Chapter 1: Wolf’s Moon and Broken Scripts

"Give me a month, and I promise your childhood friend will be head over heels for me."

Me: That’s a tall order, but hey, good luck with that.

She had no clue that just yesterday, Carter Quinn had sent another would-be “conqueror” running for the hills. Scared them so bad they bolted out the door, pale as a ghost, literally scrambling away on all fours. Honestly, the guy’s got a screw loose.

It was almost hilarious how Carter could clear a room just by narrowing his eyes. There’s something about him that makes people instantly rethink all their life choices. If you’ve ever seen a raccoon bare its teeth at someone stealing its trash, you’ll get the vibe. Seriously, it’s that intense. I’ve seen full-grown football players turn into puddles after one of Carter’s stares.

So when someone suddenly grabbed me from behind and clapped a hand over my mouth, I was this close to flipping them over my shoulder—until I caught that familiar scent. Carter. Of course. The second I stopped struggling, he let go.

He was always pulling stunts like this—testing my reflexes or just trying to mess with me. The second I caught the whiff of Old Spice—Carter’s signature—I relaxed. He’s the only one who could get away with sneaking up on me like that. Anyone else would be eating pepper spray.

His dark eyes shimmered with a weird kind of charm under the yellow streetlights. “Maddie, aren’t you even going to try to run?”

There was this crooked little grin on his face, like he was just waiting for me to play along. The street was mostly empty, just the hum of distant traffic and the buzz of a neon sign flickering nearby. Typical night in our part of town.

He acts like he’s the reasonable one? I smirked and slid a pocketknife from my jeans. “Not running. If I hadn’t known it was you, you’d be flat on the pavement and I’d be dialing 911.”

I flicked the blade open just enough to catch the light—more for show than anything else. We’d been doing this dance since we were kids: him with the pranks, me with the comebacks. It’s our weird version of affection. Yeah, we’re messed up, but it works for us.

Carter grinned, looking absolutely delighted. “Maddie, you’re the best. You’d even save me.”

He said it like he actually believed it, like the idea of me coming to his rescue was just how things were supposed to go. His grin was all teeth, but his eyes were soft.

I know I can’t out-crazy this guy, so I changed the subject. “So, are we eating at my place or going out tonight?”

Honestly, I was already hoping for ‘out.’ Last time we ate at my place, my mom’s “experimental” chili almost burned a hole through the tablecloth.

He slung an arm around my shoulders. “Whatever you want.”

He always did this—made it sound like I was the one calling the shots, but somehow, I always ended up following his lead. His arm was heavy and warm, like a weighted blanket I never asked for but couldn’t give up. Not that I’d ever admit it.

“Let’s eat out, then. It’s your birthday—you deserve something good.”

I nudged him with my elbow. “And no, pizza from the gas station does not count as ‘something good.’”

Carter looked at me, all serious. “Did you get me a present?”

He tried to look chill, but there was that flicker of hope in his voice—like a kid on Christmas morning pretending not to care.

“When have I ever not gotten you a present?”

I rolled my eyes, but I was already plotting how to sneak the real gift into his backpack later. He’s impossible to surprise, but I keep trying.

He broke into this huge, genuine smile, all the gloom vanishing from his eyes. He pulled a lollipop from his pocket. “Here, a reward.”

He held it out like it was Olympic gold. I took it, even though I knew he probably swiped it from the bowl at the bank. Still, it’s the thought that counts.

I’d already decided we were eating out. My mom’s cooking style is pure “let fate decide.” Scrambled eggs come with bits of shell, baked salmon comes with all the bones, and even a simple salad ends up half-burnt. Her philosophy: “Kids’ll eat anything.”

One time she tried to make lasagna and ended up with something closer to cheesy soup. Even our dog, Max, wouldn’t touch it. Mom just shrugged and said, “It builds character.”

All these years, only Carter’s stomach could handle her food. He’d come over to mooch meals every day, never once complaining. When we were little, he’d cradle his empty bowl and beam with innocent gratitude. “Thank you, Mrs. Miller! Your cooking is amazing!”

He’d say it with such sincerity, you’d think he’d just been served a five-star meal. Honestly, the guy deserved an Oscar. Mom would ruffle his hair, looking at him like he hung the moon. I used to think he had a death wish, but now I realize he just wanted to belong somewhere.

Honestly, when he said that at eight years old, I knew he wasn’t ordinary. His flattery was next-level. And it worked. My mom was so pleased, she not only fed him every day but even set aside a room for him. She basically raised him as a son.

Carter had this way of making people feel like they mattered. Even when he was just a scrawny kid with too-big eyes and a mop of hair, he made everyone want to take care of him. My mom included.

I didn’t mind. Carter started out acting really obedient. Too obedient, honestly. He always let me pick snacks and toys first, taking whatever I left. Once, he even called me out to the porch when no one was around, his face totally blank. “Maddie, I stole your parents. Are you mad?”

It was one of those sticky summer nights, the kind where the air feels thick and every porch light attracts a swarm of moths. He looked so serious, standing there in his hand-me-down pajamas, like he was confessing to a crime.

I was chewing on a popsicle, looking at him like he was nuts. “Why would I be mad? My mom likes you, so she treats you well. What’s it got to do with me?”

I shrugged, letting the popsicle drip down my wrist. The idea of being jealous over Carter just never made sense to me. He was just... Carter. Always around, always family.

He stared at me for a long time before finally asking, “What about you? Do you like me?”

