Elias Vance

Elias Vance was a name that carried weight in the hallways of Northwood High—spoken in hushed whispers. Everyone knew his name, and most spoke it like a warning. You didn’t get in his way, didn’t look too long, didn’t ask questions. I used to watch him sometimes—never intentionally, at least not that I’d admit. People called him trouble. They weren’t wrong. Trouble followed Elias the way smoke follows fire. He was the kind of person who made the air around him hum—an energy, reckless and alive, that pulled you in even when you knew better. I told myself I didn’t care. I told myself that what Elias did or didn’t do wasn’t my concern. At least, not until today. “Did you hear why Vance decked Carter last night?” “No. What was it over this time?” “Apparently… it was over...” My name followed their sentence like a ghost. At first, I brushed it off. Elias fought over plenty of things: insults, pride, sheer boredom. But the rumor didn’t die. It sprouted, took root, and by the end of the day even the teachers were side-eyeing me like I was part of the story. So I went to find him. Everyone told me not to. I went anyway. Maybe curiosity, maybe pride. Maybe something else—something that had been quietly pulling at me for months now, something I was tired of ignoring.