This had to be a setup. Or maybe a dream. A weird one. The kind where you're at school in your underwear, except instead of embarrassment, it was dread. Dread that I was going to be dragged into something stupid again.
Ryen, of course, looked thrilled. Like a proud parent watching his antisocial child touch grass for the first time.
"See?" he said, practically bouncing. "Isn't this great? Now everyone's on board!"
Kiera clasped her hands to her chest. "We're gonna be such a fun group! I'll bring the sugar, Nora can bring the knives—"
I turned to her. "What?"
"I mean for chopping!" she added quickly, cheeks burning. "Vegetables. Or something."
I buried my face in my hands.
This was really happening.
And no matter how chaotic the day got—no matter how many puppy-dog eyes Miss Buttcheeks threw my way, or how many guilt-trips Ryen attempted—one thing remained certain:
I wasn't joining the Cooking Club.
Not because I hated cooking. Not even because I had better things to do—though I did. No, it was because I knew—deep in my soul—that joining that club would drain me mentally, emotionally, and maybe spiritually.
This whole mess? It started because of her.
The pink-haired menace with deadpan eyes and the subtle emotional range of a landmine. A walking contradiction. Quiet, cold… and terrifyingly intense.
What was her deal, anyway?
She caught me. Of course she did.
"What are you staring at?" she asked, her voice flat but pointed.
Crap. I looked too long.
"Nothing," I said quickly. "Just zoning out."
She didn't blink. "So… have you decided yet?"
There it was. That question again. Like a blade wrapped in silk.
"I'll… think about the Cooking Club," I said carefully.
It wasn't technically a lie.
I had thought about it.
And I had decided: absolutely not.
"Really? That's good," she replied, tilting her head slightly. "Then we can become closer."
Was that a friendly comment?
Hard to tell with her. Everything she said felt like it had seventeen different layers and one hidden blade.
And sure, maybe to a stranger it would've sounded sweet. Normal.
Wasn't she just trying to be nice? Aren't you overreacting, Rin?
Nora Hayes wasn't the kind of person who threw out casual lines like that. And if she was, it meant she was watching you.
Judging you. Measuring how close you were getting to Ryen.
She would come to hate me.
Because I was the type she despised the most—the kind who seemed like they were "using" Ryen. Leeching off his kindness. Getting too close.
And people like that?
They didn't get second chances.
That small, still, unreadable smile.
This distance between us—it was perfect. Safe.
Let's keep it this way.
"So you really decided to join!" Kiera practically squealed, her hands clapping together like we'd just gotten engaged or something.
Only Ryen and Kiera—bless their oblivious souls—could look at this situation and think everything was sunshine and club bonding.
They had no idea what was really happening here.
I was still not joining.
Velcrest Academy was enormous. Practically its own city. The kind of place where you could get lost just trying to find the restroom—and somehow end up in a secret fencing dojo or a necromancy study group.
So of course, there were more clubs than any sane person would expect.
Crochet Club. Pet Rock Appreciation Society. The Paranormal Investigations Unit—which, as far as I could tell, was just a bunch of drama kids with EMF detectors.
It was physically impossible to visit all of them in one day. Mentally? Even less likely.
Instead, we picked clubs that Ryen wanted to see.
Because of course we did.
"Next up is the Gardening and Herbalism Club!" he announced, like he was unveiling a theme park ride.
"I can already feel the dirt in my shoes," I muttered.
"Oh come on, Rin," Kiera said, practically skipping beside him. "It'll be good for you! Nature is healing!"
Nora walked a step behind us, silent as ever. I tried not to look, but I could feel her eyes occasionally flicking my way. Sharp. Curious. Like a cat watching a laser pointer—except the laser was me, and the cat was possibly planning my murder.
The club room for Gardening and Herbalism was tucked behind one of the old greenhouses near the back of the campus. A little too far from the main buildings. A little too quiet.
"I feel is where people go to die," I said.
Ryen laughed. "It's peaceful, not creepy!"
The scent of mint, damp soil, and suspicious incense hit me all at once.
There were pots everywhere. Herbs lined the windows. Mushrooms were growing in trays on shelves. Someone in the back was chanting to a fern.
"I think that plant just blinked at me," I whispered.
"Welcome to the Garden!" a girl in overalls beamed, emerging from behind a hanging tomato vine. Her eyes sparkled with terrifying enthusiasm. "Would you like to try our calming tea blend? It has lavender, chamomile, and a hint of soul-soothing basil!"
Ryen took the cup without hesitation.
Leona and Kiera did too.
Nora stood still. Watching. Like always.
I took mine and gave it a sniff.
Yep. That was definitely basil. And maybe something else. Something that smelled faintly like regret.
"We can teach you how to make tinctures, poultices, even healing salves!" the girl continued. "Perfect for supporting others in battle!"
Ryen looked impressed. "That's actually pretty cool!"
Kiera nodded. "Ooh, I could make soap shaped like frogs!"
I was already backing toward the door.
"Thanks," I said. "Very informative. Great vibes. Love the sentient moss. But I think my skill set lies elsewhere."
"Where?" Kiera asked.
We left the greenhouse a few minutes later, Ryen buzzing about tea, Kiera sketching frogs in her notebook, and Nora still completely unreadable, Leona just wanted a visit Swordmanship club and was silently protesting.
I was just counting down the hours until this recruitment day nightmare ended.
Because unless there was a club called "Leave Me Alone and Let Me Nap," I wasn't joining anything.
Still not joining the Cooking Club.
Ryen turned to me. "Next up, the Drama Club! They're putting on a spontaneous improv showcase!"
"Now that," I said, "sounds like a crime against humanity."