I remember the way the porch light flickered, how he wouldn’t meet my eyes. He was always more sensitive than he let on. I kind of wanted to tease him, but the question felt too heavy.

I thought about it. “You’re alright. Good thing you told me your test score yesterday, or I’d have forgotten my paper needed a parent’s signature.”

I tried to keep my tone light, but he looked at me like I’d just handed him a life raft. Even then, he took everything I said way too seriously.

Carter looked like he couldn’t even find the words. “You only got a 15.”

He said it like he was trying to solve a puzzle. I just shrugged, not embarrassed in the slightest. Numbers were never my thing.

“Fifteen still needs a signature. Otherwise, the math teacher’ll rap my knuckles.”

That was just the way school worked. Rules were rules, even if you barely scraped by. Besides, Carter always covered for me when I forgot stuff.

As Carter puts it, we share one brain cell—he’s got it, and I owe him rent.

He’d always say it with a straight face, but I could tell he liked having someone who didn’t care about his grades. For once, he could just be a kid, not a report card.

Carter doesn’t get it. I do have a brain! Like right now, I’m using his birthday money to take him to my favorite pizza place. Score!

Honestly, it’s the oldest trick in the book—use someone else’s cash for your cravings. But Carter never minded. He’d just watch me eat like I was the most entertaining show on TV.

Carter propped his head up with one hand. “Maddie, I met another weird person.”

He said it like he was reporting a weather change. Just another day in Carter-land.

“Maddie, since it’s my birthday, I’ll give you a secret—a secret about our world.”

He lowered his voice, making it sound all mysterious, but I was too busy picking mushrooms off my slice. Priorities, you know?

I was busy fishing mushrooms off the pizza. “Uh-huh.”

I made a face, flicking a slimy mushroom across the plate. Carter always ate the weird toppings I didn’t want. It’s our unspoken agreement.

“Hey, pay attention.” He reached over and, with perfect accuracy, stole the mushrooms from my plate onto his own.

He did it with the precision of a magician, barely breaking eye contact. If there was an Olympic event for pizza topping theft, Carter would have a gold medal. No contest.

You little thief! I stopped what I was doing. “Seriously? Spill it!”

I jabbed my fork at him, trying to look fierce. He just grinned, unfazed, as if daring me to try and take them back.

Carter looked satisfied. “Same kind of person. Came to my part-time job, said she wanted to ‘go through hard times together.’”

He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, like customers declaring their life missions was an everyday occurrence at the coffee shop.

“And?”

I leaned in, half-expecting some wild story about a latte-throwing contest or a customer meltdown.

“So I made her crank out over a hundred iced lattes. She quit on the spot from exhaustion.”

His eyes twinkled with mischief, like he was proud of his handiwork. I pictured the poor girl, hands shaking from too much espresso and regret.

Dang, over a hundred cups? That’s enough to give anyone carpal tunnel. I gave him a thumbs-up. “You’re the man.”

I tried to sound impressed, but mostly I was just glad he hadn’t made me do it. Carter’s version of revenge was always creative.

Carter snorted. “I barely know her. ‘Conqueror’—what a joke.”

He said the word like it tasted sour. Carter’s always had a radar for people with hidden agendas, and he’s never been shy about calling them out.

Since he turned fifteen, Carter’s been running into these so-called task conquerors. They act all saintly, doting on him, playing the little miss sunshine act. Different personalities, different looks, but always the same goal—and always the same ending: Carter drives them away.

It became almost a running gag between us—every few months, some new “conqueror” would show up, trying to fix him, save him, or win his heart. Carter never let them get close. He’d turn every attempt into a circus.

And as he’s gotten older, he’s gotten darker. Used to be he’d just curse them out. Now he finds ways to torment them, squeeze every bit of labor out of them, then coldly call them idiots. It’s honestly impressive… and a little scary.

Sometimes I wonder if he enjoys it, the way a cat toys with a mouse. But underneath it all, there’s a sadness he never talks about. I see it in the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention.

Carter opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something, but suddenly a group of people appeared outside the window. The leader, face full of scars, barked, “You’re Carter Quinn, right? Your dad owes us a hundred grand! Debts go to the son—pay up!”

The door swung open with a bang, and the whole restaurant went silent. Even the waitstaff froze, holding plates mid-air. My heart skipped. Carter stood up slowly, pushing his chair back with a scrape, and moved in front of me without hesitation.

The whole restaurant was startled. Carter stood up slowly, shielding me. “You guys—”

His voice was calm, but there was a steeliness in it that made the thugs hesitate. I could see his hands balling into fists at his sides, knuckles white.

“Why should he pay?” A crisp female voice cut him off, drawing everyone’s attention.

The sound was sharp, slicing through the tension. Heads turned to the entrance, where a girl stepped in like she owned the place.

A girl in a pleated skirt and pigtails, full of energy, stepped between us and the thugs.

She looked like she’d stepped out of a high school drama, but there was nothing innocent about the way she squared her shoulders. Her confidence was almost theatrical.

Carter’s voice was low. “Maddie, you’ve never worn pigtails. Wear them for me next time!”

He whispered it out of the side of his mouth, as if this was the perfect time to talk fashion. I shot him a glare.

“And I’ve never worn a pleated skirt. Want me to wear that too?”

My voice was flat, but inside I was fighting the urge to laugh. Leave it to Carter to get flustered in the middle of a shakedown.

His pale face instantly flushed. “S-sure.”

