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Jinx decided firmly that if she survived today, she deserved a medal.
Maybe even a cake.
Definitely both.
She stood just inside the dorm lobby, clutching her backpack like a shield, eyes darting between the polished floors, the banners welcoming new students, and the very real possibility that she could just turn around and pretend none of this was happening.
“Breathe.”
Caitlyn’s voice was calm and steady, the way it always was when she’d already planned three steps ahead. She adjusted the strap of Jinx’s bag without asking, a little grounding gesture.
“You’re not being thrown to the wolves,” Caitlyn continued. “I’ve arranged everything.”
“That’s what scares me,” Jinx muttered.
Caitlyn smiled anyway. “I am the student council president. And as a Kiraman, I don’t do chaos.”
Jinx snorted. “That’s a lie. Your family adopted me.”
Before Caitlyn could respond, footsteps approached, confident and unhurried.
“President Kiramman?”
A blonde girl stopped in front of them, tablet tucked under her arm, posture straight but her eyes warm. She wore the student council badge as if it actually meant something.
“Yes?” Caitlyn turned.
“I’ve got the orientation schedule,” the girl said. “Dorm tour, campus walk, and” she glanced at Jinx, her smile softening just a little. “room assignment.”
Jinx stiffened. “Room assignment?”
Caitlyn nodded. “You’ll have a roommate. Someone I trust.”
The girl stepped forward and held out her hand. “Me, actually, Luxanna Crownguard. But please, call me Lux.”
Jinx looked at the hand like it might explode.
“…Jinx,” she finally said, shaking it.
Lux’s grip was gentle and steady.
“No pressure today,” Lux added quickly. “I’ll show you around, keep things quiet if you want. Or talk your ear off if you don’t.”
Jinx blinked. “…You’re weird.”
Lux laughed. “Excellent. That makes two of us.”
Caitlyn checked her watch. “I’ll see you after classes. Lux, thank you.”
“Of course,” Lux replied easily.
As Caitlyn walked away, Jinx watched her go, heart pounding.
Then Lux nudged her shoulder, light and friendly. “First stop: your room, or, well, our room. You’ll want to drop your stuff before the day eats you alive.”
Jinx hesitated… then followed.
The room was… nicer than Jinx expected.
Sunlight streamed through a big window, lighting up two neatly made beds separated by a long desk. One side was already taken, textbooks stacked by color, a desk lamp perfectly centered, framed photos lined up with surgical precision.
The other side was empty.
Jinx hovered in the doorway.
“This is… ours?” she asked.
Lux nodded, setting her tablet down. “Yep. I took the window side, but if you want it-”
“No,” Jinx said quickly. “Nope. Windows are… loud.”
Lux paused, then smiled. “Then this works.”
Jinx dropped her bag on the bare mattress. Something metallic clanked loudly.
Lux raised an eyebrow. “Is that going to explode?”
“Only if provoked.”
“…Should I be worried?”
“Depends,” Jinx said, already digging through her bag. Clothes, wires, and a half-disassembled alarm clock spilled out. “Are you planning on provoking it?”
Lux laughed softly, surprised, and Jinx felt an odd flicker of pride.
They unpacked in parallel. Lux folded. Jinx tossed. Lux hung things carefully. Jinx shoved a hoodie under the bed when she ran out of hangers.
At some point, Lux glanced over and said gently, “You don’t have to unpack everything today.”
Jinx froze. “…Yeah. I know.”
But she kept going anyway.
Lux didn’t comment. She just slid a small basket across the desk. “Extra outlets. For… projects.”
Jinx looked at her. Really looked.
“Thanks,” she said quietly.
The campus was bigger than Jinx imagined. Too open. Too many people. Too many places to be watched from.
Lux noticed.
She didn’t ask.
She just subtly adjusted their path, choosing quieter walkways, lingering under trees instead of crowded quads, and slowing her pace when Jinx fell half a step behind.
“This building’s science,” Lux said lightly. “And that one’s humanities. Cafeteria’s over there, but we can avoid it today if you want.”
Jinx swallowed. “You’re doing that on purpose.”
Lux glanced at her. “Doing what?”
“Making it… easier.”
