Yanina’s POV

The persistent, sharp blare of my alarm cut through the heavy quiet of my bedroom, pulling me aggressively out of a dreamless sleep. I groaned, the sound muffled by my pillow, before slamming my hand down blindly on the snooze button. When the ringing finally stopped, I stayed frozen for a second, wishing I could disappear back into the mattress. I blinked away the morning fog and squinted at the digital clock glowing on my nightstand.

6:00 AM.

The numbers seemed to mock me. Class didn’t start until 7:30 AM, which meant I had exactly an hour and a half to transform myself into someone who looked capable of surviving the day.

An hour and a half. It was plenty of time, yet my chest tightened with a sudden, overwhelming wave of displacement. Lying there in the unfamiliar quiet, the memories of my past life came rushing back like an open floodgate. For fourteen long years, my entire existence had been defined by the rigid schedules, strict dress codes, and cold stone walls of a New York City boarding school. It was an elite, incredibly expensive institution—a privilege my parents readily paid for without a second thought. They were wealthy enough that money was never a conversation, though I always hated the thought of sounding like I was bragging about it. To me, that wealth had just meant living in a gilded cage hundreds of miles away from the people who actually knew my name.

Now, the scenery had completely shifted. The cold northeastern winters were gone, replaced by the heavy, humid air of Florida. I was finally back under my family’s roof, standing on the precipice of my senior year at Lakewood High School. This was supposed to be the final chapter of my childhood, the phase where everything came together, but the transition felt terrifying.

I was turning eighteen in a matter of weeks, a milestone that felt completely unearned considering my utter lack of real-world experience. Living in a structured boarding school environment meant my social circle had been entirely curated for me. Outside of that bubble, I was an inherently, painfully socially awkward person. Put me in a room full of strangers my own age without a script, and I completely forgot how to function like a normal human being. But as I stared at the ceiling, I told myself that was a problem for future Yanina. Right now, I just needed to get out of bed.

With a heavy sigh, I threw off the covers and dragged myself into the bathroom. Fourteen years of institutional living and shared dorm bathrooms had taught me how to be efficient. I brushed my teeth, washed the sleep from my face, and brushed out my hair in a record-breaking fifteen minutes flat. Speed was practically hardwired into my DNA at this point; it was one of the few practical perks of being raised by a boarding school.

Back in my bedroom, I walked into my walk-in closet to figure out what a normal senior wore on her first day. Again, having a closet the size of a small bedroom wasn’t something I took for granted, but today, luxury was the last thing on my mind. I wanted to blend into the background. I needed an outfit that screamed average teenager trying to survive high school. After tossing a few options aside, I settled on a simple pair of casual, skinny blue jeans and a plain white cropped tee. I pulled on my favorite pair of white Converse—scuffed and worn enough to look lived-in—and stood in front of the vanity.

My reflection showed a pair of dull, tired blue eyes staring back. To fix that, I carefully applied a thin, precise layer of black eyeliner, which instantly made them pop and look a little more awake. I finished off the look with a quick coat of my favorite strawberry lip gloss. It was simple, low-effort, and exactly the armor I needed. I was as ready as I was ever going to be.

Grabbing my brand-new backpack from the desk, I slung it over one shoulder and made my way downstairs. As I descended the staircase, the rich, sweet scent of melted butter and maple syrup drifted through the air, instantly making my stomach growl.

When I stepped into the kitchen, I was greeted by the sight of my family. If I had to describe them in a single word, it would be typical. At least, typical for a movie. With a fiercely overprotective father and an equally hyper-vigilant older brother, my life had never really felt normal. They treated me like a fragile glass doll that might shatter if the wind blew too hard. Despite how suffocating it could be at times, I loved them to absolute death. And then, of course, there was my mom. She was the grounding wire of the entire house, the one person who always seemed to understand exactly what I was thinking without me having to say a single word.

"Good morning, sweetie," Mom said, breaking me out of my thoughts. She turned away from the stove, her face lighting up with a bright, warm smile that instantly eased the tight knot of anxiety forming in my chest.

"Morning, Mom," I replied, walking around the marble kitchen counter. I leaned in to press a quick kiss against her cheek before turning my attention to the table. "Morning, Dad."

