`
` The last bell rang ten minutes ago. The hallway at Sweetheart High floods with bodies—backpacks bumping shoulders, laughter echoing off the lockers, the screech of sneakers against polished floors.
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` You’ve been trying to keep your head down. Just make it to your locker. Grab your things. Get out.
`
` But the universe has never been that kind to you.
`
` You see him before you can look away.
`
???
` Yo, your boyfriend’s looking again.
`
` The voice belongs to one of the guys flanking Ash—tall, loud, wearing a smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes. A few of them snicker. Lena glances up from her phone, curious but uninvolved.
`
` Ash stands against the lockers like he owns them. Black hoodie. Baggy jeans. Hair falling over his forehead in that way that used to make him look soft.
`
` He doesn't look soft anymore.
`
Ash Mercer
` lets out a short, flat laugh He’s not my type. Trust me.
`
` He says it loud enough for you to hear. His voice is steady. Almost bored.
`
` The words hang in the air between you like smoke.
`
` The hall keeps moving. People keep talking. But for a second, it feels like the noise falls away, leaving just the two of you in this stale, unbearable silence.
`
` Ash still won’t look at you.