He stammered, cheeks pink. If it weren’t for the goons in the room, I would’ve teased him for hours. Instead, I just snorted.

With debt collectors breathing down his neck, and this is what he’s thinking about? This kid’s brain is seriously wired different.

Sometimes I wonder if Carter even registers danger the same way as the rest of us. Or maybe he just trusts me to handle it.

While Carter and I were bickering, the girl used her silver tongue to talk the debt collectors down. I stared, stunned. “How come those guys seem to get dumber the longer they talk to her?”

It was almost hypnotic, the way she spun her words. The thugs’ faces went from angry to confused to downright docile. I wondered if she’d slipped something in their drinks.

Carter chuckled. “Guess you’re not that dumb after all.”

He nudged me, half-teasing. For once, I didn’t have a comeback. My jaw was still on the floor.

Maybe it was my imagination, but when the girl looked back, she glanced at me with thinly veiled contempt. I blinked. “Did she just insult me with her eyes?”

I’ve seen that look before—usually from girls who think they’re the main character. It’s the look that says, “You’re in my way.”

“Yeah.” Carter nodded. “She thinks you’re tacky and ugly, and not good enough for me.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, I almost laughed. Only Carter could deliver an insult like he was reading the weather report.

…Such a pretty girl, such a nasty mouth.

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It’s always the ones who look like angels who have the sharpest tongues.

Carter can tell who the “conquerors” are for a simple reason: he can hear their thoughts. These conquerors throw themselves at him, claiming they want to “save” him. Carter’s only comment? “Idiots.”

He never bragged about it, but sometimes I caught him mouthing other people’s words before they said them. It’s like living with a mind-reading weathervane. He always knew when trouble was coming.

But this one was different. After her “beauty saves the hero” act, she flashed a dazzling smile and strode off. I looked at Carter, hesitating.

She left behind a trail of perfume and confusion. Carter’s eyes narrowed, watching her go. I could tell he was already piecing together her angle.

He smirked. “Just ask. This one’s got some skills.”

He sounded almost impressed, which was rare for Carter. Usually, he dismissed these girls with a single word.

“Do you want to know her plan, or what she was thinking before she left?”

He offered it like a party trick, but I shook my head. I was more interested in the mozzarella sticks cooling on the table.

Dead serious: “Is that last order of mozzarella sticks overcooked, and do we have enough money to order another?”

Priorities, right? Food before drama. Always.

Rubbery cheese sticks have no soul!

I poked at one with my fork, making a face. Carter rolled his eyes, but I could see the relief in his posture. I wasn’t about to get sucked into his mind games.

Carter gritted his teeth. “…Fine. I’ll order you two more baskets!”

He flagged down the server with a dramatic wave, like he was treating me to a five-star meal. I grinned, feeling victorious.

After we’d eaten our fill, we ran into some thugs on the way home. Carter’s face was blank. “I knew it.”

He said it like he’d been expecting trouble. With Carter, trouble always seems to find us, no matter where we go.

“Huh?”

I glanced around, noticing the group of guys loitering by the alley. They looked like they’d walked straight out of a bad crime show.

“They’re after me. In a minute, you run the other way—”

His voice was tense, but before he could finish, I was already pulling up my phone, thumbing through my apps at lightning speed.

Before he finished, I’d already opened my phone’s alarm app and started shouting, “Fire! Fire!”

My voice echoed down the street, bouncing off brick walls and parked cars. Within seconds, windows lit up and doors flew open. It was like setting off a fire drill in the middle of the night.

Instantly, the whole building exploded into chaos. People poured out to check. The thugs, clutching their iron rods, turned pale and slunk away.

I watched them melt into the shadows, their tough-guy act collapsing under the weight of a dozen nosy neighbors. I couldn’t help but smirk.

I grabbed a few of the neighborhood ladies and showed them the photos I’d just snapped of the thugs. “Ladies, I saw it all—they were planning to set a fire! We have to keep an eye out for them!” Judging by their faces, those punks won’t be coming near the block for a while.

The ladies clucked and fussed, already plotting their next neighborhood watch meeting. Nothing scares off trouble like a flock of retired teachers with cell phones and a sense of justice.

Carter stood quietly where he was. When he saw me coming, he slowly held out his hand. He stood in the shadows, face unreadable, but his long-fingered hand was bathed in light.

For a second, he looked so lost I almost wanted to hug him. Instead, I took his hand, squeezing it tight. His palm was cold, but his grip was steady.

I took his hand and pulled him forward. “See? That’s how you do it.”

I flashed him a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. He just shook his head, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Got it.” His voice was lazy, but he couldn’t hide his smile.

He let me lead him down the street, our shadows stretching long behind us. For a moment, everything felt normal again.

As we turned the corner, I caught a glimpse of a pleated skirt. I paused, confused. “Carter, what would you do if I wasn’t here?”

The question slipped out before I could stop it. I watched his face, searching for a real answer.

“Easy,” he said, trailing behind me. “I’d get beat up, then someone would help me with my wounds.”

He said it like it was no big deal, but I knew better. Carter hated showing weakness, even to me.

“But getting beat hurts.” I remembered how it stung getting my knuckles rapped in school.

I rubbed my arm, remembering the sting of a ruler across my knuckles. Carter just shrugged, like pain was as ordinary as breathing.

“You get used to it.”

He said it with a nonchalance that made my chest ache. No one should ever get used to pain.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re nuts. Who gets used to pain?”