Lux shrugged, gazing ahead. “Student council training. We’re told to watch for overwhelmed students.”
Jinx snorted. “Liar.”
Lux smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
They stopped near a fountain. Lux checked her schedule, standing straight with shoulders squared.
Perfect.
Too perfect.
Jinx tilted her head. “You always stand like that?”
Lux stiffened for half a second.
“…Like what?”
“Like if you relax, something bad happens.”
Lux blinked.
Then she laughed, but it was quick and brittle. “You’re very perceptive.”
“Yeah,” Jinx said. “It’s a curse.”
Lux exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping just a little.
“I don’t like messing up.”
Jinx nodded. “Neither do I.”
The path curved toward one of the older buildings on campus, tall and made of pale stone, with ivy creeping up its walls, as if it had been there forever.
Jinx slowed.
Her eyes narrowed—not at the architecture, but at the bronze plaque mounted near the entrance.
CROWNGUARD HALL: Established through the generous contribution of the Crownguard Foundation
Jinx stopped walking entirely.
Lux took three steps forward before realizing Jinx wasn’t beside her anymore. She turned. “Hey?”
Jinx tilted her head, signaling with two fingers. “That's yours?”
Lux followed her gaze.
Oh.
She smiled politely, automatically. “Yeah. My family donates to the school.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Jinx said.
Lux hesitated.
“…Yes,” she admitted. “It’s my family.”
Jinx hummed. “Big donors.”
Lux shrugged, shoulders a little too stiff. “They believe in education.”
Jinx looked back up at the building. Massive. Permanent. Unavoidable.
“Must be nice,” she said carefully, “to have your name already belong somewhere.”
Lux’s smile faltered, not gone, but thinner. “Sometimes.”
That surprised Jinx.
Lux glanced at the building again, then away. “People expect things when they see that name. Grades. Behavior. Leadership. Mistakes feel… louder.”
Jinx snorted. “Yeah, well. When people see my name, they just expect trouble.”
Lux looked at her, then really looked. “That’s not fair.”
“Life’s got a great sense of humor,” Jinx replied.
They stood there a moment longer than necessary, the weight of stone and expectation pressing down in different ways.
Lux finally adjusted her bag strap, her posture snapping back into place. “Come on. The next building’s the science wing. No famous last names there.”
Jinx smirked as she followed. “Yet.”
And Lux laughed softly, almost relieved.
They were crossing the quad when Jinx noticed it again.
Lux glanced at her watch.
Not panicked. Not rushed. Just… checking.
Jinx narrowed her eyes. “You late for something?”
Lux smiled easily. “Just making sure we’re on time to meet Caitlyn.”
“Uh-huh.”
They kept walking. Lux talked about the library hours, the best quiet study spots, and which professors to avoid if you valued your sanity.
She rechecked her watch.
And again.
Jinx’s brain started buzzing.
“So,” Jinx said casually, “what happens if we’re not on time?”
Lux hummed. “Caitlyn frowns.”
“That it?”
“Usually.”
They rounded the corner toward the administration building.
POP.
A burst of blue smoke erupted from the fountain, followed by a cascade of paper butterflies fluttering into the air. Students gasped, then laughed as phones came out.
Jinx stopped dead.
“Oh. That’s cute,” she said, eyes bright.
Lux jumped perfectly timed, just startled enough to sell it. “What the?”
Another pop. A banner unfurled from the nearby lamppost:
WELCOME BACK, TRY NOT TO BE BORING
Lux covered her mouth. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Before Lux could continue, Caitlyn’s voice cut through the chaos.
“First day of school,” Caitlyn said as she approached, exasperated, “and that prank queen is already at it again.”
Jinx laughed. “Sounds like my kind of person.”
Lux smiled sympathetically. “Trust me, you don’t want to get involved.”
Behind them, security sprinted past as a figure in a hoodie disappeared around the corner.
Lux didn’t even look.
Her watch buzzed softly.
She silenced it without glancing down.
Caitlyn gave Lux a suspicious look but said nothing.
“Come on,” Lux said smoothly. “Let’s get you settled before class.”
Jinx followed, still smiling.
By Thursday, Jinx had learned how to be normal.
Or at least, how to fake it.
