In Ethan's room, the air was far too heavy. Rafael and Landon were there, fists clenched and jaws locked, when the door swung open and Ethan walked in, crossing the threshold with a mocking, nonchalant smirk plastered on his lips.
Rafael and Landon gritted their teeth so hard that a dry crunch echoed through the room, but they swallowed their fury and stayed quiet, lacking the courage to test the limits of that unpredictable werewolf after what they had faced in the cafeteria. Ignoring both of their presence, Ethan simply shrugged, threw himself onto his own bed, and closed his eyes to sleep—even with his stomach growling from hunger, preferring the emptiness to the company of those two.
The following day dragged on, with the routine of the Salvatore School running at its usual pace, but the true tension only exacted its toll when classes finally ended.
Hope and Landon met near the lockers in the dorm hallway. The moment he saw her, Landon stepped forward with a regretful expression.
"Hope, look... I'm so sorry," he said, opening his arms to pull her into a hug.
She allowed the contact out of sheer obligation, but her body remained rigid as stone, failing to return the affection. Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Landon tried to cup her face to give her a kiss, but Hope turned her head away abruptly, pulling back with an impatient sigh.
"No, Landon... I don't want this right now," she murmured, her voice cold and distant.
Landon frowned, confused and frustrated, his pride wounded.
"Are you mad about what happened yesterday in the cafeteria, Hope? Is that it? I'm sorry, okay? I just... I really can't stand that guy, he gets on my nerves! Besides, he was hitting on you; I was just defending you."
Hope felt her stomach churn. Knowing that Landon was standing right there, apologizing out of jealousy while she was keeping the terrible secret of her pact with Ethan, made the air vanish from her lungs. She grabbed the strap of her backpack, flinging it forcefully over her shoulder.
"You don't understand anything, Landon; besides, I can defend myself just fine," she snapped, cutting off any further attempt at an explanation before turning on her heel and walking briskly down the hallway, leaving the boy planted right there without understanding a single absolute thing.
Landon twisted his face again, his brow deeply furrowed as he watched the tribrid's back disappear down the hall. What didn't he understand? That was precisely it: he didn't understand a single thing going on inside Hope's head, much less the silent storm that had begun to crumble the floor beneath his feet.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, Ethan was finishing packing up his things in his room, getting ready to head out, when the door was pushed open and he was approached by MG.
"Hey, man," MG called out in a cautious tone, keeping a safe distance.
Ethan turned calmly, raising his chin with an ironic smirk on his lips.
"What's up, man?"
"Are you... okay, man? About yesterday..." MG asked, hesitating a bit before continuing, remembering perfectly the brutal ease with which the werewolf had hoisted Rafael up by the neck.
"I'm cool, relax. Sooner or later I'll pay them back, it's all good," Ethan said, shrugging with a casual, fake disdain, perfectly concealing the true extent of his plans.
MG shook his head, clearly worried, crossing his arms.
"Yeah... I don't think that's a very good idea, man. Listen to me... I hope you don't do anything stupid. It was just Landon being jealous, seriously, don't take it so hard."
Ethan let out a nasal sigh, slowly nodding up and down while closing his eyes for a second, faking exhaustion to cut the small talk.
"Listen, man... I've got to go. I have work," Ethan cut in dryly, brushing past him toward the exit.
"Right, man... thanks," MG said, looking slightly awkward in the face of the polite rudeness.
"Thanks," Ethan replied without looking back, vanishing down the corridor with his mind focused on the next move in his private game of chess.
After completing his off-campus shift, Ethan returned to the Salvatore School in the late afternoon. The sun was beginning to set outside, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, while the fresh night breeze heralded the arrival of another day coming to a close.
As soon as he stepped into the main lobby, already planning to head straight up to the second floor to take a shower and wash off the day's exhaustion, he heard hurried footsteps and a sing-song voice calling out to him.
"Oh, hey, Ethan! How's it going?" Lizzie asked, appearing practically out of nowhere beside him with a bright, perfectly rehearsed smile.
Ethan stopped mid-stride, raising an eyebrow with a mix of amusement and caution as he looked at the blonde.
"Sure thing, Lizzie. Everything's great around here... And with you?" he replied, keeping his tone polite, but with that slightly ironic glint in his green eyes.
Lizzie adjusted the collar of her top, tossing her blonde hair back with a purposely nonchalant air, stepping a bit closer than necessary.
"Well, things are wonderful for me right now," she said, keeping her melodic voice and fixing her blue eyes on him in a way that made her intentions crystal clear. "You know how it is, the routine around this school tends to be absolute boredom... But lately, let's just say the scenery in the hallways has improved a lot. Especially after a certain someone arrived and shook things up in the cafeteria."
Ethan let out a short, amused nasal laugh. He tilted his head slightly, playing along with her banter just to see how far the blonde would actually dare to go.
"Is that so? Oh, look at that... And here I was thinking my reputation as a peaceful, gentle guy had gone down the drain after that little incident," he teased, wearing a crooked half-smile.
"Peaceful? Oh, please, Ethan!" Lizzie laughed, giving his arm a light, playful tap, seizing the chance to prolong the physical contact for a split second longer. "That was purely dramatic, pure werewolf testosterone. And between us? I love a little drama. It shows a guy has... personality. Something that's in short supply around here, if you want my opinion on the boys at this school."
She flashed an even wider smile, lightly pressing her hip against the wooden counter beside them and resting her chin in the palm of her hand, looking him up and down with brazen interest.
"But tell me... You've been spending a lot of time locked up in that room or working around the place. A mysterious guy like you shouldn't be wasting his youth. Who knows, maybe we could study together sometime? Or better yet... maybe you could let me show you the best spots in Mystic Falls far away from the headmasters' gossiping eyes? What do you say? A private tour, just the two of us."
Ethan let out a lower chuckle, shaking his head in denial, though he didn't seem the least bit bothered by the blonde's direct advance. He knew very well how Lizzie Saltzman operated: she loved attention, enjoyed flirting, and had an almost comical need to be in control of everything.
"A tempting offer, Saltzman... Seriously," he replied, keeping his tone calm and charming. "It's just that I've been kind of a homebody lately. Work, rest, and... well, let's just say I already have my own plans and complications to sort out around here."
Lizzie arched an eyebrow, feigning a hint of offense, though the smile on her lips gave away that she was loving the challenge.
"Complications? Wow, how mysterious... I love troubled boys, but you should know I have the terrible habit of solving other people's problems," she retorted, shrugging with elegance. "Anyway, think about my proposal. My invitation is still standing, little wolf. Whenever you want to escape the monotony, just look me up."
She gave another quick, charming wink, pushing her body away from the counter.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have something to do. See you later, Ethan!"
"See you later, Lizzie," he said goodbye, watching her turn on her heel and strut up the stairs with all the poise in the world.
Ethan took a deep breath, shaking his head with an ironic smile still lingering on his lips, before resuming his walk toward his own room. The pieces on the board kept moving exactly as he had foreseen, and the match had barely even begun.