The bus rattled, a metal beast groaning its way through the gray morning. Aethel pressed her forehead against the cool, vibrating window, watching the blur of trees and houses slip by. Her long, black hair, usually a carefully arranged curtain of darkness, was a tangled mess today, thanks to a rushed attempt at sleep. She sighed, the sound lost in the rumble of the engine.
Everyone stared. Well, not everyone, but enough. It was always the same. The whispers, the glances, the way their eyes lingered just a little too long. It wasn't her clothes, though her ripped jeans and band tees certainly didn't help. And it wasn't the dark eyeliner that framed her eyes like a shadowy halo. It was her eyes themselves. Golden. Not amber, not hazel with flecks of gold, but pure, unadulterated gold. Like sunlight trapped in her irises.
She'd tried everything to hide them. Colored contacts? Irritated her eyes until they watered. Ignoring it? Impossible. People were too curious. She just wanted to be normal. Or, as normal as a sixteen-year-old, emo-leaning tomboy could be.
Today, the staring was even worse than usual. Maybe it was the strange, almost electric tingle she'd felt all morning. Like the air itself was buzzing. Or maybe it was just Monday.
The bus screeched to a halt, and Aethel shoved her earbuds in, the music a welcome wall against the world. She stepped off, the familiar brick walls of Oakwood High looming before her. The usual crowd was there: the jocks, the cheerleaders, the drama kids, and the nerds huddled around their phones. And, of course, the ones who stared.
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She made her way to her locker, the metal door groaning in protest as she spun the combination. Inside, her books were a chaotic mess. She shoved a stray notebook back in and slammed the door shut, the metallic clang echoing in the hallway.
“Hey, Aethel.”
She turned to see Liam, her best friend, leaning against the lockers, a grin on his face. Liam was the only one who didn't stare. He got it. He was a lanky guy with messy brown hair and a perpetually amused expression.
“Hey,” she mumbled, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Anything interesting happen over the weekend?”
“Besides me beating my high score on ‘Galactic Gladiators’? Not really.” He paused, his grin fading slightly. “You seem…off. Everything okay?”
Aethel hesitated. How could she explain the weird tingle, the feeling that something was about to happen? “Just a Monday,” she said, forcing a smile.
Liam raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push. “Alright. But if you need anything…”
The bell rang, cutting him off. Aethel grabbed her history book and headed to class, the strange feeling still buzzing beneath her skin. As she walked, she noticed something odd. The hallway lights flickered, casting long, distorted shadows. And for a split second, she thought she saw a faint golden glow, not from her eyes, but from the walls themselves.
She blinked, and it was gone. Just her imagination, she told herself. But deep down, a small, uneasy voice whispered, “No, it wasn’t.”