I nudged him, hoping to jolt him out of his gloom. He just smirked, eyes glinting with mischief.

Carter’s smile deepened. “Did you delete those photos? There better not be any guys but me in your camera roll!”

His jealousy always came out of nowhere, like a storm blowing in on a sunny day. I groaned, already bracing for the next round of teasing.

He switched topics so fast I was speechless. “Carter, you really are crazy.”

I shook my head, but there was a fondness in my voice I couldn’t hide. He was impossible, but he was mine.

“Yup.” He nodded without shame, then jumped to the next topic. “Where’s my present?”

He looked at me expectantly, eyes shining. I dug into my pocket, rolling my eyes for effect.

I pulled a pack of antacids from my pocket. “Here, your medicine.”

I tossed it to him, half-joking. He caught it, looking at the label like it was a rare treasure.

He took them without a word, popped two, and swallowed them down. I jumped. “You actually ate them?”

I stared, half-impressed, half-worried he’d overdose on Tums. Carter just shrugged, unfazed.

He looked at me, lashes lowered. “If you give it to me, I’ll eat it. I trust you.”

He said it so softly, I almost missed it. My heart skipped, just for a second. This was a new level of weird, even for him.

“Not always a good idea,” I said seriously. “You know how careless I am. What if we both eat something expired?”

I tried to keep it light, but there was a warning buried in my words. Carter just grinned, like he knew I’d always look out for him.

“That’d be perfect.” His eyes lit up. “We could die together.”

He said it with a twisted kind of sweetness, like it was the most romantic thing he could imagine. I rolled my eyes, but my chest tightened.

What’s perfect about that?! I smacked him on the head. “Can you be normal? If we eat something bad, we’ll just get our stomachs pumped at the ER.”

I tried to sound stern, but he just grinned wider, like he’d won a prize.

He nodded obediently. “Okay. Then we’ll go to the hospital together.”

Still weird.

He said it so matter-of-factly, I almost laughed. Only Carter could turn a trip to the ER into a date.

The real present I got Carter was a lucky charm I’d bought online. Supposedly it really works. I hoped it’d help cut down on his constant “let’s die together” thoughts.

I’d read the reviews—half of them were jokes, the other half swore it brought good luck. I figured it couldn’t hurt. Carter needed all the luck he could get.

His slender, pale fingers played with the red string, and he smiled, dimples showing. “Put it on for me.”

He held out his wrist, eyes soft. I tied the charm on, making a silent wish that it would keep him safe.

I brushed his prickly hair aside and asked, “Hey, Carter, your hair’s always this long. Never thought about a new style?”

I’d always wanted to complain about his barber. For some reason, they never cut his bangs short enough to show his eyes, making him look even gloomier.

He just shrugged, like he’d never thought about it. I made a mental note to drag him to a real salon one of these days.

He chuckled. “Sure, Maddie, take me to a barber.”

He sounded amused, but I could tell he meant it. I grinned, already planning our next adventure.

We searched all over, but couldn’t find one. Weird. The street’s so busy, I take Carter here every week, but I can’t recall a single barber shop.

It was like the universe was conspiring to keep Carter’s hair exactly as it was. I joked that maybe he was cursed—doomed to live with tragic bangs forever.

Standing at the mall entrance, I felt like there was a thin veil over everything. If I pulled it back, all the noise would become something else entirely.

The air felt heavy, like I was on the edge of discovering something important. I shivered, pulling my jacket tighter.

“What are you thinking?” Carter’s voice was low.

He watched me closely, eyes searching my face for answers I didn’t have.

I didn’t move. “Carter, you’ve been saying you’d tell me a secret since you were fifteen. What is it?”

I tried to sound casual, but my heart was pounding. I’d waited years for him to open up.

“Weren’t you never curious before?” His face practically said he holds grudges. “Beg me, and I’ll consider telling you.”

He pouted, crossing his arms like a kid denied dessert. I rolled my eyes, refusing to give in.

I shrugged. “Not curious anymore. Let you stew.”

I stuck out my tongue, turning away. Carter stomped his foot, sulking.

It was childish, but I couldn’t help but laugh. Sometimes he really was just a kid in a grown-up’s body.

The next day, the class was buzzing—apparently a beautiful transfer student was coming. And she was. It was the pleated skirt girl who’d helped us before. She smiled brightly. “Hi, everyone, I’m Sierra Lane. Please be nice to me.”

She stood at the front of the classroom, sunlight catching in her hair, radiating confidence. The room practically vibrated with excitement.

I instinctively glanced at Carter, who was sleeping on his desk. His lashes fluttered, and as he opened his eyes, his smile in the sunlight was tinged with coldness. “Figures—she followed me all the way here. Annoying.”

He muttered it under his breath, but I caught the edge in his voice. He didn’t like surprises, especially not ones that wore pleated skirts.

I warned him, “Don’t get too cocky, or you’ll get called out.”

I nudged him, trying to keep things light. Carter just smirked, like he knew something I didn’t.

Meanwhile, Sierra walked over to Carter, all smiles. “Hey! Those guys didn’t give you any trouble after last time, did they?” She made small talk, then sat right in front of him.

She made it look effortless, sliding into the seat like she belonged there. Of course she did.

Carter didn’t answer, just turned to look at me, half-smiling. Okay, I zipped it.

I shrugged, pretending to be absorbed in my notebook. I could feel the stares from all around the room.

People whispered, just loud enough for us to hear:

“The transfer student knows Carter?”

