Final Summer. [Short Novel]

Final Summer. [Short Novel]

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Oct 20, 2025
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Fiction
Mystery
The bus door slammed open, startling even the driver. Jennie stood at the entrance for a long second, unmoving. Her soaked dress clung to her pale skin. Her eyes were shadowed, her expression blank. Then she stepped in. The bus went dead silent. You could hear every soft, wet footstep she took down the aisle. Malcolm's hand grabbed my arm again. Jennie didn't look like Jennie. Water and dirt dripped from her as she passed us, leaving a trail along the vinyl floor. She stopped beside Chad, the obnoxiously loud himbo, and sat. He didn't say a word. He didn't even move. The air turned colder, heavier. It felt wrong. The bus jolted forward. The driver turned up the volume on his radio like nothing had happened. Jennie's school dress was torn at the hem, her socks mismatched and soaked. Her skin was nearly colorless, lips pale and eyes sunken in dark hollows. "What the hell happened to her?" Gwen hissed. "Who the fuck knows? And honestly, it's probably none of our business," Malcolm muttered, hugging his backpack like a support animal. "Word is she was sick or something-but that doesn't explain why she looks like she crawled out of a sewer." I said. "We should ask her at break." "Alright then, the tea should be interesting," Gwen smirked. "This is what you always do," Malcolm puffed his cheeks. "You poke your nose in places it doesn't belong and drag us down with you." "Why are you being so annoying?" I snapped. "She's our friend. It's normal to check up on her." "Fine. Just ask simple questions, alright?" "That's the plan, duvas," Gwen said with an exaggerated sigh.
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He once told me no one knows the real him.I didn't think he meant it, and not in a good way. He is a straight A student, and everyone knows it, not to mention he is on the swim team. All that though isn't the real him, the real him hides deep within himself. ---------- "Can you please tell me what that was?" I nearly shout at him. All I get is silence. He keeps his back to me. "Please, I need some explanation." I beg. I stay still as he stops dead in his tracks. His body is tense and it's scarring me. He turns around slowly to face me with his hands at his sides. His eyes meet mine, but there is no spark of any emotion in them. They are cold and dark making me look away not being able to hold his deadly stare. I feel uneasy under his gaze, and i feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of my face. "No, I won't explain because it's not important." He says in a low, almost, growl. I flinch and look back into his eyes. I feel hurt by his words and I don't know why, but I know he sees it in my eyes. His faces flashes with regret but it's quickly covered up with his faces going back to it's hard cold look. I feel my heart stop and my face go pale. His look terrified me making me hold my breath. "Breath." He orders. I start to breathe again and just blink at him. "Now go." He orders me again. I flinch involuntarily at his tone and jump back slightly. "Please don't let me walk home alone." I beg in a quiet voice, looking down at my feet. The next thing I see are his black combat boots right in front of my shoes. I look up into his eyes and he looks down into mine confusion written all over his face. "How come you aren't running yet?" He questions searching my eyes. "I just can't walk home alone, please I'm scared." I hear him chuckle. "You aren't afraid of me? What can possibly be scarier than me?" He asks. "Well, I know you will keep me safe." "Why is that?" He questions raising an eyebrow at me. "You haven't hurt me." "Yet." He mutters, but I roll my eyes.

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