She ate lunch with Caitlyn and Lux when their schedules aligned. She went to class. She didn’t touch the exposed wiring behind the vending machines. She even survived three whole days without modifying campus property.
It was torture.
Especially when the pranks kept happening.
Sticky notes covered the dean’s office door. The library card scanner was temporarily announcing “You’re doing great, sweetie” every time someone swiped in. A perfectly timed confetti drop during morning announcements.
Art.
Jinx felt it buzzing beneath her skin.
She was in the engineering lab after hours when she finally cracked, half crouched under a table, fingers already tightening a clamp into place.
“Don’t.”
Lux’s voice came from behind her.
Jinx froze.
Slowly, she turned. Lux stood in the doorway, arms crossed, expression calm but eyes sharp.
“You’re not mad,” Jinx said.
“I’m assessing,” Lux replied.
Jinx sighed and leaned back against the table. “Okay. Full disclosure? I was going to reroute the projector to play the Rick Roll song for only a minute during tomorrow’s assembly.”
Lux blinked.
“…Only a minute?”
“See? Restraint.”
Lux pinched the bridge of her nose. “Jinx—”
Jinx straightened, suddenly serious. “I can’t do this. It’s like… pressure. And I like you. So here’s the deal.”
Lux raised an eyebrow.
“I do it anyway,” Jinx said. “Either you turn me in because your family’s name is carved into half the buildings… or you help me and be my friend.”
The room went quiet.
Lux studied her for a long moment. Really studied her.
Then she exhaled and smiled.
“Your timing is terrible,” Lux said.
She set her bag down, opened it, and pulled out a small device Jinx recognized instantly.
A remote trigger.
Jinx’s eyes widened. “…No way.”
“I was about to replace the lab’s exit chime with a harp sound,” Lux said calmly. “Only once. Just to test it.”
Jinx stared at her.
“You’re the prank queen,” she breathed.
Lux winced. “I prefer ‘community morale specialist.’”
“You lied to my face.”
“Impeccably.”
"Who was that on the first day of school?"
"My friend Seraphine helps me with an alibi when I need it."
Jinx burst out laughing. “I knew you were hiding something.”
Lux stepped closer. “Rules,” she said softly. “No one gets hurt. No permanent damage. And we never target people who don’t deserve it.”
Jinx nodded immediately. “Deal.”
Lux hesitated, then added, “And if we do this… we do it together.”
Jinx’s grin softened into something real. “Friends?”
Lux smiled back. “Partners.”
Outside, the lab lights flickered once.
Perfectly on cue.
It all started small.
Lux showed Jinx how to map camera blind spots without ever touching the system. Jinx taught Lux how to reroute a signal so smoothly it looked like a glitch rather than a crime.
They exchanged notes in the margins of textbooks. Times. Routes. Distractions.
No one got caught.
They learned each other’s routines.
Lux planned two steps ahead, always with a backup. Jinx improvised on the spot, her instincts sharp and fearless. Somehow, together, it all worked.
When the announcement system briefly played Death Metal before morning roll call, Lux sat perfectly still while Jinx bit her knuckle to stop laughing.
When the dean’s office door politely cursed out anyone knocking, Lux adjusted her glasses and took notes while Jinx bounced on her heels.
They never looked at each other during the pranks.
That was rule number one.
They spent late nights in the dorm, pretending to study.
Lux would sit cross-legged on her bed, laptop open, explaining probability as if it were poetry. Jinx lay on the floor, dismantling something harmless, eyes following Lux’s hands more than the equations.
Sometimes Lux would pause mid-sentence.
“…Are you listening?”
Jinx would grin. “Totally.”
Lux never called her on the lie.
The campus started whispering.
People speculated. Theories spread. Blame landed everywhere except where it belonged.
Jinx loved it.
Lux pretended she didn’t and then smiled into her sleeve when something landed perfectly.
They got closer without noticing.
Shoulders brushing in hallways. Knees touching during late-night planning. Lux handed Jinx coffee in the mornings without asking how she took it.
Jinx stopped flinching when Lux reached for her.
Lux stopped pulling away when Jinx lingered.
Once, during a near-miss with security, Lux grabbed Jinx’s wrist and pulled her into a dark stairwell.
