blanket slid onto the floor.
Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths while the familiar walls of her bedroom slowly came into focus.
Gray ceiling. Peeling paint. And the tiny stars on the ceiling she'd insisted on sticking when she was ten.
Nothing unusual. Nothing impossible.
She swallowed hard before glancing at the digital clock beside her bed.
4:17 a.m.
Again. Every time.
For nearly a month, she'd been waking at exactly the same minute after dreaming about the ocean.
Coincidence. It had to be.
She pushed a hand through her messy chestnut hair and let out a long sigh.
“Congratulations,” she muttered to herself. “You've officially developed recurring nightmares.”
Humor usually helped. Today it didn't.
She could still feel those golden eyes watching her.
By the time seven o'clock arrived, the dream had faded just enough for reality to reclaim her attention.
But reality wasn't much kinder.
The kitchen was quiet except for the rhythmic tapping of rain against the windows.
Her father was already halfway through reading the morning paper while balancing a mug of coffee in one hand.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
“Mmm.”
He smiled over the edge of his mug. “That's not a word.”
“It is before eight.”
He laughed softly.
Living with her father had always been... easy. Simple.
Her mother had died when Tessa was five. She barely remembered anything except warm laughter and the smell of lavender perfume.
Her father never pushed those memories away, but neither of them spoke about them often. Some silences became habits over the years.
“You nervous?” he asked.
“It's the first day back, Dad. I'm contractually obligated to be miserable.”
“Fair point.”
He slid a plate of toast toward her. She stared at it for a moment.
Her appetite had disappeared somewhere between the nightmare and waking up.
“I'm not hungry.”
“You've said that every morning this week.”
“I'll grab something later.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he knew better. Nothing would come out of it. “Don't skip lunch.”
“I'll try.” It wasn't exactly a promise.
*****
Newton Ridge High looked exactly the way she'd remembered.
Too loud. Too crowded.
Too full of people who had somehow returned from summer vacation even more interested in everyone else's business.
Students poured through the front entrance while conversations bounced across the courtyard.
Someone was already blasting music from a portable speaker.
Someone else nearly ran into the principal while chasing a football.
Normal. Almost comforting.
Until Tessa reached her locker. “...You've got to be kidding me.”
Her key wouldn't go in.
She tried again. Nothing.
Then she noticed tiny pink glitter clinging to the edges of the lock.
Glue. Someone had glued it shut.
She closed her eyes. Count to three.
Don't scream.
One… Two… Three… Nope. Still wanted to scream.
A burst of laughter echoed behind her.
She didn't need to turn around. Veronica Brooks.
If popularity had a face, it would probably borrow Veronica's. Blonde hair that never seemed out of place. Perfect makeup despite it being barely eight in the morning. Designer shoes that somehow stayed spotless even on rainy days.
She was surrounded by the same group she always was. Lena. Brooke. Cassidy.
Girls who laughed a little too loudly whenever Veronica made a joke.
“Aw,” Veronica called sweetly. “Looks like someone's having a rough morning.”
Tessa forced herself to smile. “I'd ask if you knew anything about this, but subtlety has never really been your thing.”
Several nearby students snorted.
Veronica's smile stiffened for the briefest second. “Still blaming other people for your problems?”
“No,” Tessa replied lightly. “Just the ones who actually cause them.”
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then Veronica shrugged. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
If only she knew.
Tessa watched the girls disappear down the hallway before releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Sometimes she wondered why Veronica hated her so much.
She'd stopped asking years ago.
Some people simply decided they didn't like someone and never looked back.
She was just lucky enough to become the chosen target.
“Your locker again?” The familiar voice instantly eased some of the tension sitting on her shoulders.
Nora Bennett leaned against the neighboring locker with her usual relaxed smile.
Unlike Veronica, Nora had never cared about popularity.
She preferred books over gossip, hoodies over fashion trends, and honest conversations over pretending to like people.
She was also the closest thing Tessa had to family outside home.
“I think they're getting more creative,” Nora said after examining the glitter.
“I miss when they just called me weird.”
“Give it another week.” She patted her shoulders.
Despite exhausted, Tessa laughed. “I shouldn't laugh.”
“No.”
“I definitely shouldn't.”
“Nope.”
“...They're still idiots though.”
“The biggest.”
The laughter faded almost as quickly as it had appeared.
Nora studied her friend's face. “You okay?”
Tessa hesitated. She almost mentioned the dream. Instead she shrugged. “Didn't sleep much.”
“The ocean nightmare again?”
Tessa blinked. “You remembered?”
“You've mentioned it four times this month.”
“I have?”
“You always forget.”
That made her stomach twist. Had she really?
Maybe the dreams were bothering her more than she'd admitted.
Before she could answer, the warning bell echoed through the hallway.
“Come on,” Nora nudged her shoulder. “History waits for no one.”
Mrs. Monroe was already writing the day's lesson across the whiteboard by the time they entered.
History had never been Tessa's favorite subject, but she liked Mrs. Monroe.
The woman had a dry sense of humor and expected students to think instead of memorizing.
Unfortunately, she also noticed everything. “Miss Hart.” Tessa froze. “Late.”
“My locker—”
“I know.” Mrs. Monroe adjusted her glasses. “It seems to suffer unusually bad luck.”
“You could call it that.”
A faint smile tugged at the teacher's lips before she gestured toward the empty desks. “Take your seat.”
The class settled. Books opened. Pens clicked.
Everything felt wonderfully ordinary. Then someone knocked on the classroom door.
Mrs. Monroe glanced up. “Perfect timing.”
She stepped aside as two unfamiliar students entered.
The room immediately fell quiet.
The first boy was tall, with dark hair that brushed his forehead and calm gray eyes that seemed strangely older than the rest of him. He carried himself with effortless confidence, though there wasn't an ounce of arrogance in his posture.
The second stood half a step behind him. Slightly shorter, curly brown hair escaping beneath a knitted beanie, freckles scattered across his nose, and an easy smile that immediately made him seem approachable.
Mrs. Monroe cleared her throat.
“Class, these are our new transfer students.”
The freckled boy smiled first. “I'm Finn Carter.”
The darker-haired boy gave a simple nod. “Rowan Ash.”
Whispers spread through the room. New students always attracted attention. Especially attractive ones.
Tessa barely looked at them.
Transfers came every year. They'd make friends. They'd graduate.
Life would move on.
Except… A strange feeling prickled across the back of her neck.
She looked up.
Rowan was already looking at her. Not casually. Not with curiosity. He looked at her as if he knew her.
As though he'd finally found something he'd been searching for.
The feeling lasted only a second before he looked away.
Weird. Really weird.
Mrs. Monroe scanned the classroom. “Mr. Ash, you'll take the empty seat beside Tessa.”
The whispers became louder.
Tessa nearly groaned. Of course.
Because apparently the universe wasn't finished embarrassing her today.
Rowan crossed the room with quiet, measured steps before stopping beside her desk. “May I?”
She gestured toward the chair. “It's not like I own it.”
A corner of his mouth lifted.
The smile was brief enough that she almost imagined it.
“Thank you.” He sat.
For several minutes neither of them spoke.
Then, without looking at her, Rowan quietly asked, “Do you always argue with bullies?”
Tessa blinked. “...Only on weekdays.”
For the first time, genuine amusement flickered across his face.
It vanished almost immediately.
But she caught it. And somehow… For reasons she couldn't explain… It felt as though meeting him wasn't an accident.