Mr. Harris stood frozen in the doorway, just as Scott and Stiles slid in behind him. More students began gathering, murmuring among themselves.
"What the hell happened?" someone called out.
Iván turned, confused—and his breath caught. Every mirror in the restroom was covered in a thick layer of frost, steam curling from the glass like breath in winter air.
All eyes were on the mirrors—no one noticed the faint blue glow pulsing from the pendant around Iván's neck.
But hidden inside one of the stalls, a student had seen everything.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Iván slipped away, the teachers momentarily forgetting the altercation entirely.
He sprinted down the halls as every sound crashed into him at once—the chatter of students, the chirping of birds outside, the rumble of cars passing by. It was overwhelming, like the world's volume had been turned up to the max.
Turning a corner, he staggered, bracing himself against the wall. A sharp headache spiked behind his eyes. Glancing down, he saw the jewel on his necklace softly glowing, humming with a strange energy.
He yanked the pendant off—and instantly, the overwhelming noise vanished. The silence hit him like a breath of fresh air.
"What the hell…" he gasped. "So you're responsible, huh?"
He stared at the pendant in his hand, jaw tightening.
"That's it. I'm done with this voodoo crap."
With a burst of frustration, Iván hurled it as hard as he could. The pendant dissolved mid-air into tiny blue particles—glimmering like fireflies—before swirling back toward him.
His eyes widened as the glowing fragments reassembled, reforming the necklace around his neck like nothing had happened.
"…You've gotta be kidding me," he muttered.
Before he could even think about what to do next, he heard Mr. Harris's frustrated voice echo from down the hall.
"Where the hell did Iván go?" the teacher snapped, scanning the crowd of students.
Run, a voice whispered in Iván's mind.
Without hesitation, he took off, sprinting through the halls. But his escape didn't last long—just as he reached the side doors, a staff member stepped in his path and grabbed him by the arm.
"Nice try, kid," they said. "You're not going anywhere."
And now Iván was in the principal office getting yelled by who?
My mom—in front of the principal? Of all people!
"You broke that kid's arm? ¡¿Estás loco, Iván?!" she yelled, switching to Spanish in her fury. "¡Eres un tonto! ¡Un tonto estúpido! Just wait until we get home—I swear, te voy a dar una buena."
While she continued yelling at me—throwing every Spanish swear she knew—I was lost in thought, replaying everything that had happened earlier.
"He glanced down at the necklace. It spoke—he could've sworn it did. Then there was the bathroom freezing over… the super hearing… like he was some kind of superhero."
But the moment he got caught, the hearing faded. So yeah, all signs pointed to one thing—it was Lune. That pendant was behind everything.
"I want to press charges against him," a firm voice said.
A well-dressed man stepped forward—it was Mr. Whitmore.
Hearing that made Iván's heart sink. He stared at the man, instantly knowing by his sharp suit and cold stare—he was a lawyer.
Just then, a knock echoed through the room. Sheriff Stilinski entered.
"I've been informed of the situation," he said calmly.
"Good," Mr. Whitmore snapped. "Then I want this young man arrested. He assaulted my son. I want formal charges pressed—assault and battery."
"That won't be necessary," Daniela interrupted, her amber eyes narrowed, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "I believe you've forgotten that the security cameras tell a very different story. My son was clearly unwell and went to the restroom. Your son followed him—uninvited and with obvious intent written all over his face."
"Then how do you explain my son ending up with a broken wrist?" Mr. Whitmore demanded, folding his arms. "Your boy didn't even look bruised."
Iván stood up, tired of hearing this go back and forth.
"I took karate lessons," he said, stepping forward. "If you'd like, I can give you a demonstration—right here, right now."
"Iván!" his mother snapped sharply.
"Calm down, kid," the sheriff said, stepping in. "I've got a reliable witness saying Jackson started it—so no need to worry."
"Wait—who?" Mr. Whitmore demanded.
"A student was in the restroom and saw everything."
"Oh, shit," Iván muttered under his breath. Someone else saw the place freeze… but hey, if they can't prove it was me, then fine.
"So… am I free to go?" Iván asked, glancing between the principal and the sheriff.
Leaving the principal's office, he walked out with a frown on his face.
First, he was grounded. His phone was taken, and his laptop would be next. Second—well, I wasn't charged, which was the best part. Oh, and let's not forget—I've got a week of detention to look forward to.
As time passed, Iván walked into the cafeteria and sat alone, finally getting a moment to think about his little magic situation.
He glanced down at Lune, the pendant tucked under his shirt and hidden from human eyes. No way in hell could he risk it glowing in front of the whole school. He had even tried stuffing it in his pocket, but it always ended up back around his neck—so he gave up.
With a sigh, he picked at his food, only to be interrupted by a skinny kid with messy blond hair, sharp blue eyes, and glasses, who slid onto the bench beside him with a tray in hand.
"Hey," the kid whispered, "I saw what you did in there. Don't worry—I won't snitch."
"Huh?" Iván blinked.
Wait… was this the kid from the restroom? The one who might've seen everything?
Okay, play dumb.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Iván said casually.
The kid looked around nervously, pushing his glasses up like people were eavesdropping. He leaned in close.
"You can do magic—I saw it. Your amulet," he whispered, pointing. "It glowed, man. But you shouldn't use it out in the open. Someone might catch you."
What the hell is this guy talking about?
shall I freeze him?
A voice echoed in Iván's mind, and he froze.
Before he could react, the blond kid grabbed his tray and walked off, leaving Iván sitting there, too stunned by the voice to worry about the weird encounter.
Who said that? he thought, glancing around.
He waited for a response, but nothing came.
"Well… I'm officially going insane," he muttered to himself. "Guess it's time to pack my bags and check into the nearest asylum."
Iván grabbed his tray and headed out—but not before getting stopped by none other than Scott.
"Hey, man… what was that back there?" Scott asked.
"If you're talking about the restroom freezing—I don't know," Iván said quickly, then rushed off before Scott could ask anything else.
Man, what is going on today? he thought, eyes narrowed as he tossed his tray into the bin.
"Hey, you."
Iván froze in place.
Now that he was alone, a soft voice echoed in his mind—childlike, but sharp.
"You bastard. Don't you ever throw me like that again. I have feelings, you know."