Oakridge High thrummed with danger—gangs, egos, fights, reputations sharp enough to cut. But no threat spread faster than a rumor. By morning, Aarvin realized something terrifying: everyone knew his name. Not for skill, not for talent, not for courage. Because he was the boy who made Liam stumble… and the brother of Riyan Hale, a name heavy enough to bend the school's very atmosphere.
**Eyes Everywhere**
As Aarvin stepped into the hallway, dozens of eyes snapped toward him—curious, impressed, calculating, some wary. He kept walking, shoulders tight, fists clenched, straining to drown out the whispers.
"That's him…"
"The Hale kid…"
"Looks harmless, but—"
"Don't mess. Riyan will kill you."
Each word stabbed deeper than the last. Aarvin wasn't strong. He wasn't fearless. He wasn't ready. Yet here he was—trapped in a storm he never asked for.
**Naomi Watching**
At his locker, Aarvin spotted her—Naomi Lane. Leaning against the wall, quiet, observant. She didn't stare, but she wasn't ignoring him either. It was worse—like being studied, measured, analyzed. A puzzle piece that didn't fit anywhere.
He looked away. He did not need Riyan's closest confidante adding scrutiny to the chaos.
**Wolves in the Hallway**
Then they arrived. Six figures moved through the hall like a silent storm; students instinctively parted. At the front, Zane Lockhart, their calm, unreadable leader, spared Aarvin a single glance—not judgmental, not approving—something like interest. Aarvin's stomach tightened. Liam wasn't with them; his jaw likely still swollen. The rest of the Wolves' eyes followed Aarvin, calculating, measuring, trying to see the truth beneath the rumor.
**An Unwanted Confrontation**
Aarvin hurried toward class, only to be blocked by a student he barely knew.
"Hey… Aarvin, right?" the boy asked, voice low, nervous.
Aarvin nodded, uneasy.
"Can I ask… is it true? Did you really hit Liam?"
Aarvin froze. Around them, students slowed, ears straining. The pressure suffocated him.
"I didn't mean to," he whispered. "He… cornered me and—"
"So you fought back," the boy pressed.
"I… panicked," Aarvin admitted.
But the hall had already twisted his words.
"He admitted it."
"He actually fought."
"Riyan's brother isn't weak after all—"
Aarvin wanted to scream. He didn't fight. He didn't win. He didn't want any of this. But Oakridge didn't care about truth—it cared about the story that made the loudest noise.
**Riyan Arrives**
Then the hallway went silent. Completely. Riyan Hale walked through the corridor like a shadow that couldn't be escaped. Eyes locked on Aarvin instantly.
"Not again," Aarvin whispered.
Riyan stopped before him. "Told you to stay close," he said quietly.
"I… didn't think—" Aarvin tried.
"You never think," Riyan snapped, voice low but charged with controlled frustration. He placed a hand on Aarvin's shoulder—firm, undeniable, and visible to all.
"If anyone touches him," Riyan said, voice deadly, "I'll handle it."
A ripple of fear swept through the students. Zane's eyebrow arched, calculating. Naomi's gaze remained unreadable.
**A Name That Isn't Yours**
As the crowd dispersed, Aarvin dared to whisper, "Why are you doing this?"
Riyan looked down at him, expression softening only slightly. "Because you're my brother."
Aarvin's throat tightened. "I don't want this reputation."
"You don't get to choose," Riyan replied. *"Your name chooses for you."*
A chill ran down Aarvin's spine. For the first time, he understood: being a Hale wasn't protection. It was a burden, a chain, a curse. He could run, hide, plead—but he could not escape it.
And for the first time, Aarvin realized that Oakridge High didn't just see him. It had claimed him.
*To be continued…*