Sweet Deadly Lies (A Dark Academia Mystery) Watty Winner ✔️

Fifteen

When my class lets out a few minutes before lunch on Friday, I realize I have officially survived my first week of school at Maliseet Bay.

In all honesty, it wasn't that bad.

The teachers are stricter than the ones back home, their lesson plans flirting with college-level material, even in classes not considered advanced, and most of them assign homework every night. I can't even remember the last time I put this much effort into—well, anything. But for the first time in a long time, the neurons in my brain feel stimulated. Like they've been on an extended vacation and are finally getting back to a much needed routine.

Drew follows me out of World Religion. When we walk outside, the late-morning sun bounces off the ocean and we squint until our eyes adjust to the light. Half of the campus is transformed into something that reminds me of a small town fair, the lawn dotted with food-eating spectators and enthusiastic attractions, each one vying for attention by handing out small gift bags filled with candy and cheaply made mementos.

An establishment from town has set up an outdoor restaurant, serving pizza made fresh in portable wood pellet ovens. Each greasy slice is as big as my head, and the scent of marinara and mozzarella linger on the breeze.

Dozens of students are already gathered around tables with their friends, while others wander through the exhibits as they nibble on their lunch.

In one area, there's a face-painting tent, where members from the art club are painting the school mascot on students' cheeks, while another tent sells Maliseet Bay swag. Further down, athletes from different sport teams are busy recruiting potential players, and a series of displays are set up to offer information on the various clubs at school. Some are academic while others are social, and none of them catch my interest.

"What about the visual arts club? You said you might want to try that," Drew reminds me as we stroll down the path. "Their table is right over there."

I follow his gaze. Two girls I haven't met yet are showing a group of onlookers what appear to be pictures of an art show arranged on a wood-panel display.

I shrug. "I'm not sure I want to join anything."

"You can at least grab a brochure. And then if you decide against it, just throw it away."

"Are you in anything?"

He readjusts his book bag and nods. "Speech and Debate, Latin Club, Sailing Club, Yearbook. And last year I started a Cryptocurrency Club because my dad says leadership experience will look good on my college applications. Oh, and in the spring, I'm in Track and Field."

"Wow. You're a whale in the crypto market and a jock? Talk about overachieving."

Drew laughs. "Hardly. But if I want to get into Harvard, I need to impress." He nudges me with his elbow. "Let's stop by and see what they have to offer."

Thanks to my failed attempt at attending Wednesday's meeting, I already know what they have to offer. But I don't want to get into that now.

As we linger along the fringe of the group, I grab a flier from one of the clear plastic holders as Drew's phone buzzes from his back pocket. When he pulls it out, his eyes move over the screen.

"Kate's just now getting out of class and wants me to meet her," he says, texting back a quick reply. "I know you said you're not going to the game, but promise you'll come to the bonfire afterward. Okay?"

Something flutters in my stomach. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

He cocks his head. "Why not? It'll be fun. Plus, you need to celebrate the first week of class. One down and only thirty-five more to go."