The Edge Of Innocence

The New Arrival

Sophie's POV

The click of my camera shutter echoes through the almost empty hallway. It's the sound I cling to—the only noise in my life that I have full control over. In this small town, where every day blends into the next, my camera is my escape. Through the lens, I can turn the mundane into art. The way the sunlight filters through the grimy school windows or the way Ella's laugh bursts from her in the middle of the cafeteria, all of it is captured and frozen forever.

"Did you hear about the new guy?" Ella asks, bounding up beside me as I slip the camera into my backpack.

I shake my head, barely listening. I'm focused on getting the perfect shot of a cracked tile on the floor—there's something poetic about its imperfection, a little broken piece in the middle of all the order.

"They say he got expelled from his last school," she continues. "For fighting, or maybe even worse. Some people think he's in a gang."

Now she has my attention. "A gang?" I glance up at her, raising an eyebrow. Shoreline High is as dull as this town—nothing exciting ever happens here. A gang would be the most thrilling thing to happen since the fire drill last month. "Are you serious?"

"I mean, it's just a rumor," Ella shrugs. "But you should see him, Sophie. He's gorgeous—like, bad-boy, dangerous-hot. You know what I mean?"

I roll my eyes. Ella falls in love with a new boy every week. But before I can say anything, a figure catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.

He's leaning against the wall near the lockers, arms crossed, eyes dark and brooding. His messy black hair falls just above his intense gaze, like a shadow. There's something about the way he holds himself—defiant, like the world is daring him to make a wrong move. He looks out of place here, like he's already too jaded for high school, already seen more than the rest of us.

"That's him," Ella whispers. "Ryan Brooks."

Ryan. I snap a quick photo of him before I can stop myself. He doesn't notice—thank God. But as I glance down at the image on my camera's screen, my stomach twists. There's something in his eyes. Sadness? Anger? Whatever it is, I know I shouldn't be looking so closely.

"He's trouble, Soph," Ella warns, even though her eyes are still glued to him. "But he's hot trouble."

As if he heard her, Ryan turns his head in our direction, his dark eyes locking onto mine. My breath catches, and for a second, I swear I see a flicker of recognition—like he knows I've been watching him. Then he smirks, just barely, before walking away without a word.