The morning air had that faint bite of fall, the kind that made every sound sharper. My Keen hiking boots crunched over the brittle leaves scattered across the front walk as we cut through the school\u2019s main doors. Gabriel was next to me, his hoodie hood half-up, earbuds slung around his neck instead of in his ears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Already I could see it \u2014 the way he carried himself now. Head a little higher. Steps more even. Not trying to shrink himself into the crowd anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We were halfway down the hall when one of the usual suspects \u2014 Brent, a linebacker with too much neck and not enough brains \u2014 made a lazy attempt to shoulder into Gabriel. It was the kind of half-assed \u201caccident\u201d that\u2019s supposed to knock you off balance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel didn\u2019t flinch. Didn\u2019t even slow down. He pivoted just enough that Brent\u2019s shoulder met solid resistance and actually bounced. The thump of contact echoed, and a couple of nearby kids looked up in surprise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWatch it,\u201d Gabriel said \u2014 calm, but in a way that carried weight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Brent sneered, muttered something about \u201cfresh meat,\u201d but he kept walking. Gabriel didn\u2019t even look back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou enjoyed that,\u201d I murmured.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth. \u201cMaybe a little.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By third period, the shift was obvious. In class, he actually spoke up twice when called on. At lunch, he sat straighter, didn\u2019t keep his eyes locked on the table like before. I stayed a few tables away \u2014 close enough to watch, far enough not to crowd him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019s when it happened. Another one \u2014 Chad, smaller than Brent but meaner \u2014 drifted up behind him with a carton of chocolate milk in hand, aiming for the classic \u201coops, spilled\u201d routine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I moved without thinking. One moment I was halfway through a bite of sandwich, the next my hand shot out and caught Chad\u2019s wrist mid-swing. The carton never tipped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCareful,\u201d I said, voice low enough that only he heard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Something in my grip made his whole arm go still \u2014 maybe the pressure, maybe the way I was looking at him. He swallowed hard and backed away without a word.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel caught my eye as Chad slunk off. I didn\u2019t smile, but I dipped my head once, slow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The rest of the day passed without incident until the final bell. We cut out toward the student lot, where a knot of kids were clustered near the steps. Gabriel was mid-sentence when it happened \u2014 a sharp metallic crash from the far end of the lot, like a dropped toolbox.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The sound hit me differently. My ears picked it apart instantly \u2014 metal on asphalt, distance, weight. I froze for half a second, head tilted just slightly, ears (the ones no one could see) tracking the echo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When I glanced back, Gabriel was staring at me. Not just looking \u2014 seeing<\/em>. He\u2019d noticed the way my head moved, the way my whole body oriented toward the sound before anyone else had even turned their heads.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat?\u201d I asked, playing it flat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He shook his head, but there was that grin again \u2014 slow, knowing. \u201cNothing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n We walked the rest of the way in silence, the kind that wasn\u2019t empty at all.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The morning air had that faint bite of fall, the kind that made every sound sharper. My Keen hiking boots crunched over the brittle leaves scattered across the front walk as we cut through the school\u2019s main doors. Gabriel was next to me, his hoodie hood half-up, earbuds slung around his neck instead of in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-63","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-high-school-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/63","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=63"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/63\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":64,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/63\/revisions\/64"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=63"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=63"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=63"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}