Sebastian stood just inside the cafeteria, arms folded, eyes sweeping across the chaos like a general surveying a battlefield. Fluorescent lights flickered above with the enthusiasm of a dying star, the smell of reheated meat and teenage hormones thick enough to weaponize.
Ah, high school.
He observed the cliques like rare fauna. Jocks flung fires at each other with the grace of poorly trained baboons. Goths clustered like crows in a graveyard, pretending their eyeliner gave them supernatural insight. And of course, the "normals"- a wild, chaotic flock who believed small talk about TV shows qualified as cultural discourse.
And then there were them,
The Cullens.
They sat at a table like it had been ordained by the divine. Too symmetrical. To polished. Like Vogue sent them here to colonize public school.
Emmett, to his credit, was the only one who seemed like he hadn't been sculpted in a Calvin Klein factory. He waved enthusiastically the moment he spotted Sebastian in the crowd.
Sebastian offered a tiny two-finger salute in return, then casually turned and made his way toward the food line. Not because he was trying to be cool, but because he'd glimpsed what the cafeteria was serving and felt compelled, morally, spiritually, to assess the culinary damage firsthand.
He grabbed a tray with the enthusiasm of a man accepting a dare and examined the options.
"Lasagna" that looked like it had survived a natural disaster. "Salad" that was mostly iceberg lettuce and disappointment. And "milk" in a carton so old it might qualify as a fossil.
He sighed, then selected the least offensive items and turned towards the seating minefield.
"Alright, buddy," he muttered under his breath, "time to make a political statement with where you plant your rear."
As he scanned the options, he felt a few eyes on him. Not unusual. He was new. Mysterious. Possibly unhinged. Definitely overdressed for this level of social farce.
And yet… something tugged at him. Not physically. No one dared. But in the back of his mind, like a compass needle quivering toward true north, he felt it.
Her.
Alice was somewhere behind him, eyes boring into his back like twin beams of anxious curiosity. He could almost hear her thoughts, part intrigue, part hunger, and just a pinch of glittery murder.
He smiled to himself.
Then Emmett made his move.
"Yo!" he shouted across the room with the subtlety of a marching band. "Sebastian! Over here, man!"
Heads turned. Whispers sparkled. The new kid being summoned by one of the Cullens? That was practically high school heresy.
Sebastian, ever the showman, raised an eyebrow, cocked his head, and took a long, dramatic bite of his lasagna. The kind of bite that said, " I'm fully prepared to risk gastrointestinal collapse to maintain this illusion of power."
Then he strolled over, tray in hand, and dropped into the open seat next to Emmett.
"Greetings, my favorite abnormally large person," he said smoothly. "Nice table. Very Mount Olympus meets tax evasion."
Emmett barked a laugh, nearly choking on his bottle of water.
"This is him," he said to the rest of the table. "This is the guy I was talking about. Sebastian, meets the rest of the dysfunctional marble statues I call family."
Sebastian gave a casual nod to the group, meeting each gaze with detached calm.
Rosalie gave a polite enough nod, though her eyes were calculating.
Jasper, beside the girl who must be Emely, offered a half-smile that said I'm being polite but I've also killed people before lunch.
Alice… was not at the table.
Interesting.
"So," Rosalie finally said, eyes flicking over Sebastian's hoodie like it personally offended her, "what's your story?"
Sebastian took another bite of lasagna, chewed thoughtfully, then replied, "I was born on a rainy Thursday. Raised by sarcasm and caffeine. Now I'm here to escape the oppressive tyranny of well-adjusted teenagers."
Jasper smirked. Emmett laughed again. Emely actually snorted.
Rosalie just blinked one. "Charming."
"Oh, I don't do charm." Sebastian replied. "Charm is for people who don't have access to electromagnetic field manipulation and questionable ethics."
That got a reaction. A few exchanged glances, but none challenged him. Which was wise. He hadn't even started being weird yet.
"Anyway," Emmett said, leaning in conspiratorially, "Alice'll be here soon. Don't worry she's… a lot. But in the best way.
"I look forward to being overwhelmed," Sebastian said dryly. "Nothing says 'welcome to the family' like a fashion critique and a vision of my probable future involving glitter and emotional whiplays."
The Cullens stared at him like they weren't sure if he was joking.
He wasn't.
Well, maybe a little.
His eyes scanned the room again, seeking the anomaly that felt like home.
And then, there.
Alice entered, eyes sharp, movements fluid. She wore confidence like most people wore backpacks, effortlessly and functionally. Her gaze scanned the cafeteria in microseconds before finally landing on him.
Her expression stuttered.
Not because she was surprised, but because the bond hit again. Like a tether between atoms. Like someone had just rewritten the laws of proximity and time for their benefit.
Sebastian didn't smile.
He just tilted his head and said, "And now the storm arrives."
Alice took her seat across from him without breaking eye contact.
And for the first time all day, the cafeteria fell silent.
END OF CHAPTER 12