“No way! He never mentioned her.”

“Please, you’ve barely spoken to him in three years. Better ask Maddie Miller—she’s the only one he talks to.”

“One Maddie, one Sierra. Their names are kinda similar.”

…

The whispers swirled around us, growing louder. I rolled my eyes, wishing I could disappear into my hoodie. High school, am I right?

I was eavesdropping, only to meet Sierra’s gaze. She straightened up, looking at me with cool, dismissive eyes, like I was beneath her.

It was the kind of look that made you want to check if you had something on your face. I just glared back, refusing to flinch.

Suddenly, Carter stood up, grabbed my arm, and dragged me outside, not caring how many desks and chairs he knocked over.

Chairs scraped, pencils rolled, and the teacher barely blinked. Guess even he’s seen weirder.

He pulled me all the way to the rooftop.

The wind was stronger up there, whipping my hair around my face. Carter let go of my arm, pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

“Stay away from that girl.”

His tone was sharp, almost desperate. I blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his eyes.

“Huh?” I was completely thrown.

I crossed my arms, waiting for him to explain. Carter ran a hand through his hair, looking more rattled than I’d ever seen him.

He frowned. “Maddie, you trust me, right?”

He never asks unless he’s really scared.

“That transfer student—when she looked at you, she must’ve thought something, but all I heard was static. It’s probably being blocked.”

His voice was low, almost a whisper. I shivered, feeling the weight of his words settle over me.

I’d never seen Carter like this. Not even when his mom tried to jump off the roof with him after a fight—he’d never been this panicked, not even as a kid.

He was always the one holding it together, no matter how bad things got. Seeing him this shaken scared me more than any threat.

When I didn’t reply, he clutched his lucky charm. “Maddie, if I’m lying to you, may I—”

He started to say something, but I cut him off, not wanting to hear the rest.

I cut him off. “Enough! Ever heard of science? Besides, I never said I didn’t trust you.”

I tried to sound annoyed, but my voice was softer than I meant it to be. Carter relaxed, just a little.

On his fifteenth birthday, Carter met his first “conqueror.” He never told me the details—just sat in a corner holding me all night. By morning, I felt the dampness on my neck. He didn’t even make a sound when he cried.

I remembered the way his arms trembled around me, how he clung to me like I was the only thing keeping him afloat. I never asked what happened. I just let him hold on.

I nodded. “I believe you.”

I said it quietly, but I meant it. Carter let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging.

When Carter talked about conquerors and hearing thoughts, I never pushed. I know his personality. If he hadn’t learned something important, if he didn’t know how to tell me, he’d never keep secrets from me.

I trusted him, even when his stories sounded like something out of a sci-fi movie. That’s just what you do for the people you love.

But Sierra seemed determined to be my friend. During lunch break, when Carter went to buy water, she sidled up to me, waggling her brows.

She plopped down next to me, flashing a smile that was a little too bright. I braced myself for whatever game she was about to play. Here we go again.

“So, where did Carter drag you off to just now?”

She leaned in, voice low and conspiratorial, like we were sharing a secret. I pretended to be focused on my math homework.

“You two are so close. I heard you’re childhood friends. I’m jealous. What kind of girl do you think Carter likes?”

Her voice was sugary, but her eyes were sharp. I kept my gaze on the page, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

I kept my head down, working on math problems. “Quiet ones.”

I didn’t look up, but I could feel her glare. For once, I was grateful for calculus.

Her chirpy voice faltered, her gaze sharp as a needle, but she quickly smiled again. “You’re pretty funny, Maddie.”

She tried to laugh it off, but I could see the annoyance simmering beneath the surface.

“My parents split when I was little. I’ve always been alone. I heard Carter’s family is the same. We’re the same kind of people, don’t you think?”

She was laying it on thick, hoping I’d open up. I just shrugged, offering her a Sour Patch Kid from my lunch bag.

She was starting to get on my nerves. “Are you okay? Want a Sour Patch Kid?”

I held out the bag, hoping she’d take the hint and leave. No such luck.

“The SAT’s in thirty days, and you transfer now just to see if you and Carter are compatible?”

I couldn’t help it. The words slipped out, sharper than I intended. She froze, caught off guard.

Sierra froze, then suddenly raised her voice, looking aggrieved. “Maddie, I really want to be friends. Even if you don’t like me, you shouldn’t slander me.”

She looked around, making sure everyone could hear. I groaned, knowing where this was headed.

I’d just solved a math problem and my head was spinning. “What are you talking about? You’re harder to deal with than calculus.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, wishing I could disappear. Drama queens are the worst.

God, math is hard enough. Why do I have to deal with weirdos too?

I muttered it under my breath, hoping she’d get bored and move on.

“I have been hanging out with Carter a lot, but there’s a reason!” She looked pleadingly at Carter at the door, then at me, eyes red. “We’re just friends. Please don’t target me, I’m begging you.”

She put on the waterworks, dabbing at imaginary tears. I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.

I was speechless. “I’m begging you, too—can you leave me out of your drama?”

I tossed my pencil onto the desk, done with the conversation. The class was eating it up, whispering behind their hands.

I’d promised myself I’d finish this whole page of math problems while Carter was gone. Thanks to Sierra, I’d only done one. I was furious! Math: 1, Maddie: 0.

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to snap. Drama always finds me, even when I’m just trying to survive pre-calc.

Classmates exchanged looks and started blaming me.