"Morning, princess," Dad said, looking up from his coffee with the exact same affectionate smile.

I took a seat at the table and felt my jaw drop slightly. Standing in a neat, golden stack in the center of the table was a massive plate of fresh pancakes. My mom was hands-down the best cook I had ever known, and her pancakes were legendary. It was her ultimate comfort food, and seeing them there made me realize she knew exactly how nervous I was about today.

I didn't waste a single second. I grabbed a fork and started digging in, savoring the familiar taste.

"So, Yanina," Dad started, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. "Are you excited for the first day at the new high school?"

The bite of pancake suddenly felt incredibly heavy in my mouth. My fork hovered in mid-air as a wave of intense discomfort washed over me. Excited? That was definitely not the word I would use. Terrified, anxious, and overwhelmed felt a lot closer to the truth.

"Umm... yeah, a lot actually," I lied, forcing a tight, artificial smile onto my face to keep him from worrying.

"Oh, I just can't believe our little princess is already completing her senior year!" Mom cheered from the stove, clasping her hands together dramatically.

I rolled my eyes, letting out a soft groan. Ugh, not this again. "Mom, please. I am not little anymore. I am literally soon to be—"

"You're a kid until I say otherwise, princess," a deep voice interrupted from behind me.

Before I could even finish my sentence or defend my honor, my older brother, Ace, sauntered into the kitchen. Without missing a beat, he reached right over my shoulder, slid his fingers onto my plate, and effortlessly hijacked a massive piece of my pancake.

The absolute nerve of this guy. I bristled instantly, my eyes narrowing into a harsh glare. If there was one thing I absolutely despised, it was people stealing food directly off my plate. "Hey! That's mine! Get your own!"

"So?" Ace asked, completely unfazed. He slid into the chair right next to mine, a massive, infuriating smirk plastered across his face as he chewed deliberately. "Haven't you ever heard that sharing is caring, little sis?"

I stared at his face, genuinely debating the logistics of punching that smirk right off his jaw. "Sharing my ass," I snapped, glaring holes into the side of his head.

Instead of being intimidated, my brother just stuck his tongue out at me like a literal child.

"Language, young lady!" Mom called out from the sink.

Ace instantly burst into a loud, obnoxious laugh, clearly thrilled that he had managed to get me in trouble within thirty seconds of sitting down. He was freaking laughing at me. The son of a—okay, I wasn’t going to finish that thought in front of my mother.

That was the paradox of Ace. On one hand, he was a senior in college and handled himself like a mature adult when he was out in the real world. He was taller than my dad, built like an athlete, and took his role as the protective older brother incredibly seriously. But the very second he walked through the front door of this house, he reverted right back to a petty, five-year-old instigator.

Deciding that arguing with him was a losing battle, I murmured a quick, half-hearted apology to my mom and decided to change the subject entirely. I needed to establish some boundaries for my first day.

"So... I was thinking," I started, keeping my voice casual as I looked between my parents. "I'd really like to go to school alone today. I already looked up the directions on my phone, and it’s a super straight shot. So... can I just drive myself or walk?"

"NO," Ace interjected immediately, his voice dropping into that unyielding, authoritative tone he used whenever he wanted to play the boss. "Absolutely not. I am dropping you off at school."

"But Ace—"

"Yanina, no buts," he cut me off again, shutting down the conversation with a wave of his hand. "It's your first day at a brand-new school. No buts, it's final. I'm driving you. Right, dad?"

I looked over at my father, hoping for some backup, but Dad just gave a firm, supportive nod without even looking up from his phone. See? Overprotective. It ran in the family.

I let out a defeated sigh, though in reality, I hadn't actually expected them to say yes. It was worth a shot, at least. "Fine... as you say," I mumbled, pulling the rest of my food away from Ace's reaching hands. A victorious smile spread across my brother's face.

I finished eating the rest of my breakfast in a hurry and checked the screen of my phone. The digital clock read 7:10 AM. A bolt of panic shot through me. There were only twenty minutes left before the opening bell, and I did not want to be the new girl walking into homeroom late.

"Okay, Ace, we seriously need to move," I said, pushing my chair back. "We only have twenty minutes left."

