Kindred Spirits

I

Lukas above

The frigid night wrapped around Lukas like a suffocating blanket as he stepped out of his new home and into the unfamiliar streets of a town that still felt foreign. Just two weeks into his new life, his mental well-being was already beginning to fray. The move had been sudden, the kind that left little time for preparation or adjustment, and now, standing on the brink of a new school, the weight of leaving everything familiar behind was almost too much to bear.

The first day of school had always been a mixture of excitement and dread for Lukas, but this time, dread was the dominant emotion. He knew the choice before him: either find a way to blossom socially in this new environment or endure the prospect of solitary existence, with only the oppressive night sky as his companion. Wearing his beloved leopard print Versace blouse—a small piece of his former life—Lukas tried to summon the confidence that had once come so easily. Each step toward the stop sign felt heavy, the earth beneath him seeming to cry out in mournful protest.

His friends back in Virginia had filled his head with stories about the rough life at public schools, a stark contrast to the sheltered existence he had known at Ashburn Academy. Now, as he eyed the approaching school bus, those stories played on a loop in his mind, fueling his anxiety. The bright yellow bus, a glaring contrast to his dark mood, approached with no identification number, leaving Lukas unsure if this was his ride. His heart rate quickened with uncertainty. He hesitated, pulling out his iPhone XR from his Himalayan Birkin, trying to make sense of the situation.

And then it happened—the bus, not his, sped through a puddle, drenching him in dirty rainwater. Lukas stood frozen, the cold shock numbing his senses. The humiliation was immediate and intense, his body locked in place as the realization hit him. Moments later, the scream that tore from his throat was primal, a release of the pent-up frustration and embarrassment that had been building since his arrival in this town.

"Mama," he sobbed into the phone, his voice thick with emotion.

"Are you okay, my child?" came the concerned reply from his mother.

"No, a bus just passed by and splashed me," Lukas choked out, his tears mixing with the water that clung to his face.

"My child, what are you wearing?" she asked, a note of amusement in her voice.

"Versace," he whispered, feeling more foolish with each passing second.

She chuckled softly, her voice filled with the kind of warmth that only a mother could provide. "I told you to wear ordinary clothes, my child. I also warned you not to try and make others feel inferior by flaunting expensive brands. You're not in Milan anymore; no one here wears Gucci, Versace, or Balenciaga, but as always, you never listened."

Lukas was unprepared for the stark differences in his new environment. At Ashburn Academy, he had been someone—known, admired, envied. His mother's status as the top neuropsychologist in their home state had given him a sort of celebrity status. Wearing expensive designer pieces had earned him attention, though not always the kind he had hoped for.

The girls at Ashburn had clung to him like moths to a flame, drawn to the luxurious life he led. They showered him with compliments, but Lukas knew better now. Their interest had never been in him, only in what he could offer. The realization had been painful, a bitter pill to swallow as he handed over prized possessions, believing it would buy him the social life he craved. But in the end, he had been left with nothing—no real friends, no genuine connections, only the hollow ache of betrayal.

The Uber pulled up to the entrance of Rockledge High, and Lukas took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. The driver, a kind-eyed man in his mid-forties, smiled warmly at him as he stepped out of the car. "Good luck, young man. It's a new day, a fresh start."