Born Tomorrow, Chapter 2: Flickers
By third period, Evan had forgotten the combination to his locker.
He stared at it for a solid minute, one hand resting on the dial, the other holding a notebook he didn’t remember picking up. His brain felt... foggy. Like someone had rewired it in his sleep.
“Need help remembering your birthday too?” came a voice behind him.
Cassian.
Of course.
“I got it,” Evan muttered, though he did not, in fact, have it.
Cassian leaned against the next locker, watching him struggle with an amused expression.
“You know it’s 4-12-18, right?” he offered.
“That’s not it.”
Cassian blinked. “Yes it is. You’ve used that combo since middle school. It’s your birthday and our jersey number.”
Evan turned the dial again. Still nothing. “Maybe they changed it.”
Cassian stared at him. “Dude. It’s not a password reset. It’s a lock.”
“I said I’ve got it,” Evan snapped, louder than he meant to.
Cassian backed off with his hands raised. “Okay, okay. Geez.”
Evan exhaled slowly and tried again. The lock clicked.
He didn’t feel relieved. Just... unsettled.
In biology class, Mr. Harrow repeated the same question three times. Word for word. Same tone. Same pause between sentences.
No one else seemed to notice.
Evan watched him carefully. The teacher’s left hand trembled, faintly. When he passed back quizzes, he skipped Evan’s desk entirely, then circled back a minute later like he hadn’t already passed it out.
When Evan looked at his quiz, his name was written in block letters at the top—CASSIAN WINTERS.
He stared at it.
His handwriting. His paper.
Wrong name.
He raised his hand.
“Yes, Evan?” Mr. Harrow asked without looking.
Evan hesitated. “Did... did you switch my quiz with someone else’s?”
Mr. Harrow blinked at him. “Your name’s right there.”
Evan looked again. It now said EVAN WINTERS. Clean as anything.
“Never mind,” Evan muttered.
Mr. Harrow nodded and walked away—only to ask the same quiz question again.
At lunch, Evan found Cassian sitting at their usual table, already mid-argument with two other guys from the football team.
“I’m telling you, the pass was perfect,” Cassian said, stabbing a chicken nugget with his fork like it had personally insulted him. “It’s not my fault Nolan ran the route backward.”
One of the players—Gabe, maybe—rolled his eyes. “You threw it into the bleachers, bro.”
“I was giving him space!”
“For what, a snack break?”
Cassian shrugged. “A good quarterback adjusts. I adjusted.”
Evan dropped his tray beside them and sat without a word.
Cassian looked over. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
“You look pale.”
“I’m always pale.”
Cassian studied him for a second longer, then nodded. “Fair.”
The others continued bickering about routes and practice drills, but Evan tuned them out. His mind drifted back to Vera. Her shaky hands. The glowing veins. The way she kept insisting it was nothing.
He glanced around the cafeteria. Two girls were arguing at a nearby table. One of them suddenly stopped mid-sentence, blinked like she forgot where she was, then laughed nervously and said, “Wait... what were we talking about?”
The other girl looked just as confused.
A few tables over, a boy stared blankly at his tray, unmoving. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Just silent repetition of the same sentence.
Evan couldn’t hear what it was.
But he didn’t need to.
After school, they walked home together. Cassian kicked a rock down the sidewalk like it owed him money. Evan stayed quiet.
“You ever feel like something’s... unraveling?” Evan asked finally.
Cassian looked over. “Like your brain?”
Evan gave him a sideways glare.
Cassian held up a hand. “I’m kidding. Kinda.”
He thought for a second, then nodded. “Yeah. People forgetting stuff. Getting confused. Like half the teachers don’t even remember the schedule anymore.”
Evan stopped walking. “You don’t think it’s just stress, right?”
Cassian shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe people are just dumb.”
Evan looked at him seriously. “Coach called me by your name yesterday. Like... three times.”
Cassian grinned. “That’s how you know things are bad.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.” Cassian kicked the rock again. “So what? What do you want to do about it?”
“I don’t know. Watch it, maybe.”
Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Watch what?”
“Everything.”
When they got home, the house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Vera wasn’t in the kitchen. Not on the couch.
Cassian called out. No answer.
They found her upstairs, lying on her side in bed, still fully dressed. Her mug of tea had spilled across the floor. The veins in her arms were glowing blue-white like fireflies under her skin.
Evan froze.
Cassian said, “Vera?”
Her eyes fluttered open.
“Boys,” she whispered. “You’re home early.”
“It’s almost five,” Cassian said.
“Oh.” She blinked, confused. “That’s... strange.”
Evan knelt by the bed. “We’re calling someone.”
“No.” She gripped his wrist tightly. Her fingers were colder than they should’ve been. “Not yet. I need... I need to tell you something.”
Cassian stepped forward. “What’s going on?”
She opened her mouth, but for a second no words came. Just a tremble. And then—
“The dreams. The glowing. It’s all connected. You were never supposed to stay this long.”