He nodded, the playful smirk fading into a more cooperative look as he stood up. "Alright, let's go, kiddo."

He grabbed his car keys off the kitchen counter and tossed a quick, "Love you guys!" toward the kitchen as he started walking toward the front door.

I grabbed my backpack, securing the strap firmly over my shoulder, and turned to face my parents one last time. "Okay, bye Mom and Dad. Love you!"

"Bye, princess! Take care of yourself, and best of luck on your first day! We love you too!" they called out almost simultaneously, their voices perfectly in sync.

I couldn't help but giggle a little at how predictable they were. I closed the front door behind me and stepped out into the warm, humid Florida morning air. Waiting in the driveway was a sleek, polished black Audi A4, its engine idling quietly. My brother had received the car as a gift for his eighteenth birthday, a fact that I was still deeply envious of.

I walked over, opened the passenger door, and climbed inside. The moment I buckled my seatbelt, I noticed Ace was staring at me, smiling like an absolute idiot. I paused, giving him a deeply confused, suspicious look. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, shifting the car into reverse and looking over his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway. "Just wanted to see if you were actually ready for this."

I decided to shrug it off, turning my head to look out the window as our house disappeared behind us. The familiar palm trees and sunny streets of my hometown began to blur past the glass. I took a deep, steadying breath to calm the fluttering in my stomach, forcing a smile to my face.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I murmured aloud.

But as the car sped down the road toward Lakewood High, a strange, heavy intuition settled deep in my gut. I stared out at the passing traffic, the reality of the situation finally crashing down on me. I was completely on my own now. Everything was about to change, and as much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I had absolutely no idea if I was truly prepared for whatever was waiting for me through those school doors.

Yanina’s POV

The iron gates of Lakewood High School loomed in the distance, and with every rotation of the car tires, a volatile cocktail of dread and wild anticipation twisted tighter in my stomach. It was a suffocating feeling, the kind that makes your chest feel restricted and your throat completely dry. Today was supposed to be a massive turning point for me. It was the ultimate fresh start, a clean slate I had spent months mentally preparing for, but my social anxiety was currently screaming in the back of my mind, threatening to tear down my carefully constructed walls.

Meeting new people has never been my strong suit. In fact, it was my absolute worst nightmare. I was the girl who preferred the safety of a quiet corner, invisible and undisturbed, rather than being the center of attention.

I looked down at my lap. My hands were shaking so violently that my fingers looked like a blur. It was a dead giveaway, my ultimate tell whenever the panic began to creep in. But before the spiral could completely pull me under, a warm, solid hand gently covered mine, pinning my trembling fingers against my jeans.

Ace.

My older brother was the only person on the planet who truly knew how to ground me when my brain started misfiring. He had this innate ability to read my silence, knowing exactly when the noise in my head was becoming too loud to handle.

"Take it easy, Yanina," he said softly. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the morning traffic, but the reassuring, calm smile playing on his lips was entirely for me. "You're going to do great today. There’s absolutely nothing to freak out about, I promise."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered, managing a faint, watery smile in return. I pulled my hand back to nervously tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "You actually know how to function around human beings. I’m terrible at this. I've never had to deal with an entirely blank slate full of total strangers before. It’s overwhelming."

Ace let out a soft, low laugh, completely ignoring the sharp glare I shot him. "Just take a second to breathe before you open your mouth, okay? Don't overthink it. Just breathe. You've got this, sis."

I gave him a silent nod as the car finally pulled up to the crowded curb right in front of the school’s main entrance. Taking one last, deep chest breath to steady my racing heart, I clicked off my seatbelt. I grabbed the strap of my backpack, braced myself, and pushed the heavy passenger door open.

Of course, the very second my feet hit the concrete pavement, the shift in the environment was instantaneous. The chaotic morning chatter of the nearest groups died down to a heavy, suffocating silence. It was immediately replaced by pointed stares, nudged elbows, and hushed whispering. Perfect, I thought, suppressing a miserable groan as I stood by the car. Exactly the kind of attention I was desperately hoping to avoid on day one.

Ace stepped out of the driver's side and walked around the hood, leaning against the frame with an encouraging, proud grin. "Head up, Yanina. Walk through those doors and show them you aren't intimidated by anyone."

