𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐆𝐎 || 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐗 𝐎𝐂

part two

Moe's Bar & Grill

Finn leaned back in his creaky desk chair, the fluorescent lights above humming softly as the last of the students filed out of his room. The final bell had rung twenty minutes ago, but he was still riding the wave of first-day energy—a blend of adrenaline, relief, and just enough confusion to keep him second-guessing every lesson plan.

His body felt wired, not from coffee or nerves, but from everything. The adrenaline of meeting dozens of new faces. The relief of getting through the day without catastrophe. The dull ache behind his eyes from smiling too long, too hard, trying to make a good impression.

He exhaled slowly, letting his shoulders fall.

Not bad, he told himself.
No one cried.
No one set anything on fire.
Only one student asked if he was related to the guy from Dune.

Finn glanced toward the window, where the late afternoon sun was beginning to dip behind the football field, the sky streaked in shades of peach and lavender. The world was quiet now—the kind of quiet that made him almost want to stay.

Almost.

A knock at his open door broke the spell.

"Wolfhard!" came a cheerful voice. Finn looked up to see a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, thick glasses, and the energy of someone who'd had one too many espressos. "Heard you survived your first day. We're hitting Moe's after school. You in?"

Behind him stood two more teachers: a petite woman with a messy bun and a giant iced coffee (Sadie, social studies), and a stocky guy in a football polo (Coach Taylor). All smiling. All clearly part of the school's social orbit.

Finn blinked. "Moe's?"

"It's a bar," the woman said. "Divey. Cheap nachos. Surprisingly good margaritas."

"Thursday tradition," Coach added. "To welcome the new blood."

Finn hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't want to go. It was just—new places, new people, new expectations. And his mind was still tangled up with that strange feeling from earlier. With Sonny.

He opened his mouth to politely decline when—like clockwork—her voice floated down the hallway behind the group.

"Are we recruiting him or kidnapping him?"

Sonny's hair had come loose in the humidity, soft curls falling around her face. A pen was tucked behind her ear. Her tote bag hung low on one shoulder, filled with what looked like lab manuals and sunflower-patterned sticky notes.

And she was smiling at him.

The others parted slightly to let her in.

"We're trying," the man with the glasses said. "But he's doing that brooding outsider thing."

Sonny looked at Finn and tilted her head. "You don't strike me as the type to turn down nachos."

He should've said no. He was tired. Still unpacked. He had papers to look at, probably.

But Sonny was going.

And when she looked at him like that—half challenge, half invitation—he didn't want to be anywhere else.

Finn stood up, grabbing his satchel.

"You talked me into it."

Sonny grinned.

As the group made their way down the hall, Finn found himself falling in step beside her. The others chatted ahead, already comparing horror stories from the day, but for a moment, it was just the two of them.