We pulled up to school late on purpose. No one arrives at the top of the social pyramid on time. That’s how you keep people waiting, keep the suspense building.
And when Jade stepped out of my car?
Phonesexploded.
Clicks, flashes, TikToks-in-progress.
She had her hair pulled back in this high pony that screamedI-didn’t-try-too-hard, but still looked like something from a luxury campaign. Her skirt hit just above the knee—just enough to hint without showing—and her blouse was crisp, white, and buttoned like she had no clue how dangerous she looked.
Tristan whistled low beside me. “Our girl really leaned into the role.”
X muttered, “We’re not gonna survive this.”
Jade just rolled her eyes and started walking.
So we did what any good royal entourage does—we flanked her. Tristan on her right. X on her left. Me one step behind, like a king guarding his crown jewel.
Shani trailed behind, head high and eyes gleaming, already riding the wave of her upgraded social status. A week ago, no one even knew her name. Now? She was practicallycourt-appointed nobility.
People moved out of Jade’s way in the halls. Not out of fear—yet—but out of fascination. They didn’t know what to make of her. She wasn’t rich. Wasn’t bred for this. She didn’t chase clout or post thirst traps or play the game.
She just walked like the floor belonged to her, even though I knew damn well she was shaking under it all.
That only made me want her more.
We got her to her first class. I sat through mine texting Tristan about defensive drills we’d run at practice, but my head wasn’t in it.
My head?
Was back in the quad, where I planned our lunch appearance like it was a royal decree.
When fifth period hit, we reclaimed the center fountain—our usual perch. Except this time, it wasn’t me that people watched.
It wasus.
Jade perched on the edge of the fountain with one legcrossed, hair catching the sunlight, and this little smirk on her lips like she knew exactly what she was doing.
I slid in beside her, draped an arm across her shoulders, and bent to murmur something like, “You ready for the chaos?”
She stiffened slightly. Just enough for me to notice.
“Leo,” she said under her breath, “I’m not cool with PDA.”
I blinked. “You mean in general or?—”
She looked at me, serious as hell. “In general. Just… don’t make me part of your show.”
Oof.
That one hit harder than it should’ve.
Still, I gave a slight nod and moved my arm. Didn’t pout. Didn’t protest.
I just said, “Noted.”
And weirdly? That feltbetterthan any kiss.
No one’s ever told me no before.