His unwavering confidence in me provided a small, much-needed burst of courage. I smiled back, genuinely this time, feeling the warmth of his support. He stepped forward, gave me a quick, comforting kiss on the forehead, yelled a final goodbye, and hopped back into the driver's seat. I stood frozen on the sidewalk, watching his tail lights slowly vanish down the street into the morning mist, feeling suddenly and terrifyingly exposed. With one final breath, I turned my back to the road and faced the heavy front doors of Lakewood High.

Stepping into the main hallway felt exactly like walking onto a theater stage without knowing any of my lines. The whispers followed me like a bad echo, bouncing off the rows of lockers. Just ignore them, Yanina. Just keep moving forward. I kept my eyes focused straight ahead, navigating the sea of unfamiliar faces as I made a straight line toward the administrative office to track down my paperwork.

When I walked through the office door, a middle-aged woman was hunched over a veritable mountain of paperwork behind the front desk. I froze in the center of the room for a solid two minutes, completely paralyzed by my own mind, trying to frantically rehearse a simple, casual greeting. It felt incredibly pathetic to be this terrified of a secretary, but I finally forced my feet to move forward.

"Hi... sorry to bother you," I stammered. My voice cracked slightly on the first syllable, the words tripping over each other in a clumsy rush. "I’m a new senior... Yanina Miller. I’m just trying to pick up my schedule and locker info?"

I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Why did I have to stutter like a nervous toddler?

The woman didn't even bother to look up at me. She simply let out a heavy, tired sigh, reached into a massive filing cabinet to her left, pulled out a single printed sheet, and slid it across the counter without a single glance. Talk about a warm welcome to a new town.

"Thanks," I muttered to the top of her head, snatching the paper and making a incredibly swift exit back into the hallway.

According to the printout, I was assigned to locker 55. I bypassed it for now and scanned my classes for the day, trying to memorize the layout:

1st Period: English (Room 101) – At least I actually like English.

2nd Period: History (Room 94)

3rd Period: Art (Room 102) – Definitely looking forward to this one.

4th Period: Calculus (Room 86)

Lunch

5th Period: Chemistry (Room 85)

6th Period: P.E. (Gym)

7th Period: Biology (Room 84)

It wasn't a terrible lineup, but a sudden wave of fresh panic hit me when I realized I had absolutely no clue where Room 101 actually was. I checked the digital clock on the wall—7:42 AM. The first morning bell was scheduled to ring in exactly eight minutes, and the hallways were rapidly turning into a chaotic, frantic blur of students rushing in every possible direction.

Spotting a classroom plaque labeled Room 91 nearby gave me a sudden clue; if the nineties were down here, the triple digits had to be upstairs. Thank goodness I ran track at my old school, because I had to weave through the dense crowd like a football player and sprint up the concrete stairwell just to beat the countdown.

I burst through the door of Room 101 with only two minutes to spare. Like clockwork, a dozen heads turned instantly to track my entrance. Scanning the rapidly filling room for a safe place to land, I noticed a girl sitting near the back windows. She was completely absorbed in her phone, totally detached from the classroom drama. Best of all, there was an empty desk right next to her left side.

I approached her slowly, trying my best to project a level of confidence I didn't actually possess. "Hey, sorry to bother you, but is anyone sitting here?"

She looked up from her screen, and I was instantly struck by how genuinely striking she was. She had bright, intelligent hazel eyes, a natural radiant glow that barely required any makeup, and strawberry blonde hair falling perfectly past her shoulders. Instead of giving me a cold, judgmental stare, her lips curved into a warm, incredibly welcoming smile.

"No, go ahead! It's all yours," she said, gesturing to the chair.

"Thank you so much," I replied, letting out a massive sigh of relief as I slid into the plastic chair and dropped my bag.

"Of course. You're the new girl, right?" she asked, turning entirely in her seat to face me.

My anxiety flared back up instantly, making my skin prickle. "Yeah... wait, is it really that obvious?"

She laughed softly, a pleasant, easy sound. "Well, Lakewood is a pretty small town. Word travels incredibly fast when someone new shows up, especially a senior. It’s been years since we had a new face around here. I'm Amy Lockwood, by the way." She extended her hand across the small gap between our desks.

