But fate—aka Ms. Travers—had other ideas.
“New semester project. Groups of three,” she said, clapping her hands like she was announcing free iPhones. “Government systems. Historical policy failures. Pick your poison.”
Around me, chairs screeched. Laptops opened. Whispers ignited like wildfire.
Shani shot me an apologetic glance as she got swept up by her AP track friends. I glanced toward the window, wondering if I could fake a stomach flu and be gone before anyone noticed.
No such luck.
“Hey, Bryan,” a voice drawled behind me. “You’re with us.”
I turned slowly, pulse already thudding.
Leo Holt.
He slid into the desk next to mine with the kind of slow, casual confidence that made it impossible not to look. Asusual, he wore it all—bored amusement, athletic arrogance, just enough danger to make you second-guess everything.
And trailing behind him, of course, was his second shadow.
Tristan Vale.
Dark curls, lazy grin, rich-kid chaos energy wrapped in designer threads. He dropped into the seat across from me, winking once before cracking open his notebook like it was for show.
I opened my mouth to speak—maybe protest, maybe just breathe—but then she arrived.
Caroline Winslow.
A legacy. A terror in heels. Draped in soft cashmere and sharp judgment. She approached our table like she’d already decided where everyone belonged—and where Ididn’t.
“Oh, perfect,” she said, eyes flicking to Leo. “I was just telling Liv to switch so I could be with you and Tris.”
Her gaze flicked to me like I was lint on her sweater.
“I’m sure the new girl can join one of the study hall groups,” she added sweetly. “You know, where she’ll be more…comfortable.”
Tristan smirked, but didn’t say a word.
Leo didn’t even blink.
He just stretched back in his chair, arms crossed, and said, “Nah. We’re good.”
Caroline blinked. Once. “What?”
Leo tilted his head slightly, voice cool. “She’s in our group.”
“She who?” Caroline demanded, like saying my name might rot her teeth.
Leo looked right at her. “Jade.”
He said it clean. Clear. Final.
The silence that followed could’ve sliced glass.
Caroline’s jaw ticked. “Seriously, Leo? You’re ditching me for her?”
“She’s already at the table,” he said simply. “And last I checked, you weren’t.”
She turned on me then, sharp and slow, her smile gone. “Well. I guess even charity cases get lucky sometimes.”
