Adrian Reed liked to think he was ordinary. Ordinary was safe. Ordinary meant classmates barely remembered his name and teachers never called on him unless absolutely forced. Ordinary meant books, tea, and living life so quietly that nothing unexpected ever dared approach him.

So when the classroom door slammed open like a thundercrack, it nearly knocked him out of his comfortable bubble.

Mr. Hawthorne cleared his throat. “Class, we have a new student.”

In stepped a boy who seemed allergic to being ordinary. Elias Harper. He held himself like every step was a secret dance step only he knew. His dark-silver hair looked ruffled by a breeze that wasn’t there, and his storm-colored eyes carried a spark that made the world slow for a heartbeat… or three.

Whispers swirled around the room, but Elias didn’t care. His gaze drifted over every student like he was searching for something. Or someone.

Then his eyes found Adrian.

A strange flutter erupted in Adrian’s chest, as if his heart forgot its usual rhythm and tried on jazz instead.

“There’s a seat by Adrian,” the teacher said.

The universe must have been laughing, because moments later Elias sat beside him, close enough that Adrian could notice the smallest details. Like the faint scent of rain that clung to Elias’s clothes. Or the curve of a smirk that suggested he was used to surprising people.

“Hi,” Elias said, voice warm and impossibly calm.

Adrian pushed sound out of his throat. “Hey.”

He hoped it didn’t sound like he was choking on air.

Chemistry class resumed. The periodic table blurred. Adrian tried focusing on the board, but the heat creeping up his neck refused to cool.

His emotions stirred like a shaken soda can… and that was when his pen lifted from the page again.

It didn’t just hover. It spun slowly above his notebook, as if gravity decided to take a snack break.

Adrian’s pulse skyrocketed. Embarrassment. Panic. A flash of curiosity. The mixture tugged at something deep inside him, something he didn’t understand.

Elias leaned slightly closer, their sleeves nearly brushing. “Breathe,” he whispered.

Adrian inhaled sharply. His emotions stumbled, and the pen clattered back onto the desk. Ink splashed across the paper in a starburst pattern.

“Did you… do that?” Adrian whispered.

The corner of Elias’s mouth curled. “No. That was all you.”

Adrian stared. His brain desperately searched for logic, but logic had left the building.

Elias continued in a soft tone only he could hear. “Your powers respond to what you feel. You just have a lot of feelings right now.”

Adrian’s face flamed red. “I don’t— That’s not— I mean—”

Elias’s chuckle was quiet lightning. “It’s cute.”

It was a miracle Adrian didn’t explode on the spot. The teacher’s voice might as well have been background music now. Every cell in Adrian’s body was too busy trying to process the supernatural, the blush, the boy with eyes like thunderclouds… and the fact that his emotions apparently had magic attached.

The bell rang, freeing him from his own spiraling thoughts.

Elias stood, but paused. “Meet me behind the old library at lunch.” His eyes held a promise. “You deserve answers.”

Adrian couldn’t speak. He only nodded.

The moment Elias left, the room’s air felt emptier. Quieter. Too normal.

Adrian pressed a hand over his heart. Still beating too fast. Still buzzing like it had borrowed electricity.

Ordinary had officially been ruined.

And deep down, beneath the fear, a tiny spark of excitement glowed. Elias had appeared like a storm on a sunny day… and Adrian could already feel his world tilting toward something extraordinary.

The lunch bell rang like a starting gun, sending students pouring into the hallways. Adrian’s stomach twisted. His heart wasn’t just racing—it was tap-dancing in a circus of panic and excitement.

He slipped out of the cafeteria and made his way toward the old library, a building half-hidden by ivy and shadows. Every step felt like it was slowing down, like the world was holding its breath… or maybe it was just him.

Elias was already there, leaning casually against the stone wall, arms crossed, storm-colored eyes tracking Adrian’s approach. He smiled—not that careless smile from class, but one that hinted at secrets and challenges.

“Hey,” Elias said softly. “You came.”

Adrian swallowed. “I… yeah. I thought I should.” His voice squeaked more than he intended.

Elias stepped closer. “Good. Because I need to explain something… important.”

Adrian’s chest tightened. “Okay… important sounds… scary.”

Elias chuckled, and the sound was warm enough to make Adrian’s knees feel like jelly. “Scary can be exciting too.”

He glanced around, then crouched slightly, as if the walls might be listening. “Your magic… it’s tied to your emotions. Every feeling you have can bend reality a little.”

Adrian blinked. “I… I did that in class? My pen… spinning?”

“Exactly,” Elias said, eyes glinting. “You just don’t know how to control it yet. That’s why… well, things might get messy.”

“Messy?” Adrian whispered, imagining desks flying, papers floating, maybe even cafeteria food erupting mid-air. He shivered.

Elias smiled. “Not if we practice. Together.”