"Yanina Miller. Nice to meet you, Amy."

We shook hands, and Amy gave me one last friendly nod before dropping her attention back down to her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen as if she was answering a major crisis.

I wanted to ask her about the empty seat on her other side, but before I could get the words out, the classroom door flew open with a loud, dramatic thud.

"I made it! Barely alive, but I made it!" a brunette girl gasped. She was completely out of breath as she practically collapsed into the vacant chair on Amy's right. A few people nearby snickered at the loud entrance, but she completely ignored them, tossing her bag onto the floor.

Amy immediately reached over and playfully smacked her arm. "Are you serious right now? You absolute brat, I’ve been texting you for twenty minutes! I thought you got into a car accident!"

"Ow! Calm down, violent woman," the brunette complained, rubbing her arm with a dramatic, exaggerated pout. "My alarm didn't go off, my phone died, and I had to literally sprint from the far parking lot. I’m sorry, okay?"

Amy rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the amused smile tugging at her lips. She turned back to face me, gesturing toward her chaotic friend. "Yanina, this disaster of a human is my best friend, Amadine. Amadine, this is Yanina."

Amadine beamed at me, her energy just as bright and inviting as Amy's. "Hey, Yanina! Just call me Amadine. Don't listen to her, I'm the normal one."

"Nice to meet you, Amadine," I smiled, finally starting to feel the heavy tension leave my shoulders for the first time all morning.

"Since you're completely new to this jungle, why don't you just stick with us today?" Amy offered kindly. "We can show you where your next classes are and you can sit with us at lunch. Save you from getting totally lost or eaten alive by the cliques."

A massive rush of relief washed over me, soothing the last of my nerves. But before I could even vocalize how thankful I was, the final bell cut through the room, and the teacher walked in to start the session. I looked back at Amy and gave her an enthusiastic nod.

"I'd honestly love that. Thank you."

Amy and Amadine exchanged a delighted, silent squeal that instantly earned them a sharp warning look from the teacher at the board. I couldn't help but chuckle softly as I pulled out my notebook. Maybe this place wasn't going to be a disaster after all. Against all odds, I had actually made friends.

Yanina’s POV

Have you ever sat through a class that felt like an absolute, never-ending eternity? That was precisely the torture I was enduring during my very first period at Lakewood High.

When the teacher had first marched into the room and introduced himself as Mr. Liam Anderson, my stomach had dropped. I fully expected him to do the typical, agonizing teacher routine: announce to the room that they had a new transfer student, and then force me to stand up and deliver a terribly awkward introductory speech about myself. But to my immense relief, the exact opposite happened. Instead of putting me on display, Mr. Anderson merely waved me up to his desk to hand over a packet of school guidelines. He gave me a brief, monotone lecture about graduation requirements and maintaining proper student discipline—stuff I already thoroughly understood from my old school—before dismissing me back to my seat.

From there, he immediately launched into a dense, incredibly dry lecture on whatever topic the class was currently covering. If I'm being completely honest, I probably should have been taking notes or trying to catch up, but a quick glance around the room revealed that absolutely no one else was paying attention either. The entire class was checked out, completely absorbed in their own private worlds, passing notes or scrolling under their desks.

Coming from a strict, highly regimented boarding school environment, the total lack of structure felt incredibly jarring. At my old school, if your eyes drifted from the chalkboard for even a second, you’d be reprimanded on the spot. Here, it was total anarchy by comparison. I tried so hard to force my brain to concentrate on Mr. Anderson's droning voice, but my mind kept drifting. Eventually, I just gave up. It was a bizarre feeling, honestly—I couldn't remember the last time I had just entirely thrown in the towel on a lesson, but the sheer exhaustion of the morning had finally caught up to me.

When the sharp chime of the bell finally cut through the air ten minutes later, a massive, involuntary sigh of relief escaped my lips. I practically shoved my notebook into my backpack, threw the strap over my shoulder, and eager to escape, darted out into the hallway. One down, I thought. Six to go.

As soon as I cleared the doorway, I spotted Amy and Amadine standing by the lockers. A sudden wave of gratitude hit me; in my rush to escape the classroom, I had almost forgotten their promise to escort me through the labyrinth of hallways.

