The layers of Kaid Isherwood (The 1st book in the 'Layers' series)

Chapter 7

Kaid's POV 

When dinner had wrapped up and the clinking of plates and muffled chatter finally settled, Lucan made his way back into the room. I didn't even glance up. It wasn't out of rudeness, more like a well-practiced art of pretending not to care. Plus, I was in the middle of my latest obsession: some random mobile game I picked up in a bout of boredom. It probably wouldn't last; they never did.

"I expected you to be here when I got back," Lucan remarked as I continued to stare at my phone screen, thumbing away like the world was falling apart around me.

I didn't look up. "I had to go to the store. Left campus for a bit." I shrugged.

Lucan, ever the curious creature, seemed to find my disinterest unnerving. He sat at his desk, his eyes flickering from me to the papers scattered across his workspace, clearly unsure what to make of the calm I exuded.

"That explains it," he muttered, dropping into his chair, but I could see his mind was still working through the calculus of my actions, trying to figure me out.

Then, out of nowhere, I tossed out a comment like I was casually discussing the weather. "I heard my stalker threatened you."

Lucan blinked, clearly thrown off. "Yeah, she seemed really angry. Even dyed her hair to match yours," he said with an exasperated sigh, as if dealing with the full spectrum of women's behavior was just too much for him today.

I couldn't help but smirk. "I figured she would. It's kind of her thing," I said, not looking away from my phone.

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming nervously on the desk. "Are you going to class tomorrow?"

I sighed dramatically and placed my phone down, as if this was a huge inconvenience to my schedule. "No." I stood up. "I'll be doing whatever it is I do. Don't wait up." With a flourish, I unlocked the closet door, stepped inside, and locked it behind me. You know, just in case he wanted to come in and spoil my mood or something.

I could hear Lucan's voice faintly from the other side of the door, probably muttering something about my "emotional baggage" or whatever, but I didn't really care. He was one of those people who just couldn't let things slide. And trust me, he was about to get a real taste of that.

I walked past the stack of clothes (yes, it was organized chaos, thank you very much) and made my way over to my computer that was nestled in a corner by the stairs. I sat down and booted it up. Time for some real work.

I wasn't really a messy person, contrary to what most people thought. The way I organized my things was a fine art, one that required a deep understanding of how human brains misinterpreted chaos. But enough about that—there were more important things to focus on. Like Lucan.

I accessed the student records. Don't ask how. Let's just say I had my ways. Lucan's file was a treasure trove of "meh." His age? Boring. Height? Standard. Weight? Don't care. Birthday? Too soon to make any creepy comments.

But his grades? Okay, that was mildly interesting. Not that it mattered, though. There was nothing here that would serve as ammunition in this carefully-crafted mental chess match. So, I moved on.

And then it hit me. Jonah. His sibling. The one in my grade. The one who'd called him last night. Yeah, that Jonah. Of course, Lucan didn't know that. No one ever did. I chuckled darkly to myself before moving on.

No ammo. No fun. Time for Plan B.

It's funny how people think I'm a slacker. They don't know the truth. Sure, I may be a "disaster" in the eyes of the untrained observer, but really, I was just... efficient.

As I put my plan into motion, I found myself thinking: This is going to be so much fun. He thinks he knows me. He thinks he's seen it all. But he has no idea how deep the rabbit hole goes.

I retrieved my calligraphy set. You might think that was overkill, but trust me, it wasn't. It was perfect. My handwriting looked like something out of a medieval fantasy novel. So, I wrote the letter.

Dear Mr. Ashworth,

I hereby would like to invite you to join the student council. If you choose to accept, take this letter to the Council room. Mina Stightson will be there to confirm your acceptance. If you do not wish to join, simply disregard this message. You have until Monday to make a decision. Please, be wise with your choice.

Regards,
Mr. Student Council President

Oh, did I forget to mention? I was the Student Council President. Not that anyone knew that. In fact, only the Headmaster was in on my little secret. Everyone else had no clue that the most hated kid in school also happened to be its most powerful figure. I mean, come on, it was pure irony. The slacker who couldn't even bother to show up to class was the one making the real decisions around here.

I placed the letter carefully on Lucan's neat desk, right where it would catch his eye. I could practically see his reaction in my head. He'd be confused. He'd be suspicious. And, most importantly, he'd have no idea what to do with it.

As I finished up, I leaned back in my chair and smirked. This was the part I loved. Watching people squirm, especially when they had no idea who was pulling the strings. The letter was only the beginning, after all.

This game I was playing? It wasn't just about winning—it was about making sure the loser was left with more than just a bruised ego. I was going to mess with his mind. He wouldn't know whether to trust his own thoughts. Eventually, he'd start seeing my "little messages" everywhere. In every corner of his life. Every misplaced object. Every weird coincidence. He'd become so paranoid he wouldn't be able to tell if he was going insane or if I was just that good.

The best part? He'd never see it coming. He wouldn't even be sure if I was playing the game anymore or just having fun with his sanity.

After all, this was my game. And I wasn't losing.