They stood there, breathing hard, faces inches apart.
Neither of them moved.
After a moment, Lux let go first.
“Next time,” she said evenly, “we wait ten seconds longer.”
Jinx nodded. “Yeah.”
They didn’t talk about how their hands had shaken.
By mid-semester, they were inseparable.
Friends, officially. Partners, unofficially.
Something else hovered just under the surface, unspoken, electric, waiting.
They never crossed the line.
Not yet.
But every prank, every late night, every shared look felt like another step closer.
And neither of them was in a hurry.
The hallway smelled faintly of citrus cleaner and chalk dust.
Caitlyn ran a cloth over the last locker door, then stepped back, scanning for any lingering evidence. The corridor looked perfectly ordinary, now, with no glitter, no projection residue, no sign that an hour ago the walls had briefly displayed looping illusions of dancing mascots.
She exhaled. “That should do it.”
Lux tied off the trash bag and set it neatly by the door. “Security won’t find anything.”
Caitlyn sighed. “They never do.”
They worked in quiet tandem for a moment, the comfortable kind of silence that came from familiarity rather than obligation. Eventually, Caitlyn leaned her shoulder against the wall, folding her arms.
“You didn’t have to stay and help,” she said.
Lux shrugged lightly. “I didn’t mind.”
Caitlyn hesitated, then nodded once. “I’m glad you did.”
Another pause followed, heavier this time.
“And… Lux?” Caitlyn added.
“Yes?”
“Thank you. For Jinx.”
Lux looked up, surprised. “For… what?”
“For being kind to her,” Caitlyn said. “For treating her like she belongs here. She’s… had a hard time connecting with people her age.”
Lux’s expression softened. She said nothing, letting Caitlyn continue.
“When my parents adopted her, she was still reeling,” Caitlyn said quietly. “Her sister Vi was killed in an explosion. After that… Jinx shut down. She survived, but she lost the only person who really understood her.”
Lux felt a tightness settle in her chest.
“She’s been surrounded by adults ever since,” Caitlyn went on. “My parents. My friends. We care about her, but we’re older. We worry. We protect. We don’t always play.”
Lux swallowed.
“So seeing her laugh with you,” Caitlyn said, voice gentler now, “seeing her come back to the dorm talking about someone her own age… it matters.”
Lux looked down at the floor, heart thudding. “She deserves that.”
“She does,” Caitlyn agreed. “And you’ve been a good friend to her. I wanted you to know that.”
For a moment, Lux was very aware of the weight of the mop in her hands. Of the secrets she carried. Of how easy it would be to say nothing and how hard it would be to say everything.
Instead, she smiled. Small. Careful. Earnest.
“I’m glad she trusts me,” Lux said.
Caitlyn returned the smile. “So am I.”
They switched off the hallway lights and headed toward the exit.
As the door closed behind them, Lux glanced back once at the spotless corridor, at the absence of evidence, at the secret safely intact.
Caitlyn still didn’t know who the prank queen was.
And for now, that was precisely how Lux intended to keep it.
The halls were quieter than usual. Lockers were already half-empty, with backpacks slung over shoulders or stashed in cars outside. Summer break hung in the air like a long, warm sigh even at night.
The quad was empty, lit only by the soft glow of path lights and the quiet hum of something electrical in the distance. Jinx crouched at the base of the fountain, fingers moving with practiced ease as she secured the final clamp. The device blinked once, then settled into a slow, steady pulse.
“Timer’s set,” she whispered. “It won’t trigger until tomorrow afternoon. Right when parents start picking people up.”
Lux knelt beside her, checking the alignment. “Clean. Subtle. Untraceable.”
Jinx smirked. “You taught me well.”
They sat back on the stone edge, shoulders brushing. For a while, neither spoke. The quiet felt heavier tonight, not bad, just full.
Jinx broke it first.
“The Kiramans are picking me and Cait up tomorrow,” she said softly.
Lux glanced at her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Caitlyn pretends she’s not emotional about it, but she totally is.” Jinx smiled faintly. “Her parents already packed snacks. Like… enough for a road trip.”
Lux laughed under her breath. “They really care about you.”
