Witches Chronicles

Chapter 2:

The halls of Glen Haven High feel like they’ve barely changed since I left for the summer. Students are still bustling between lockers, cliques regrouping after months apart, and Layla’s still making us dodge people because she’s distracted by her phone or sketching in her notebook. I’m still shaking off the weird feeling from this morning, though, like something’s lurking just beneath the surface of this normal day.

"Why does it feel like this place shrinks every year?" Layla mutters, weaving through a group of freshmen.

"Probably because it does," I say, half-joking. "Or we’re just bigger now. We’re seniors, after all."

She snorts but doesn’t argue. I can tell she’s distracted. I don’t push it, though. It’s the first day back, and everyone’s got a lot on their mind. Maybe even more so after a summer apart.

We head to our first class—History. Not exactly my favorite way to start the year, but at least I’ve got Layla with me. We settle into our usual seats near the back of the room. Mr. Warren, our History teacher, shuffles papers at his desk, preparing for another long year of lectures. I watch as Layla pulls out her notebook, already doodling little hearts and stars in the margins like she always does.

Twenty minutes into the lesson, the door swings open. A guy I’ve never seen before walks in, and the room falls quiet for a moment. Mr. Warren pauses mid-sentence, looking up at him with mild interest. The new guy stands there, tall, with messy dark hair and a sharp jawline that could probably cut glass. His eyes are cold, almost detached, as if he’s sizing up the room but not really caring about anyone in it.

He walks to the only empty seat in the room, right by the windows, and sits down without a word. Something about him draws my attention—not just his looks, though he’s definitely attractive, but the way he carries himself. He seems... different. Not like the usual new students trying to find their footing. There’s a certain kind of confidence there, like he’s not new to anything at all.

I lean over to Layla and whisper, "That hottie is staring at you."

Layla jerks her head up, eyes wide. "What? No way," she hisses, blushing a little as she looks down at her doodles again.

I smirk. "Totally. He’s been glancing over at you since he walked in."

She sneaks another glance but tries to play it off. "You’re imagining things, Willow."

I shake my head, unable to wipe the grin off my face. "Not a chance. He’s definitely got his eye on you."

Layla rolls her eyes, but I can tell she’s flustered. She tries to keep her cool, but I know her too well. She’s not the kind of person who gets easily swept up in this sort of thing, but there’s something about this guy that has her off balance. And honestly, I don’t blame her. I can feel it too, that weird energy coming off him. He’s not just some random transfer student.

For the rest of the class, I sneak glances at him, but he’s mostly staring out the window, completely uninterested in what Mr. Warren’s droning on about. When the bell rings, he’s up and out of the room before anyone else, disappearing into the hallway like a ghost.

We head to our next class, still talking about the mysterious new guy. Layla’s trying to brush it off, but I can tell she’s thinking about him just as much as I am. There’s something strange about him. And even though I don’t know him, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s important—somehow.

We’re halfway down the hall when Layla bumps into someone, her books scattering across the floor.

"Oh God, I’m so sorry!" she blurts out, kneeling down to pick them up.

I glance up, and it’s him. The new guy from History. He bends down to help her, moving slowly, calmly, like he’s got all the time in the world.

"Don’t worry about it," he says in a low, steady voice, handing her a notebook. His eyes lock onto hers, and for a moment, it feels like everything in the hallway slows down.

Layla looks up, her cheeks flushing as she takes the notebook. "Uh, thanks. I’m Layla."

He holds her gaze for a second longer before nodding. "Jace."

Layla blinks, clearly caught off guard. "You’re new here, right?"

"Yeah," he says simply, standing up and handing her the last of her books. "Just moved here."

His voice is calm, measured, but there’s something off about it. Like he’s holding back. As if he’s hiding something just beneath the surface.

I feel that weird buzz again. Something’s not right about him. I don’t know what it is, but it’s there.

"Well, welcome to Glen Haven," Layla says, smiling, though I can see the nervousness in her eyes. "It’s, uh, pretty small. You’ll get used to it."

Jace gives her a small smile—a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Thanks."

And then, just like before, he’s gone. Slipping through the crowd without another word.

Layla and I stand there for a moment, stunned.

"Okay," I finally say, breaking the silence. "That was intense."

Layla lets out a breath, still clutching her books to her chest. "Yeah. There’s something... weird about him, right? Like, he’s cute, but also... I don’t know. Dark."

I nod. "Definitely something off. But in a mystical kind of way."

Layla laughs, but it’s strained. "Yeah. Exactly. Like he’s carrying around some big secret or something."

We head to our next class, but neither of us can stop thinking about Jace.

By the time lunch rolls around, we’re ready to tell Evie everything. She’s sitting at our usual table, scrolling through her phone, looking as put-together as always.

"You’re not going to believe what happened," I say, sliding into the seat across from her.

Evie looks up, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Spill."

Layla hesitates, then blurts out, "I bumped into this guy—Jace—and he’s... intense."

Evie’s eyes light up. "Intense how?"

I jump in. "He’s new, and super cute. But it’s not just that. He’s got this... vibe. Like he’s carrying a bunch of dark secrets or something."

Evie pouts dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "And I didn’t get to meet him first? Ugh, you two always get all the good drama."

"Where is he?" Evie asks, looking around the cafeteria.

Layla shrugs. "That’s the thing—he’s not here. He didn’t come to lunch. Kind of weird, right?"

Evie leans forward, her eyes gleaming with interest. "Mysterious and brooding? I love that. We need to find him."

I shake my head, laughing. "Of course you do."

Layla still looks thoughtful, her eyes a little distant. I can tell she’s still thinking about Jace. And honestly, so am I. There’s something strange about him, and I can’t shake the feeling that we haven’t seen the last of him—or his secrets.

The rest of the school day blurs by, but Jace lingers in the back of my mind. We don’t see him again, which only adds to the mystery. Layla’s quiet, clearly thinking about him, while Evie is already plotting ways to track him down.

When the final bell rings, we head to our lockers, and Evie immediately announces her plans. "We’re going to the mall tonight."

I blink. "What? Why?"

"Because we need to get supplies for your birthday slumber party," Evie says, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Snacks, cute outfits, and obviously, milkshakes."

I groan. "Do we really need to go all out?"

"Yes!" Evie says firmly. "You’re turning eighteen, Willow. We’re doing this right."

I glance at Layla, who shrugs with a grin. "Come on, Willow. It’ll be fun."

Sighing, I give in. "Fine. But no crazy outfits, okay?"

At the mall, we grab milkshakes first and then hit the stores. Evie insists on buying everything with her dad’s credit card, waving off our protests. "It’s your birthday, Willow. My treat."

Layla laughs as she picks out a sleek black jumpsuit, while Evie grabs a bright, bold dress that only she could pull off. I settle on something more casual—a soft, flowy top and a pair of jeans that make me feel just a little more put-together than usual.

As we leave the mall, laughing and carrying too many bags, I try to push away the strange thoughts still floating in the back of my mind. Tomorrow’s my birthday, and maybe things are about to change. But I’m not sure I’m ready for whatever’s coming.