“Sierra is so nice—if she’s crying, Maddie must’ve said something.”

“Sierra and Carter have been close lately. Maddie must be jealous.”

“If I were Carter, I’d like someone lively like Sierra. Maddie always has her nose in a workbook—so dull.”

…

The whispers grew louder, each one a little dagger. I pretended not to care, but my hands shook as I erased a wrong answer.

They were talking so loudly, like I was deaf. I clenched my teeth, ready to throw down, but Carter set a drink on my desk. “Drink up.”

He placed it gently, like he was defusing a bomb. I looked up, meeting his steady gaze. He always knew when to step in.

Then he straddled the desk, looking down at Sierra. “So, what did Maddie say about you?”

His tone was cold, all trace of his usual warmth gone. Sierra shrank back, eyes darting between us.

Sierra glanced at me, like she had no choice. “Maddie said, since I’m so close to you, maybe I like you.”

She said it with a quiver in her voice, playing the victim for all she was worth. I gaped, stunned.

I gaped. “Are you delusional? Making stuff up now?”

My voice was louder than I meant. The class fell silent, all eyes on us.

Carter couldn’t help laughing, then put a hand to my forehead. “Shh, Maddie, don’t make me laugh.”

He ruffled my hair, a real smile breaking through. For a second, the tension melted away.

He turned to Sierra, who looked upset. “Did Maddie really say that?”

He pinned her with a stare, daring her to lie. Sierra wilted under his gaze.

“Yeah,” Sierra kept up the act, wiping tears. “Maybe I’ve been too close to you. I know you two are close. If Maddie misunderstands, it’s…”

She trailed off, waiting for sympathy. Carter just raised an eyebrow.

“Then why are you still here?”

His words were sharp, cutting through the act. Sierra’s mouth fell open.

Her sobbing stopped. “What?”

She looked genuinely confused, as if she’d never been dismissed before.

“I don’t want Maddie to misunderstand, either. So go. Stay away from me.” Carter waved her off like she was bad luck.

He flicked his hand, turning his back on her. The class gasped, but no one dared to argue.

Sierra tried to protest. “But I…”

She reached out, but Carter just shook his head, done with the conversation.

Carter cut her off. “Just leave.”

His tone was final. Sierra gathered her things, face burning, and fled the room.

Then he sat back down and focused on my math. “Why’ve you only done a few? Didn’t I tell you not to waste time on pointless people? They don’t study, talk nonsense, and only drag you down.”

He spoke loudly enough for the whole class to hear. I grinned, grateful for his bluntness.

Wow, why not just read out her student ID number while you’re at it?

I muttered it under my breath, but Carter just smirked, nudging me to get back to work.

I was so focused on my problems, I didn’t notice Sierra’s furious, hateful glare. But I could feel Carter’s body tense, his hand clenched into a fist, veins bulging. That’s how he gets when he’s holding back.

I glanced at his hand, then at his face. He was trying so hard to keep it together. I reached out, squeezing his fist until he relaxed.

I instinctively grabbed his hand. “Carter, you…”

He squeezed back, lacing his long fingers through mine. “If you don’t finish tonight, I’m taking the drink money from your allowance.”

He grinned, knowing I’d never let him win that easily. I groaned, but I couldn’t hide my smile. He’s impossible, but he’s my impossible.

Demon! I had to finish the whole test one-handed.

I scribbled answers furiously, Carter’s hand warm in mine. For once, I didn’t mind the extra challenge.

That night, Carter slept in the room next to mine, as usual. In the middle of the night, he knocked on my door. The warm yellow light shone on his dark hair as he leaned against the doorframe, his whole figure softened by the glow.

He looked so small, standing there in his pajama pants, hair sticking up in every direction. I rubbed my eyes, waiting for him to speak. He looked about twelve.

I rubbed my eyes. “What, did you OD on salt?”

I teased, trying to lighten the mood. Carter just grinned, rubbing the back of his neck.

I knew my mom messed up the pot roast today, swapping sugar for salt, but Carter still claimed it was delicious and ate a huge bowl, making my mom so happy she promised to make it again tomorrow.

He’d eaten enough to make himself sick, but he never complained. My mom was already planning next week’s menu.

Carter chuckled. “No. I had a nightmare, so I came to check on you.”

His voice was soft, almost embarrassed. I blinked, surprised by his honesty.

I didn’t see the connection, but he looked down, tugging my sleeve. “Maddie, let’s go out and play!”

He looked up, eyes pleading. I couldn’t say no, not when he looked at me like that.

Who could say no to that? Not me. So, in the middle of the night, Carter took me on his motorcycle up to the observatory.

The ride was cold, the wind biting at my cheeks. Carter drove fast, weaving through empty streets. I held on tight, feeling more alive than I had in weeks.

He took off his helmet, one foot on the ground, chin resting on my shoulder, his breath warm against my ear in the cool night air. Weirdly comforting.

We stood in silence, the city lights twinkling below us. Carter’s hand found mine, fingers lacing together.

“Maddie, do you know that star?”

He pointed up, his voice low. I followed his gaze, squinting at the night sky.

I was wary. “You didn’t drag me out here just to quiz me on astronomy, did you?”

I nudged him with my shoulder, half-joking. Carter just grinned, eyes shining.

Carter laughed, low and sticky-sweet. “Kiss me and I’ll tell you.”

He leaned in, his breath warm on my cheek. I rolled my eyes, but my heart raced.