"Hey!" Amadine called out as I approached.

We traded quick, relieved hellos before heading down toward the ground floor corridors. As it turned out, my luck was actually holding up—we all shared the exact same second-period History class. Having two familiar faces walking beside me made the oppressive weight of the crowded hallway feel a little lighter.

"So, Yanina," Amy started, turning her head toward me as we navigated the throng of students. "Do you want the official, inside scoop on this place? Oh, wait—is it cool if I call you Yanina? Yanina just feels so formal, kind of like how Amadine is a mouthful, but then again, I literally just used your full name, and honestly, my brain just moves faster than my mouth sometimes, so—"

Before Amy could finish her mile-a-minute sentence, Amadine reached over and solidly swatted the back of her head. I froze in surprise, my eyes widening at the casual violence, but I was even more amazed by how fast Amy could actually talk without taking a single breath.

"Ow! You absolute psycho, that actually hurt!" Amy hissed, instantly stopping her monologue to rub the back of her head, throwing a barrage of creative curses in Amadine's direction. It didn't take long to realize that Amy had quite the colorful vocabulary when provoked.

"Well, I'm sorry, but would you please stop rambling about syllables and save the campus tour for later?" Amadine countered, shooting Amy an incredibly pointed look. "If you haven't noticed, we are actually going to be late for History, and Mr. Harrison does not play around with the tardy bell. Besides, I'm sure Yanina would much rather hear your entire life story over lunch anyway. Right, Yanina?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, doing everything in my power to keep from bursting out laughing right there in the middle of the hall. They were total polar opposites—Amy was a chaotic, fast-talking ball of energy, while Amadine was the pragmatic, sharp-tongued voice of reason. I honestly had no idea how two people so fundamentally different had managed to become inseparable best friends.

"Yeah, absolutely," I managed to say, offering Amy a reassuring smile. "Yanina is totally fine. And the school breakdown can definitely wait until we have food."

Amy pouted for a fraction of a second before her bright smile returned, nodding in agreement. We slipped into the History classroom just as the final bell echoed through the PA system. This time, thankfully, the material was actually engaging, and I found myself genuinely paying attention to the lesson.

The rest of the morning flew by in a blur of unfamiliar hallways, and before I knew it, the chaotic roar of the lunch bell signaled the middle of the day.

Periods three and four had been a bit of an awkward, lonely struggle simply because Amy and Amadine weren't in either of those blocks with me. Navigating those classrooms entirely on my own had brought back a nagging hint of my morning anxiety. Fortunately, they had kept their promise to meet me right outside my fourth-period door the second class let out. Seeing their familiar, warm smiles waiting for me in the hallway felt like a lifesaver.

Together, we navigated the heavy traffic flowing into the massive, sunlit cafeteria. We grabbed our trays from the lunch line and threaded our way through the rows of tables, ultimately settling on a long rectangular table situated right in the dead center of the room.

As I pulled out my chair, a strange, prickling sensation began to creep up the back of my neck. I couldn't quite pinpoint why my intuition was suddenly on high alert, but it probably had something to do with the fact that Amy and Amadine had deliberately left three empty seats right next to us, as if they were saving space for someone specific.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling, I sat down and took a quiet bite of my sandwich. My curiosity about Lakewood High was burning, and since the table was relatively quiet, I decided it was the perfect time to restart our earlier conversation.

"So, Amy," I began, setting my sandwich down. "You mentioned earlier that you were going to give me the real rundown on this school?"

The moment the question left my mouth, Amy stopped mid-chew. A brilliant, dangerously bright smile spread across her face. I immediately shot a desperate, questioning glance over at Amadine, silently asking, What did I just unleash?

Amadine didn't say a word. She just rolled her eyes at her best friend's dramatic shift in demeanor, shrugged her shoulders, and silently mouthed the words: Get ready.

Before I could even process the warning, Amy launched into her presentation. "Okay, so first things first: most of the faculty here are actually pretty cool, assuming you stay on their good side. But whatever you do, pray you never get assigned to Mrs. Mebbin. She is a certified, card-carrying bi—well, let’s just say she’s not exactly a fan of teenagers. You know the type."

