There was something different about the new kid. Or maybe I just didn’t want to accept that he blew me off so easily. Lunch may have been in full swing, with half the student body shoved into the cafeteria practically screaming over each other in an attempt to string together a conversation, but somehow Theo Jones had managed to snag an empty table–where he sat by himself. 

The weirdest part was he didn’t even look sad about it. 

In fact, I was pretty sure I caught him growling at anyone who tried to make his acquaintance. 

“Yo, Jace, watch out!” 

Without much thought, I raised my hand just in time to catch the ball that was hurtling toward me at an unnatural speed. Whoever had sent it flying had definitely thrown it hard–and definitely missed their target. A pair of twins came bounding toward my already overcrowded table, their strawberry blonde hair bouncing in unison. We called them Croc and Alli, but those were not their names. 

“Sorry, man, didn’t mean to throw it that far!” Croc held out his dry, scaly hand for the ball. A responsible honor student would not have returned it. 

But that wasn’t really my problem. 

I shrugged, handing the rough red clump of rubber over without much thought. “Don’t let the yard duty see you throwing that around. If you two miss another practice because of detention, Coach Widdow will be pissed.” 

Alli waved a dismissive hand and rolled his bulging eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Leave it to the Captain to remind us of our shortcomings.” It was a joke, but something about it rubbed me the wrong way. 

“You know that’s not what I mean.” 

The twins gave a little perfectly-timed shrug, and Croc threw his arm around his brother. “You can count on us, Captain Jace Sir!” He held up his free hand in a salute, but it was lopsided and the ball he was holding covered half of his face. It was a weird and sloppily executed gesture. 

Still, I laughed, because that was the response they wanted. “Alright, alright, enough with the Sir talk. I get it.” 

A chill touched the base of my spine, crawling up my back and washing over my head like a wave. A taste like spoiled milk settled on my tongue as a ghostly whisper, almost too soft to notice, rushed past my ear.

Jace… Douglass... 

I knew who it was, and I knew what it meant, and instantly my mood soured. The rushing noise of the bustling cafeteria fell away, and I stuffed my sandwich back into its little baggy as I tucked my things back into my backpack. 

Croc raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright, Captain?” 

“Yup,” I quickly lied, “just remembered I was supposed to meet my APUSH teacher for something.” 

Another one of my teammates, Jackson, rolled his eyes. “Captain of the football team, debate leader, honor student–is there anything you can't do?”

“Say no,” I grumbled. 

Jackson tilted his head, eyebrow raised. “What? I couldn't hear you over the everything.” 

“Nothing. I'll see you all at practice!” I didn't wait to hear whatever they were going to say next–because if there was one thing I knew about her, it was that she didn't like being kept waiting. 

I walked briskly through the stream of students, aiming for one of the more remote bathrooms on campus. It was out by the G building–which was old and rarely used anymore, since they replaced it with the newer and much more high-tech R building. I slammed the door open, which prompted the two boys inside to snap their attention to me. They looked like drama kids–which would make sense because the theater was nearby. “Out.” 

Popularity had its perks, because all it took was that one word to send them running. I tried not to think about what that meant–I hated the idea that people were afraid of me for any reason–but I needed privacy. The disgusting floors of the forgotten bathroom squished beneath my Nikes as I walked to the far end of the bathroom and crossed my arms over my chest. “You better make this quick.” 

“Now, now, is that any way to speak to your superior, Jace Douglass?” Her voice was low and sultry, and it had a taunting edge to it that I didn't enjoy. 

I turned to the mirror to my right, shooting her a glare that I know didn't phase her in the slightest. But the important thing was I tried. “As far as I'm concerned, you're the one breaking our deal. Don't bother me when I'm at school, remember? This better be important.” 

She laughed, her reflection bouncing in the mirror. Her long, dark hair obscured the rest of her body–not that I would be able to see much, given the hoops we had to jump through just to speak. 