Adrian’s heartbeat stuttered. Together. He wanted to ask if that meant what he thought it meant, but his words got tangled somewhere between panic and excitement.

Before he could protest—or confess—the world tilted slightly. A soft shimmer of air lifted the fallen leaves around the library, spiraling like tiny golden dancers. Adrian’s chest jumped.

“I… I didn’t—” he began, but Elias’s hand lightly touched his wrist. The shimmer froze.

“You see?” Elias whispered. “It’s your feelings, not your control. Your magic reacts first, asks questions later.”

Adrian stared at him, words failing. His cheeks burned—not from embarrassment alone. There was something in Elias’s gaze, steady and inviting, that made his pulse feel like a drumline.

“And,” Elias continued, voice lowering just enough to make Adrian lean in, “we might be… connected in ways you don’t understand yet.”

Adrian swallowed hard. “Connected… how?”

Elias didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let a soft wind tousle his hair. Then he smiled that half-secret smile again. “We’ll figure that out. Step by step. But for now…” He pointed to a fallen leaf that floated upward between them. “Try feeling calm. Just calm.”

Adrian focused, forcing his emotions down like turning off a faucet. The leaf wavered, then slowly drifted back to the ground.

Elias grinned. “Not bad for your first try. And… you’re adorable when you try.”

Adrian felt his ears heat up. “I’m not—”

“You totally are,” Elias said, laughing softly. “But don’t worry. You’ll get used to this… and me.”

Adrian’s thoughts spun faster than any magic he could summon. He wanted to run, he wanted to shout, he wanted to just collapse into a puddle of flustered feelings. Instead, he nodded, letting the warm excitement—and the hint of danger—sink in.

Behind the old library, magic was real. And so was Elias.

And Adrian couldn’t tell which was more thrilling… or terrifying.

Adrian barely slept that night. His mind kept replaying everything—Elias’s voice, the shimmer of floating leaves, the touch on his wrist that had felt like electricity and calm all at once.

By morning, he was a zombie in a hoodie.

The moment he stepped into school, he spotted Elias leaning against the lockers, talking to a girl from their class. Elias’s laugh was easy, that same quiet thunder that made everyone nearby turn their heads.

Adrian’s stomach twisted again, but he pretended to rummage in his bag. Totally casual. Totally normal.

Elias caught his eye and grinned. “Morning, magic boy.”

Adrian froze mid-step. “Don’t call me that,” he hissed, cheeks burning.

Elias chuckled, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. “Relax. No one heard. You ready for another test?”

“Test?”

Elias nodded toward the empty stretch of hallway. “Try feeling something small. Something simple. Like curiosity.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “That’s… not how emotions work.”

“Sure it is,” Elias said, stepping closer. “Just think of something that makes you curious. Me, for example.”

Adrian’s brain short-circuited. “You—what—”

Before he could even finish, the locker door next to him swung open by itself, papers spilling like confetti.

“Oh no,” Adrian groaned, rushing to scoop them up. “That was curiosity?”

Elias crouched beside him, smiling. “That was adorable panic disguised as curiosity.”

Adrian shoved the papers into a pile. “You have a weird definition of adorable.”

“I stand by it.” Elias’s voice softened. “You’re learning fast.”

The compliment hit harder than expected. Adrian looked up, meeting his gaze for half a second too long—and suddenly the hallway lights flickered.

Elias blinked. “Okay, maybe too fast.”

“Sorry!” Adrian said quickly, heart pounding. “I didn’t mean to—”

Elias held up a hand. “Hey, hey, breathe. Remember what I said yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Adrian mumbled. “It’s all about how I feel.”

“Exactly. And right now, you’re feeling…”

“Embarrassed,” Adrian muttered.

Elias’s grin widened. “Then let’s call that progress.”

The lights steadied again, leaving only the faint hum of fluorescent bulbs. Adrian exhaled. For a moment, it almost felt peaceful.

Until a spark of energy zipped past his ear and singed the edge of a poster.

Elias snorted. “Okay, maybe mostly peaceful.”

Adrian buried his face in his hands. “I’m a walking disaster.”

“More like a storm learning to dance,” Elias said. “And storms don’t apologize for existing.”

Adrian looked at him, startled by the warmth in his voice. The world seemed quieter again—except for the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Then the bell rang, loud and jarring, and the moment broke apart like glass.

“Meet me after class,” Elias said, shouldering his bag. “We’ll try something new. Something that might show you why your powers exist.”

Adrian blinked. “Why they exist?”

Elias smiled that same secret smile. “You didn’t think this was all random, did you?”

And with that, he walked away, leaving Adrian standing in the flickering hallway, heart pounding and head spinning.

Whatever this connection was—it was growing stronger.

And Adrian wasn’t sure if it thrilled or terrified him more.