(Dillon’s POV)
I stared out the window, watching the mist swirl lazily over the trees as the bus rumbled down the highway. It was that kind of fog that felt thick enough to swallow you whole, like something out of an old horror movie. A few of my frat brothers were up front, making noise, throwing jokes back and forth like they didn’t have a care in the world. My lips twitched, but the smile never fully formed. I just wasn’t in the mood to join in.
My phone lit up again—Samantha. Hey babe! You okay?
I sighed, my thumb hovering over the screen. I could picture her right now, probably sitting on her dorm bed, legs crossed, waiting for my reply like she always did. She’d been texting me all morning—nothing heavy, just little check-ins. I liked Samantha. She was nice, smart, and all my friends thought she was hot. But there was always this weird feeling I couldn’t shake, like something was missing between us. I didn’t know what it was, but it left me restless.
I shoved the phone into my jacket pocket, ignoring the twinge of guilt that flared in my gut. “Yeah, I’m good,” I muttered to myself, even though no one asked.
Leaning back against the bus seat, I let my gaze drift over the rows of students. Most of them were caught up in conversation—laughing, arguing, or dozing off with their heads pressed against the cold windows. It was a mix of marine biology students, all excited to get their hands dirty at Harbor’s Edge, where the coastline teemed with rare sea life and untapped research. This was supposed to be exciting.
But all I could feel was this nagging sense that something was off.
And then there was Joshua Flinn. My eyes flicked to the back of the bus, landing on him like they always did. He was slouched low in his seat, earbuds in, his jaw clenched tight like he was ready to fight the world at any moment. His dark hair fell in messy waves over his eyes, and his whole demeanor screamed fuck off—you don’t know my life.
We didn’t know each other well, even though we were in the same frat—Kappa Delta Theta. Joshua was a senior, a chemistry major, and apparently some sort of genius. But he didn’t have the social ease that usually came with it. I always figured he had a chip on his shoulder, a defensive shield built up from a life I couldn’t even begin to understand. He wasn’t one of those guys from money, but he had the kind of anger that made you think life hadn’t been kind.
We didn’t talk. Hell, we barely even acknowledged each other. But every now and then, I’d catch him looking at me from across the room in the frat house, eyes sharp, like he was studying me, waiting for me to slip up. I never did, though. I’d perfected the art of looking like everything was fine, even when it wasn’t.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to shake off the heavy silence in my mind. The conversation up front felt distant, like it was happening in another room. I forced myself to tune back in just as my frat brother, Matt, threw out some crude joke about mermaids and marine biology.
“You gonna try to hook up with some sea nymphs, Dillon ?” Matt grinned, his beer belly jiggling with the effort. “Or are you saving yourself for Sam?”
I forced a laugh, the sound hollow in my chest. “Right, because that’s what I came for. Field research and sea babes. You cracked the code, Matt.”
He barked out a laugh and slapped me on the back, oblivious to the fact that my mind was miles away. My phone buzzed again, but I didn’t bother checking it. Another text from Samantha would only make me feel worse. The more she checked in, the more I realized I didn’t feel the same way anymore.
It wasn’t that I didn’t care about her—I did. But there was this gaping void where there should’ve been something more. Whenever we kissed, I found myself going through the motions, my mind elsewhere. The problem was, I didn’t know where that ‘elsewhere’ was or why it gnawed at me every time we were together.
The bus jolted to the side suddenly, veering off the main road as the mist grew thicker around us. The once-clear skies now looked choked with low-hanging clouds, their grayness pressing down like a heavy blanket.
“Why are we turning?” someone asked from behind me, a tinge of confusion in their voice.
My stomach flipped uneasily as the bus rattled over the narrow road. I could hear the crunch of gravel beneath the tires, the way the fog seemed to swallow us whole. The trees grew denser here, their branches stretching across the road like skeletal fingers.
What the hell is going on? I thought, sitting up straighter in my seat. I wasn’t the only one noticing it—students around me started murmuring, some glancing out the windows with nervous expressions.
From the back, Joshua’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “This isn’t right.”
My head snapped back, catching sight of his scowl. He wasn’t looking out the window anymore—he was staring straight ahead, his body tense, as if ready to bolt. For the first time, I noticed how hard his jaw was set, the veins in his neck pulsing with agitation.
“We’re supposed to be on the highway,” Joshua muttered under his breath, pulling out his earbuds and stuffing them in his pocket.
The road beneath us grew rougher, the fog thicker until I could barely see the outlines of trees anymore. I wasn’t the type to freak out, but something about this sudden detour set every nerve in my body on edge. A slow panic began to creep in. The bus shouldn’t be here.
The driver mumbled something about a “shortcut,” but I wasn’t buying it. A shortcut to where? The bus felt like it was being pulled deeper into the mist, like there was no going back. And then, just as suddenly, the engine groaned and the bus came to a halt.
“What the fuck?” someone near the front said, standing up and peering into the fog. “Why’d we stop?”
The driver muttered again, this time louder. “Something’s wrong with the engine.”
Great. Just what we needed.
My heart rate spiked as I shifted nervously in my seat. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just a simple field trip, right? A week on the coast, studying sea creatures, collecting data. No one mentioned a stop in the middle of some creepy fog-covered road.
My phone buzzed again, but I ignored it. All I could think about was the unsettling quiet that had fallen over the bus, the thick fog outside that seemed too dense to be natural.
Joshua was already on his feet, moving toward the front of the bus like he was ready to do something about it. I watched as he passed me, our eyes meeting briefly, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something behind his guarded expression.
Fear.
I wasn’t the only one feeling it.
I swallowed hard, my stomach flipping as I looked out into the endless mist. Something was about to happen. I could feel it.
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