Lunch bled out slowly, the buzz of the cafeteria fading into the kind of idle chatter that signaled the last few minutes of freedom before the bell cracked down. Trays clattered. Plastic forks were resigned to their fate. Students began standing, stretching, exchanging lazy gossip and leftover chips like bored diplomats.
Sebasitan didn't move.
He didn't have to. Alice hadn't moved either.
Their hands parted, but something hadn't. That unseen thread still hummed in the space between the, low, warm, constant. He didn't even know what class he had next, and for once, that wasn't a priority.
He glanced at her again. She was pretending to rearrange something on her tray, but he could see it, the way her hand hovered, not really touching, not really focused. Like she was listening to a song that hadn't started yet.
"You're stalling;" she said, not looking up.
"So are you," he replied.
Alice's eyes flickered up, and they held a shared smirk like a secret handshake. Across the table, Emmett leaned in.
"You two gonna keep speaking in riddles, or can I go back to emotionally bully Jasper into arm wrestling me during bio?"
Jasper didn't even look up. "Not happening."
"Coward."
Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Please don't start another gym accident. Coach Willard still thinks the bleachers folded themselves."
"Technically," Sebastian offered, "they did. But I'm not legally allowed to give a demonstration. Something about structural liability a traumatized P.E. teachers."
Alice grinned, and for a second, she looked like she wanted to laugh out loud, but didn't. Instead, she just slid to her feet, graceful in a way that defied effort.
"Come on," she said. "What class do you have next?"
Sebastian checked his schedule, which he had folded and partially crumpled in his pocket like a nopkind from a chaotic brunch. "History. Room 203."
Alice nodded like that confirmed something. "We're heading the same direction."
She didn't offer to walk with him.
She just started walking.
And he followed.
The hallways were their own kind of beast. Students moved in vague herds, breaking off into locker clusters and dramatic over-gestured stories about missed quizzes and Mr. Avery's mysterious coffee breath. Everything smelled like wet paper, floor wax, and teen spirit.
But besides Alice, Sebastian felt strange calm settle over him, like moving through static and knowing exactly which dial would tune it all to clarity.
She didn't talk much. Neither did he.
But the silence wasn't awkward. It was… infrastructure. Like beams between them had already been poured, and words were more like decor than necessity.
They reached the split in the hallway where the crowd thinned.
Alice stopped, her head tilting slightly toward him. "203's down there. Second door on the right. If the teacher's in a mood, pretend you got lost near the science wing."
Sebastian raised a brow. "You know my schedule?"
She shrugged innocently. "It's not hard to find. You left it on the lunch table."
He smirked. "So you chose not to correct me."
"Call it an experiment."
He nodded slowly. "And what's the hypothesis?"
Alice leaned in, close enough for her voice to drop just a little. "That you'd follow."
Then she walked away.
Sebastian watched her go, not in some gawking, lovesick way, but like someone witnessing a comet pass and already doing the math on when it might return.
Behind him, someone cleared their throat.
He turned to find a tall boy with shaggy dark hair and the kind of sleepy expression that screamed "permanently operating on four hours of rest and existential dread." The guy looked familiar. Emmett had mentioned him earlier.
"Sebastian, right?" the boy asked.
Sebastian nodded. "Unless you're from the IRS, in which case, my name is Chad and I work in accounting."
The boy cracked a smile. "Nice. I'm Emmett's friend. Emmett-emmett, not the guy that works at GameStop."
"Good clarification;" Sebastian replied. "I assumed from the non-demonic aura."
"I'm Seth," the guy said simply, adjusting his backpack. "You look like you're not entirely sure where you're going."
"That's because I'm not entirely sure if this school even follows the laws of physics."
Seth grinned. "Come on. I'll walk you. History's better when someone can whisper dumb facts under their breath to keep you from melting into the carpet."
Sebastian raised a brow, genuinely amused. "That was oddly specific. Have you… melted before?"
"Emotionally. Twice last semester. It's a long story."
"I like long stories," Sebastian said, falling into step beside him. "But only if they come with visual aids and a tragic subplot."
"Oh, I've got tragic subplots. You ever try being the only guy in your fired group who still does his homework?"
Sebastian laughed, and they slipped into the flow of hallway traffic together like they'd been doing it for weeks.
As they neared Room 203, he glanced back once, just for a second.
Alice was gone. Around a corner. Out of sight.
But the pull was still there.
Not like a hook.
Not like a leash.
Like a compass. Subtle. Relentless.
And for the first time in a long time, Sebastian didn't feel like he was wandering. He felt like he was walking a path that had already started before he arrived, one only he could finish.
END OF CHAPTER 14