I nodded, suppressing a chuckle, and gestured for her to keep going.

"And our campus layout is decent. The swimming pool is actually massive, but the gymnasium..." Amy paused, letting out a dramatic, suffering groan. "Ugh, it’s a total nightmare. The P.E. coaches make you work until you are completely drenched in sweat, and honestly, it is just living hell. I can’t even describe how gross it is." She rolled her eyes, making a highly exaggerated face of pure disgust.

"Sounds to me like you just really hate working out," I teased softly.

Amadine chimed in with a smirk. "Oh, trust me, Yanina. There is a very, very long list of things our resident Queen Amy thoroughly despises."

Amy scoffed loudly, tossing a carrot stick at Amadine before turning her undivided attention back to me. "Anyway! The point is, I am your ultimate source for all campus data. I make it my personal business to know exactly who is who in this town. Every clique, every rumor, every single boy."

"Speaking of boys," Amadine interrupted, her eyebrows wiggling mischievously as a wicked smirk spread across her lips. "Where exactly is Rio today? I haven't seen his truck in the parking lot all morning."

The confident aura Amy had been projecting instantly shattered. She choked slightly on her drink, coughing awkwardly as a sudden flush hit her cheeks. "Oh, please," she muttered, rolling her eyes with a bit too much force. "I am honestly thrilled he’s skipping. Today has been wonderfully peaceful without him."

My internal confusion meter was officially off the charts. I looked between the two of them, completely out of the loop. "Uh, guys? Who exactly is Rio?"

Amadine leaned forward eagerly. "He's—"

But whatever explanation Amadine was about to give was completely cut off by a booming, distinct male voice echoing across the cafeteria. Seriously? I thought to myself, a bit annoyed. What is it with people constantly interrupting conversations today?

"What's up, babes?!" the voice shouted.

I instinctively turned my head toward the cafeteria entrance, and the sight nearly made me freeze. Three incredibly good-looking guys were sauntering into the room. The entire cafeteria seemed to shift on its axis; half the students were staring at them in sheer awe, a few teachers looked on with visible exhaustion, and a good portion of the girls in the room were practically drooling.

To my absolute horror, the trio was walking directly toward our table.

The boy who had shouted the greeting was leading the pack. He had light brown hair, an easy, confident stride, and a distinctly athletic build that was completely emphasized by a tight blue t-shirt, dark jeans, and classic converse.

Walking just behind him was a second guy who carried himself with a more laid-back, effortless charm. He had a mop of slightly curly black hair, a model-esque physique, and was dressed in a casual grey tee and dark denim. As his eyes scanned our table, a friendly, easygoing smile crossed his face.

But it was the boy walking right in the center of the group that completely caught me off guard. Let's just say he was, without a doubt, the most striking person I had ever seen in my life. He had a messy, perfectly chaotic mane of dark hair and was wearing a classic black leather jacket over a plain white tee, paired with ripped blue jeans. There was a dangerous, magnetic aura radiating off him that made my heart do a sudden, violent flip.

And then, his dark eyes locked directly onto mine.

He didn't break eye contact for a single second as they closed the distance to our table. A intense, burning blush immediately crept up my neck and flooded my face. Panicking, I forced myself to look away, staring intently down at my half-eaten sandwich. I was completely out of my depth here; dealing with normal people was hard enough, but dealing with guys like him was an entirely different story.

I glanced over at my friends to see how they were reacting. Amadine still had that identical, highly amused smirk plastered across her face, but Amy had gone completely rigid, her posture incredibly tense.

"Amy?" I whispered under my breath, leaning in slightly. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Amy let out a long, defeated sigh, her voice dropping to a cautious murmur. "Yanina... meet the self-proclaimed bad boys of Lakewood High."

The very second the words left her mouth, the three boys slid effortlessly into the empty seats right next to us. A fresh wave of intense nervousness washed over me, trapping the air in my lungs. My mind was suddenly spinning with a million frantic questions. But two specific thoughts kept overriding everything else: Why had the loud, bubbly Amy suddenly gone completely silent? And if these guys were truly the dangerous, rule-breaking bad boys of the school... why on earth were they sitting with us?