Why does the air taste different when you're around?

Chpt. 1

Holt scrunched up his nose, "The air tastes different," he clicked his tongue in distaste.

Frankie, who had been sitting with him and Jackson for the last hour outside Monster High, looked over with a confused face. Not only had she not realized Holt had come out at all, too focused on the book in her lap, but that was generally a strange comment to make, "What?"

Holt turned to her, face still scrunched up in disapproval, "The air tastes different," he repeated, "I dunno, 's not right," he clicked his tongue a few more times, before whistling and scrunching his face up again.

Frankie laughed lightly, "How does the air taste different? It's air," she tilted her head at him as he looked around, occasionally pulling in a brief breath before holding it, like he wanted to breathe as little as possible. Frankie watched him in confusion, in concern. He'd never acted like this before, and she flinched at the sudden movement of him pulling off his headphones, leaving a confused Jackson.

"Frankie?" he frowned, "What," he looked off to the left, a habit Frankie had seen whenever he was listening to Holt say something she couldn't hear, before his face scrunched up, "Okay, sorry, you can go back to reading," he turned back to Frankie, smiling sheepishly and pulling his own book from his bag.

Frankie eyed him nervously for a moment, something about that interaction felt off to her. Felt wrong. But she did as she was told, returning to her reading and only sneaking glances at her boyfriend(s) every few pages.

The rest of their fang-out was done in quiet, Jackson would occasionally mutter something not directed at her and she wouldn't even spare him a look, too lost in her book. It was a reading project for class, but she actually quite liked the plot and writing.

And then the sun started setting, and Jackson looked up from his own copy of the book (of which he was significantly less interested in) and hummed in disappointment, "Frankie," he called, causing her to hum and turn to him, a finger landing on the last word she read, "You should head back to your dorm, I'm going home,"

She blinked at him for a moment, before smiling and nodding, "Alrighty, thanks for fanging out!" she stayed on the bench as he stood, walking away from the school. He paused before he was out of sight, glancing back at her with a look on his face she couldn't truly place. Concern, fear, appreciation? She was still trying to figure out facial expressions, and while it didn't look like anything good, maybe it was?

Maybe she should ask tomorrow...

...

Jackson and Holt's schedule was split between the two of them. Holt had Music Theory, Art, Band, and Home-ick, whilst Jackson had Clawculus, Dead Languages, Ge-ogre-fy, and Biteology. While most would likely complain about how one had all extra-curriculars and the other had the core classes, they were fine with the setup. Jackson loved science and math and all of that, whilst Holt couldn't focus while in the classes and needed more creative outlets.

Unfortunately second period was Home-Ick today, and Holt still felt... Off, from the day prior. He had Frankie in this class though, and wanted to apologize! He didn't know what in the world came over him. Really what kinda line was that? 'The air tastes different,' mega lame.

But as soon as he strolled into the class, that same feeling fell over him and chilled into his bones. He scrunched up his nose only to quickly drop the expression and find his seat beside Frankie.

He made eye contact with Scarah, who sat across the row with wide and fearful eyes. She glanced toward Frankie like there was a hidden message behind her eyes that Holt didn't understand. He looked away from the Banshee, pulling out his notebook.