Page 4 of Wraith

“Anytime,” she said with a smile. “And hey—if they try anything again, just let me know. I’ll take them down for you.”

Her exaggerated tough-girl act made me laugh despite myself. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Jenna stood to leave, she rested a hand on my shoulder briefly. “You’re not alone, Lily. Don’t forget that.”

Her words stayed with me long after she was gone. Maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought. Maybe there was a way out of this cycle of hurt and rejection. But for now, all I could do was take it one day at a time.

Three

The envelope stoodout against the chaos of my desk, its pristine, cream-colored paper out of place among the piles of tattered notebooks and half-empty coffee cups. My name was scrawled across the front in bold, slanted handwriting I’d recognize anywhere.

Kael.

My breath caught as I picked it up, turning it over in my hands. There was no return address and no indication of what might be inside. My fingers trembled slightly as I slid a nail under the flap, tearing it open with more force than necessary. Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded neatly in thirds.

Lily, Meet us at the old Dovetail Theater tonight at 8. -K

The words were sparse, almost clinical, but the sight of Kael’s signature sent a familiar jolt through me. My heart raced as Iread and reread the note.Meet us?Did that mean all of them? Why?

They’d never invited me anywhere before. Never reached out, never acknowledged me beyond their biting remarks and cold stares.

My pulse quickened with something dangerously close to hope.

The Dovetail Theater. Everyone on campus knew about it. Once the crown jewel of the city, it had fallen into disrepair decades ago. Now, it was little more than a hollow shell, its faded grandeur covered in graffiti and broken beer bottles.

Despite—or maybe because of—its derelict state, it had become a popular spot for students. Late-night parties, secret rendezvous, and even the occasional hazing ritual took place within its crumbling walls. Professors and campus security tried to keep students out, but it only added to the appeal. Dovetail had a reputation, a rebellious allure that made it the perfect backdrop for the bold—or the foolish.

And now, they wanted me to meet them there.

“This has to be it,” I murmured to myself, clutching the note like a lifeline. “They wouldn’t invite me just to hurt me again… would they?”

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. My lectures became white noise, my thoughts consumed by what the night might hold. Reconciliation? An apology? The possibilities were endless, and I let myself indulge in each one, no matter how improbable.

Back in my dorm, I rifled through my closet, discarding one outfit after another. Everything felt wrong—too casual, too try-hard, too…me.I finally settled on a simple black dress that hugged my figure without drawing too much attention. It wasn’t fancy, but it made me feel put together, confident. Almost like I belonged.

Standing in front of the mirror, I hesitated. My reflection stared back, her eyes wide with nervous excitement. I tugged at a loose strand of hair, then smoothed it back into place. Did I look too eager? Too desperate?

The door to the dorm creaked open, and my roommate, Elise, strolled in, arms loaded with shopping bags. Her heels clicked against the linoleum floor, her glossy auburn hair bouncing with every step. Elise always looked like she belonged in one of those influencer social media posts—poised, polished, perfect.

She dropped her bags onto her bed and raised an eyebrow at me. “Wow, Lily. Big date or something?”

I flushed, tugging at the hem of my dress. “No. Just… meeting some people.”

Elise plopped down onto her neatly made bed, propping her chin in her hand as she studied me. “Uh-huh. And these ‘people’—are they the reason you’ve been moping around for, like, ever?”

Her bluntness made my stomach twist. “I don’t mope.”

“Sure, and I don’t spend too much on shoes,” she quipped, gesturing at the bags surrounding her. “Come on, who are you meeting? You’re never this dressed up.”

“It’s… complicated.” I avoided her gaze, pretending to fuss with the zipper of my dress.

“Complicated like you’re about to make a really bad decision? Or complicated, like I should have wine ready when you get back?” Her tone was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of genuine curiosity.

I hesitated. Elise didn’t know much about my connection to the guys—thankfully. Explaining the pain of being tied to people who didn’t want me was a rabbit hole I wasn’t ready to go down.

“It’s just some people from class,” I lied.

Elise squinted at me but didn’t press further. “Well, for what it’s worth, you look great. And if these ‘class people’ give you any trouble, just remember you’re way out of their league.”

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