After all, what reason would a Goddess have for leaving the realm of the Divine? Much less the Goddess of Death. I was nothing but a pawn to her–not worth making the trek down to Earth. “I think you’re forgetting who the boss is in our little arrangement. Do you need reminding?” 

A spark flickered through her deep gold eyes–a bright flash of red, circling her pupils like a firefly zipping across the riverbank. A shiver ran down my spine, and a deep chill snapped in the air between us. I huffed, desperately trying to regain my composure. “I don’t need reminding. Just… tell me who the mark is.” 

“That’s better.” Her reflection swirled in the mirror, disappearing in a wave of black sludge, and reappearing one mirror over to the right. She lifted a long, slender arm, bathed in the color of night, and pointed an inky finger at the mirror to her left. The mirror trembled, nearly cracking under the pressure, before its surface was overtaken by a black hue dotted by stars. It was like looking into a telescope, or a portal to the night sky.

“The mark was once known as Collin Fern.” She waved her hand, and the stars collected into the vague form of a man. The colors were dampened, washed out by the limitations of this method of speaking, but I could just barely make out a mop of red curls, a few dotted freckles, and wild green eyes. He looked like he was in his 40s–too young to have had his life cut short. 

But my services wouldn’t be needed if that precious life hadn’t been snuffed out. 

“Okay. And this is urgent enough to interrupt my lunch because…?” I knew she didn’t like it when I spoke to her that way, but she made no indication that my snippiness bothered her. Maybe it was a sign that I was getting braver, when it came to her. 

Or maybe it was just a sign of my profound stupidity. 

“Somehow, he’s managed to slip under our radar. By the time my reapers tracked him down, he had already mutated, and his power overtook them. Now he’s on his way to the school–I’m presuming because his unfinished business lies there. I don’t need to remind you what could happen if an invisible monster capable of warping reality itself managed to crash into a whole campus of unsuspecting mortals, do I?” 

I flinched, violent memories flashing through my mind, moving like storm clouds behind my eyes. My jaw tensed. “No.” 

“Good. Then we’re in agreement–we must handle this matter swiftly and silently, before Collin has a chance to hurt anyone.” She waved her hand, and his faded, cracked form in the mirror dispersed into a thousand distant stars. 

“Okay, great, but that’s not exactly enough for me to go on. Do we know what kind of creature he’s morphed into? I need to have some kind of clue as to what I’m dealing with, here.” 

Death opened her mouth to respond, but cut herself off before speaking. Her head snapped to the right, as if she could hear something coming, and she suddenly vanished, drawing my attention away from her. 

A flash of light disrupted my vision, the violent rays of the sun temporarily blinding me as someone opened the door to the bathroom. My whole body tensed in response, getting ready to spring into action. Could it be Collin, already? Ripping the walls from the bathroom, ready to tear the school down at any moment?

Instead of finding a horrible monster, my eyes finally focused to find the new kid–just staring at me. He paused in the doorway, his bottom lip pinned between his teeth, a single eyebrow raised. 

And it dawned on me how absolutely idiotic I looked, standing in an abandoned bathroom, my fists raised for a fight, talking to myself in an empty mirror. I hastily cleared my throat, ran my fingers through my hair to hide their trembling, and searched my brain for an excuse that would make… any of this less weird. “Sorry, man… Thought you were a teacher.” 

“So you… readied yourself for a fight?” Theo bit down on his lip harder, trying and failing to suppress a laugh. 

“Well, I’m not exactly looking to get suspended! There’s a big game coming up, and they’d get mad if they caught me… caught me, um…” 

Theo shrugged, not even waiting for the rest of the sentence. Which was good, because I didn’t know where it was going. “Whatever, dude, I really don’t care.” He pushed past me, shoes squishing on the antique bathroom floor, and slipped into one of the many vacant stalls. Why, I couldn’t be sure, there were plenty of free urinals. 

It must have been a miracle–that I had made it out of that interaction without raising too much suspicion. I let out a heavy, shaky sigh, and snagged my bag from the floor. I had to pull myself together. 

After all, there were much bigger things to worry about than Theo Jones.