Chapter Text
The first time you saw Nathan Prescott, it was beneath Arcadia Bay’s relentless sun. He sat on the fountain’s edge, soaking in the warmth like he owned it—like he owned the whole courtyard. His clique gathered around him, claiming space without ever asking for it.
You’d been dragged to Blackwell for a “fresh start.” What a joke. Leaving L.A.—the beaches, the noise, the version of yourself that actually felt alive, had felt like the end of everything. Arcadia Bay wasn’t unbearable, though. You’d carved out a small space for yourself. A few almost-friends. A reputation just noticeable enough. You knew who to avoid and who to hand homework answers to.
You didn’t mind being alone. You ate alone. Walked to class alone.
…Okay, that sounded a little pathetic.
But there were moments—like now—when you wished someone walked beside you. Walking past Nathan and his entourage required strategy. Eye contact was dangerous.
Victoria Chase stood at his side, polished and poisonous. The kind of girl who smiled sweetly in the hallway and posted humiliation online an hour later. You’d earned a thin layer of respect after defending her in class once, but that didn’t stop the side comments. Arm-in-arm with her was Taylor—soft-spoken, kinder when separated from the group. You chose to believe that version of her was real.
Hayden lingered near Nathan too, sometimes drifting back to his football friends. You’d ghosted him after he flirted with you your first week at Blackwell. Awkward, but survivable. He and Nathan didn’t talk much—they just shared smoke and recklessness at parties, speeding down empty roads like they were untouchable.
You told yourself you were just observing.
Then you realized you were staring.
And he noticed.
Nathan’s gaze locked onto yours—cold, deliberate, glacial blue. Not curious. Not amused. Assessing. The kind of stare that didn’t just look at you, but through you.
Your body reacted before your brain did. Fight or flight. Unfortunately, yours specialized in flight.
You turned sharply and walked straight back toward the dorms you’d just left, heat rising to your face, his frostbitten stare still burning between your shoulders.