Mel’s voice, close now. Her face hovering in Riya’s periphery.
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay? You look... sick.”
“I’m fine,” Riya said—too fast. She summoned a smile, but it didn’t catch. “Tell me what you and Andrew have been talking about.”
Anything to drown out the noise in her head.
She looked down. The apple was still there. Untouched. Waiting. Too red. Too perfect. Like an invitation.
Or a warning.
She picked it up. Turned it once in her hand.
Then took a bite.
When the final bell rang, Riya found herself drifting toward the library more out of habit than any real need. She was too restless for the bus, too wired to go home.
Less than a week until the next full moon. Before Kian forgot everything.
Unless she did the unthinkable.
“Oh, Riya!” Ms. Calloway smiled from the front desk. “Is Kian with you?”
“No, not today,” Riya said, frowning.
Time was slipping away, and yet, ever since Kian had told her about his past, he’d been... less present in her life. No texts. No hovering close behind her all school day. The only sign of his existence had been a small, foldable umbrella, bright yellow, tied to her locker, with a note:For a supernova of a girl. Stay dry today.
She should’ve been relieved. The newfound space should have helped her think. Instead, it felt like the calm beforethe storm. Because if he wasn’t hovering around her as usual, then where was all that energy—the curse, the obsession—going?
“He left this behind,” Ms. Calloway said, pulling a familiar green notebook from beneath the desk.
Riya recognized it immediately. The lyric book. The one he always had on him.
“I can drop it off,” she offered, a little too fast.
She’d use it to confirm he was okay, to make sure he hadn’t done anything reckless.
Yes. She was simply beingpragmatic.
“Would you? That’d be such a relief.” Ms. Calloway smiled. “Thanks for being so on top of things, Riya.”
The walk to Kian’s house was longer than Riya remembered, the ground slick with rain, squelching beneath her every step. The yellow umbrella kept her dry, and she kept the notebook tucked securely under her arm.
The temptation to open it tugged at her. What would be in there? Song lyrics, his thoughts, dreams—like he’d said?
Something about her?
She shouldn’t care. He wasn’t himself. These thoughts wouldn’t reflect the full truth. But that didn’t stop her from wondering. Because even if the curse erased everything, the notebook wouldn’t.
Maybe she just wanted to see what might be left behind. Except—her hands wouldn’t obey. Because if there was something about her in those pages—some trace of feeling, real or not—she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
And if there wasn’t?
That was... almost worse.
By the time she reached Kian’s house, the sun was dipping low in the sky, casting a fiery glow over the neighborhood. The burgundy front door with its bronze number5seemed to pulse under the warm light, like the beating of a slow, steady heart.
