That Reece isn’t looking at her or any of the other girls who chase him through the halls like he’s some messed-up prize.Because Reece Wilson, the resident heartbreaker and certified bastard, is staring at me.And my body’s betraying every rule I swore I’d follow.
I hate that he makes me feel seen.
I hate that I want him to keep looking, and I really hate that Nicole knows it.
“Still wasting your time on the virgin?”Nicole purrs, voice loud enough for the whole room to catch it.“Thought you went for girls who actually knew what the fuck they were doing.”
The words hit harder than I want to admit.My breath catches, and for a moment, I freeze.
Reece doesn’t even blink; he just twirls that damn pen as if he’s bored out of his mind.
“Maybe I’m into slow burns,” he says.
A few of the guys snicker behind us.Someone mutters “shit” under their breath.Nicole’s smile twitches because she wasn’t expecting that.
I give him a glare.
He meets it head-on, eyes locked with mine, piercing through the walls I’ve spent years building.He holds the stare and doesn’t give me a moment to breathe.
I don’t know what this is.This slow, cruel game he keeps dragging me into.All I know is I never come out the other side whole.He plays, I break.I bleed, he walks away untouched.Nicole’s glare cuts across the room, aimed straight at my throat.
“Don’t,” Liz murmurs beside me.“The bitch is begging for a reaction.”
“She always is,” I whisper, voice tense.
Lola leans over the back of her chair.“Her jealousy’s louder than her perfume, and that’s saying something.She needs a hug, a nap, and a reality check.In that order.”
I try not to laugh.Lola always chooses the worst moment to say the dumbest stuff.I swear she couldn’t read a room if the instructions were stapled to her forehead.But I love her.Fiercely.Stupid jokes and all.
Nicole opens her mouth, caught up in the sound of her own voice, soaking up the attention as if it’s hers to hold.
But then Noah shifts in his seat.
One look.That’s all it takes.
His tone cuts through the noise, sharp enough to draw blood.
“Sit the fuck down, Nicole,” he says.“And know when to shut your mouth.”
The air becomes still.
Every head turns.No one breathes.Because when Noah speaks, people listen.
Nicole’s eyes go wide.She blinks slowly and in shock, as if she wasn’t expecting Noah to say anything—let alone pick a side.Especially not mine.
The room stills.
Even Reece stops, his smirk fading as his pen halts in midair.
Nicole hesitates, frozen for a second, then moves.She slides into the seat behind me, the scrape of the chair loud in the silence.Her breath ghosts across the back of my neck, sticky with sugar and venom.
“You’d be real pretty if you weren’t such a stuck-up little tease,” she murmurs, voice low enough only I can hear.“You walk around acting like you’re above it.Like they only want you because you’re different.But here’s a reality check, Sammy—every guy wants the same thing.And none of them stick around after they get it.”
I clench my fists in my lap.
I don’t need this crap today.Not when I’ve got college applications waiting at home and just one shot to get out of this place for good.Let them keep playing games in a town they’ll never leave.I’m already halfway gone.
Mrs.Whitman sweeps into the room exactly on cue, clutching a stack of papers and a travel mug that probably contains both regret and espresso.She claps her hands once, and the room falls into the bare minimum of order.