I rattled off every star I could name. He shook his head. “Nope. It’s Wolf’s Moon.”

He said it with a straight face, like he was sharing a secret only we understood. Classic Carter.

I blinked. “That can’t be—we can’t see Wolf’s Moon in May.”

I frowned, trying to remember what I’d learned in science class. Carter just grinned, pleased with himself.

“Not so dumb after all.” He flicked my forehead. His gaze drifted to the night sky, suddenly cold. “Even you know that, but they got it wrong.”

His tone shifted, turning somber. I shivered, feeling the weight of his words.

Was he shading me? I rolled my eyes. “Guess they’re not so smart.”

I tried to keep things light, but Carter’s eyes stayed on the stars.

“You know who I’m talking about?”

He watched me closely, searching for understanding. I shrugged, pretending not to care.

“No idea.” I shrugged. “Did I insult the wrong person?”

I grinned, but Carter didn’t smile back. He just shook his head, looking tired.

He chuckled, all his gloom gone. “Nope. Maddie’s so good.”

He ruffled my hair hard. I gritted my teeth. “Are you petting a dog?”

I tried to swat his hand away, but he just laughed, pulling me closer.

He shook his head and leaned his head into my palm, serious. “No. I’m your wolf, Maddie. Will you pet me?”

His eyes were serious, almost pleading. I sighed, giving in.

What kind of crazy talk is that? Shut up!

I gave in and patted his head twice. He looked so content, I was resigned to my fate.

He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. For a moment, he looked at peace.

After a while, Carter finally spoke. “Maddie, want to know the secret behind Wolf’s Moon?”

He looked at me, eyes shining. I yawned, half-asleep.

I was half-asleep, everything else forgotten. “What star?”

I mumbled, head resting on his shoulder. Carter just smiled, shaking his head.

He grinned. “I envy your bad memory—must be nice not to worry.”

He said it softly, almost wistful. I frowned, not sure if it was a compliment or an insult.

…Carter, your insults are getting subtle.

I stuck my tongue out at him. He just laughed, pulling me closer.

“Maddie, remember when I was obsessed with video games in middle school?”

His voice was quiet, like he was sharing a secret. I nodded, remembering the endless hours spent at the arcade.

I did. Back then, he was always at the arcade. I thought he was about to go full rebel. But after pulling two all-nighters with him, I was coughing from secondhand smoke, and he dragged me out. He never skipped class for the arcade again.

I remembered the way he’d drag me out at midnight, our pockets full of quarters and lungs full of smoke. Those nights felt endless, like we could outrun anything.

“In games, to make things more fun, they create NPCs—set paths, set lines, sometimes even backstories and branching plots.”

He spoke softly, almost to himself. I watched him, trying to follow his train of thought.

“Maddie, that’s us.”

He mouthed the word “NPC.”

The word hung in the air, heavier than I expected. I waited for him to explain.

Then he pointed at a trash can by the road, tossing a math test from his backpack into it. I watched as it vanished instantly. “This proves it. I forget which player told me, but this trash can is like a data clearing bin.”

He counted down. “Three, two, one.”

He watched the trash can like it held all the answers. I held my breath, waiting.

At midnight, the test reappeared. “Anything outside the set program resets. Looks like magic, right? Maddie, our world is full of glitches.”

His eyes were wild, almost feverish. I shivered, unsure what to believe.

“But I bet they never thought I could hear players’ thoughts, and use that to find loopholes.”

He looked at me, daring me to call him crazy. I just squeezed his hand, refusing to let go.

He watched me closely for my reaction. I took a deep breath and, seeing his anxious face, sneezed.

The tension broke. Carter blinked, then laughed, shaking his head.

He frowned, taking off his jacket and buttoning it up for me. “I know this is hard to take in, but I—”

His jacket smelled of detergent and his warmth. I grabbed his hand. “What’s your ending?”

I met his eyes, searching for hope. Carter looked away, biting his lip.

If all those conquerors are players, what’s the game’s end for Carter?

He looked down, squeezing my hand. “I don’t know. When it comes to this stuff, all I hear is static. But I have a feeling…”

He trailed off. “Maddie, don’t be scared. I won’t let them hurt you.”

His voice dropped lower, trembling in the mountain breeze. “I don’t care what those players are, or if this world is real or fake. As long as we’re together, that’s enough.”

He leaned into my shoulder, hair falling over his eyes, wrapping himself around me like he wanted to melt into me. “As long as I can die with you, that’s enough.”

Here we go again. I patted his back, exasperated. “Stop with the death talk. Twenty bucks fine—you owe me a caramel macchiato.”

Justice served.

Carter pouted. “You’re not even surprised. I wasted all my lines.”

He looked genuinely hurt, but I just grinned, poking his cheek.

“Let’s hear them, then.” I was curious what this zero-in-English guy had come up with.

He went quiet, just hugging me and watching the stars. The night wind blew, I was wrapped in warmth, and soon I drifted off.

I felt his arms tighten around me, his breath even and steady. For once, I let myself relax, trusting him to keep me safe.

Before I fell asleep, I heard his low voice. “With you here, this world is real.”

His words echoed in my dreams, soft and sure. I smiled, even as sleep pulled me under.

I didn’t know what Carter did, but Sierra got more and more agitated. Several times, I caught her watching me from the shadows, then she cornered me by the stairs.

She blocked my path, arms crossed, eyes cold. I braced myself for another round of games.

She sized me up. “Why aren’t you on the leaderboard?”

