We drove through the town, the streets crowded with people rushing around, their curiosity piqued by the commotion we'd left behind.
We couldn't see the full extent of the ss we'd caused, but from the looks on people's faces and the hushed whispers we overheard, it was clear sothing big had happened.
In the back of our worn-out Grand Marquis, Malachi continued to grumble, not hiding his disappointnt with the car. He imagined sothing more luxurious, like a Bugatti or Lamborghini, a ride that would reflect his grandiose self-image.
"Hey, can we hurry up with this?" Nikki cut in, trying to change the subject. "We're just sitting here in this old clunker, might as well park and figure things out before we call Mr. Drails."
"And I'm starving," Malachi added, his timing as impeccable as ever. "We're not making it through the night without food."
"Well, unless you're secretly a vampire, I think most of us still need to eat," Nikki shot back.
As we drove, a diner appeared in the distance, its neon sign lighting up the night like a beacon. Our stomachs growled in unison at the sight of it.
"Let's stop here," Malachi said, steering into the parking lot. "Who knows when we'll find food again."
We parked and got out, relieved there were no curious bystanders around. I didn't need more attention right now. An hour ago, we had our mont of fa, and the last thing I wanted was to be under the microscope again.
The diner's door opened, and we all stepped inside. September, as always, took charge of ordering for the group. I, on the other hand, stuck to my usual thod: picking the cheapest option. My mom's frugality was deeply ingrained in .
I slid into a booth next to Tisiah, but Nikki quickly claid the spot next to . "I'm so used to sitting across from you," she said with a casual smile.
I didn't think much of it. We all sat in silence, awkwardly navigating the discomfort between us. Finally, Nikki broke the tension with the question I knew was coming.
"Connor?"
"Yeah?"
"How could you do that?" Her eyes drilled into , as though searching for an answer I wasn't sure I had.
"I... I don't know," I muttered, trying to explain myself. "I guess I was just desperate. I had to do sothing."
"That's not a good enough excuse," Malachi scoffed. "No spell is that destructive. And punching a truck? You must've wanted to get yourself killed."
I could feel my heart race, a cold sweat creeping up on . If I told them the truth, I'd risk exposing things about my family I wasn't ready to share. There was too much at stake.
"I don't know, okay?" I snapped, my voice rising. "I just did it. I couldn't think of another way out."
Malachi humd, his tone taking on an unsettling edge. "Sothing's off. And I'm going to figure it out."
Before I could say anything, September arrived with our food, thankfully distracting us from the brewing storm. "What's going on here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Malachi didn't waste any ti. "We think Connor's hiding so power. There's no way he pulled off that stunt without sothing extra."
"Oh, he definitely has sothing," September said, her voice cool and unfazed. "Everyone's got a gift, no sha in that."
"But if that's true, then he must be Drails' kid, right?" Malachi pressed, his gaze never leaving , making feel like I was under a spotlight.
"I… I don't know," I stuttered, my heart thumping harder.
"What's your last na?" September asked, her eyes fixed on mine, not letting up.
Before I could answer, Nikki jumped in. "You guys can't just interrogate him like this!" she protested. "He saved all of us!"
"Shut it, Nikki," Malachi snapped.
"Who are you calling 'shut it'?" Tisiah growled, clearly losing his patience.
"Nikki, you got a problem?" Malachi challenged, his voice rising with every word.
The air between them crackled with tension. I was caught in the middle, my mind racing. The pressure was mounting, and I could feel my temper flaring.
"What's your last na, Connor?!" Malachi demanded, his voice cutting through the room.
I felt my blood start to boil. The question repeated in my mind like a drumbeat, drowning out everything else. I couldn't stand it anymore.
Without thinking, I slamd my fist onto the table, the wood splintering beneath my hand, sending everyone into stunned silence.
The diner went dead quiet. I could feel the eyes of every person in the room on . Panic surged through —I needed to leave before I did sothing worse.
I bolted from the booth and rushed to the bathroom, locking myself in a stall to escape the chaos. Inside, I collapsed, breathing heavily, tears threatening to spill over. I had no control, no idea how to fix the ss I'd just created. Everything was falling apart, and I was losing myself in the process.
Then, there was a knock on the stall door. It was soft, gentle—an anchor in the storm.
"Connor?" September's voice reached , full of concern.
"Yeah?" I answered, my voice shaky.
"Are you okay?"
"I don't know," I admitted, my walls starting to crumble. "I don't know what to do anymore."
"Can you co out?" she asked, her voice warm but firm. "It's weird of to be in the boys bathroom."
I hesitated, taking a mont to gather what little composure I had left. With a heavy sigh, I unlocked the door and stepped out into the bright, harsh lights of the diner.
"Is everything okay?" September asked, her eyes scanning mine for signs of distress.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, forcing a smile. "Just... a little stressed."
She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You don't fool , you know. You said you were stressed. Are you sure you're okay? Is there sothing you're not telling us?"
I felt a lump form in my throat, the weight of the truth pressing down on . I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing ca out. Instead, I just shook my head. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
"Alright," she said, though her eyes still held a glimr of doubt. "But if you ever want to talk, we're here for you."
"Thanks," I muttered, grateful for her understanding, even if I couldn't bring myself to open up just yet.
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