Jinx nodded, gaze fixed on the fountain. “They didn’t have to. But they chose me. After everything with Vi…”She looked over at Lux then. “I love them. A lot.”
Lux’s expression softened. “I’m happy you have them.”
“Me too,” Jinx said. “They’re protective. Sometimes overwhelming. But they gave me a home when I didn’t think I’d ever belong anywhere again.”
The words lingered between them.
Lux shifted slightly. “My parents are very similar, very protective of me, they know I need to live up to a standard Crownguards are known for, but still find ways to let me be me when I can.”
“What about dating?” Jinx asked, quieter now.
Lux smiled. “They don’t really care. As long as you’re not a troublemaker.”
Jinx scoffed. “Well, I’m not that.”
Lux slowly turned her head.
Looked at her.
Really looked at her.
Jinx faltered. “…Okay. I might be.”
Lux laughed softly. “You’re unbelievable.”
“But you like me anyway,” Jinx said, leaning closer.
Lux’s smile warmed. “Very much.”
The silence stretched comfortably, charged, inevitable.
Jinx leaned in.
The kiss was gentle and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. Lux’s hand rested at Jinx’s waist, steady and sure, grounding her in the moment.
When they pulled back, foreheads touching, Lux murmured, “I think my parents would like you.”
Jinx smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. “That means more than you think.”
They stayed there a while longer, the device blinking patiently at their feet, waiting for morning.
They were late.
Not dramatically late, but late enough that the curb was already crowded with cars and half the campus buzz had turned into end-of-year chatter.
Jinx slowed when she spotted a familiar tall figure near the dorm steps.
“Oh,” she muttered. “They’re already here.”
Caitlyn stood with her parents. Cassandra composed as ever, Tobias smiling easily as he gestured toward the building. Caitlyn was mid-sentence when she noticed them.
“There you are,” she called, relief slipping into her voice. “We thought you’d vanished.”
“Almost,” Jinx said. “But we remembered you’d worry.”
Cassandra turned, gaze sharp but warm. “Jinx.”
Jinx straightened automatically. “Uh, hi. Sorry. This is Lux.”
Lux stepped forward, polite and calm. “It’s nice to meet you finally.”
Cassandra’s expression softened immediately. “You must be the Lux Jinx talks about.”
Jinx blinked. “I do?”
Caitlyn smirked. “Constantly.”
Lux smiled, just a little.
“And where are your parents, Lux?” Cassandra asked.
Before Lux could answer, raised voices drifted from down the walkway.
“I’m just saying,” a deep voice argued, “maybe don’t date someone who throws knives for fun-”
“They’re decorative,” another voice snapped back.
Jinx turned. “Wow.”
Lux winced. “That’s… my brother.”
They watched as a tall, broad-shouldered man, clearly annoyed, gestured emphatically at a dark-haired woman who looked entirely unbothered by his concern.
“Garen,” Lux called.
Both heads snapped toward them.
“There you are, Luxanna,” Lux’s mother said, relief clear as she and Lux’s father joined them, dragging Garen along behind. “We were just explaining to your brother why he shouldn't be dating a troublemaker like that, Katarina.”
Katarina smirked. “I’m a delight.”
Lux sighed. “Mom. Dad, this is Jinx.”
The shift was immediate.
Lux’s parents lit up.
“Oh,” her mother said, smiling widely. “You’re Jinx.”
Her father nodded approvingly. “We’ve heard a great deal about you.”
Jinx froze. “…Good things?”
“Exclusively,” Lux’s mother said. “Lux adores you.”
Lux flushed. “Mom.”
Caitlyn’s eyebrows rose. Cassandra took all of this in with quiet interest.
Then
A sudden whir echoed across the quad.
Screens mounted on nearby buildings flickered to life. A massive banner unfurled from the main hall:
THIS YEAR’S PRANKS BROUGHT TO YOU BY
THE PRANK QUEENS
Confetti cannons burst in synchronized waves, harmless smoke curling into the summer air as students gasped and laughed.
Caitlyn stared. “…Prank queens?”
Cassandra exhaled slowly. “Plural.”
Lux and Jinx locked eyes.
A single, shared look.
Worth it.