Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 44

Only something else.

A flicker in the corner of my vision, near the entrance, just by the glass panels. Olive. Or maybe her ghost.

She was staring. Not watching. Not glancing. Staring. Like a predator stares at something it’s already devoured. A tight smile curved on her lips, like she knew something I didn’t. Like she’d already won a game I didn’t even know I was playing. And when I blinked, gone. The crowd swallowed the space she’d stood in. Just noise and chatter and the distant clink of metal trays. But the air was colder now. My skin prickled. The hairs on my arms stood as if touched by static. I clutched the edge of the table. My bracelet pressed into my skin again, sharp.
Something was happening. Something underneath. Beneath the skin of this day. Beneath the surface of what I knew.

A rupture waiting to be named.

That afternoon, I slipped into an empty corridor before the bell rang, the walls dim with the slanting sun. I dialed his number again.

One ring. Two. Three.

"Come on, James. Pick up."

I pressed the phone tighter against my ear like that could make the silence break. But it only rang… and rang… and rang.

No voicemail. No click. No voice. Just distance. It was the kind of silence that didn’t just happen. It was chosen. Crafted. Built by someone who didn’t want to be found. I stared at the screen as the call finally cut. A dull gray emptiness replaced his name. I used to love the way it glowed when his face lit up the screen. Now it just felt like static. A name too heavy to carry. A wind blew outside through the stairwell windows, rustling the flag above the campus entrance. My heart kept pace with it, restless. Suspicious. It beat with the rhythm of something not right.

I exhaled and pocketed my phone. There wasn’t time to cry. Not yet. Not until I had answers. For now… we still had a prom to finish.

I headed toward the auditorium, the distant voices of Inez and Corey echoing through the hallway. Paint cans. Hanging lights. Final touches. The world hadn’t stopped.

But I had. Somewhere inside, a part of me had frozen, waiting for him to call back. To explain. To make the air feel breathable again. Because something told me, whatever was coming next would hurt.

The auditorium smelled like fresh paint and rubber. Streamers curled in glittering waves from the ceiling. A few ladders still leaned against the wall. The air buzzed with the low hum of teamwork, Corey folding napkins into roses, Inez trying to untangle a spool of fairy lights. I sat cross-legged on the stage floor across from Matt, a pile of pastel balloons between us. We’d been pumping them for the past twenty minutes, plastic squeaking with each motion. My fingers felt sore, my mind miles away, but at least my hands had something to do.

“Do you think we’re breaking child labor laws yet?” Matt asked, pumping air into another balloon with exaggerated effort.

I snorted, the first real laugh I’d let out all day. “Only if we start charging admission.”

He smiled. “Ah. Good. Then we can afford better snacks. No offense to Corey’s cheese curls.”

Corey, from the corner, held up a bag. “Rude. These are gourmet.”

Inez rolled her eyes from a distance, but I could see her lips twitching with amusement.

Matt tied off his balloon and let it drop with a soft bounce onto the growing mountain between us. “Hey, I heard they’re adding strobe lights.”

“Oh God, why? Are we trying to summon a demon?” I said, grinning.

“Maybe. Or at least give everyone a seizure during slow dance.”