She said it like it was the most natural question in the world. I just shrugged, channeling my inner Carter.

I imitated Carter’s usual dead-eyed look and glanced at her. “None of your business.”

My voice was flat, but inside I was itching to push back harder.

She relaxed. “So you’re a cheating player! I knew this game had bugs. Spill it, how’d you get the Maddie Miller role?”

She leaned in, voice low. I stared back, unflinching.

I thought she meant the grades ranking. “Born lucky.”

I tried to keep it light, but Sierra’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t buying it.

But she totally misunderstood. Her face turned cold. “Think you can do whatever you want in-game just because you’re rich? Even with Maddie’s identity, you’ll never conquer Carter. You won’t even make it to the SATs. The system won’t let you win.”

She spat the words like a curse, her anger barely contained.

“Carter is impossible to deal with.” Sierra leaned in, conspiratorial. “Look, you’re not going to live long anyway. Help me get Carter. All the players have zero favorability, but if I can get just one percent, I’ll win the prize money—and I’ll split it with you. I know you don’t need money, so I’ll use your name. You’ll be the top player. Deal?”

She dangled the offer like a carrot, eyes gleaming with greed. I just stared, unimpressed.

I stared at her calculating face. “Conquer one NPC and you’re famous?”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

“You know no one’s ever succeeded with Carter. I think the character’s just broken. His parents always fighting, his mom mentally ill, threatening to die together… people like that are usually messed up, too. The more I interact with him, the creepier he gets. If the reward wasn’t so big, I wouldn’t bother.”

She rattled off Carter’s tragedies like they were plot points in a game. My blood boiled.

After venting, she got close again. “If you don’t cooperate, I’ll report you for cheating. Think it over.”

She flashed a smug smile, certain she had me cornered. I just gripped my knife tighter.

“If I die in this world, do I really die?”

I asked it quietly, watching her face for any sign of doubt.

She frowned. “Players don’t die. You just get kicked out and can’t come back…”

Her voice faltered, eyes widening as she realized what was coming.

Before she could finish, her eyes widened. I calmly pulled the knife from her chest. “Even better. Tell all the players—get out of my world.”

The words felt final, echoing in the empty hallway. Sierra vanished, like a bad memory erased.

Sierra disappeared like a drop of water in the sea. No one remembered her except Carter.

The world shifted, settling back into place. I felt lighter, freer.

That night, he climbed in my window with a caramel macchiato and a new knife. After what Sierra said, I knew why all those conquerors disappeared. But I don’t think Carter expected me to take action.

He perched on the windowsill, eyes wide with surprise. I sipped my coffee, waiting for him to speak.

He propped his head up. “What did she say?”

His voice was soft, almost afraid of the answer.

I sipped my drink. “You first. Anything else you’re hiding from me?”

I met his gaze, daring him to lie. Carter hesitated, biting his lip.

He bit his lip. “I…”

He looked away, guilt written all over his face.

“Think carefully. You promised at twelve you’d never lie to me.”

I reminded him, voice gentle. He nodded, swallowing hard.

Of course, I edited that a bit. Back then, he said: “You’re so dumb, you can’t tell good from bad. Just trust me. I’ll never lie to you.”

I smiled, remembering the way he’d said it, so sure of himself. Even then, he’d been looking out for me.

And I do trust him. Whether it’s conquerors or game worlds—if he says it, I believe it.

He relaxed, letting out a shaky breath. For once, the weight seemed to lift from his shoulders.

Carter lifted his shirt, showing scars old and new. The result of his parents’ broken marriage and a childhood full of pain.

He didn’t flinch, letting me see every mark. I reached out, tracing the lines gently.

“All that suffering was just a plotline, just to make it easier for players to conquer me. Maddie, why? Why do they get to sit above it all, using my pain for their sympathy?”

His voice trembled, raw with anger and hurt. I squeezed his hand, wishing I could erase every scar.

His voice trembled. “I don’t know what’s going on. But they said my future doesn’t have you in it.”

He looked at me, desperate for reassurance. I pulled him close, refusing to let go.

“That’s impossible. You said you’d stay with me forever. Even if the world abandons me, you won’t leave, right?”

I whispered it, voice fierce. Carter nodded, eyes shining with unshed tears.

He was asking, but his arms tightened like a wolf closing in. I knew, if I said no, all his calm would shatter into obsession.

He clung to me, trembling. I stroked his hair, trying to soothe him.

I whispered, “Carter, loosen up. I want my coffee.”

I tried to sound annoyed, but my heart ached for him. He loosened his grip, just a little.

He reluctantly let go, sitting nearby and watching my every move like a wolf guarding its den.

He watched me with a hunger that had nothing to do with food. I sipped my coffee, pretending not to notice.

I cuddled up with my drink. “Open up or you’ll crush me.”

He scooted back, looking sheepish. I grinned, patting the space next to me.

He froze, moving awkwardly. I could hear his pounding heart and see his red eyes.

He wiped at his eyes, trying to hide the tears. I pretended not to notice, giving him space to breathe.

The first conqueror showed up when he was fifteen. He’s known this world was fake since then.

He never said it out loud, but I could see the knowledge weighing on him. It changed him, made him wary.

I held the straw to his lips. “Here, it’s sweet.”

He took a sip, eyes never leaving mine. I smiled, hoping it was enough.

This world’s been cruel to him. He’s suffered enough.

I promised myself I’d never let anyone hurt him again—not even the so-called players.