Next Day
I walk into school, head down, eyes scanning the room like I'm invisible, yet every voice, every whisper, slams into my ears. The rumors about David beating Alex senseless are everywhere. I can hear the graphic details—how David knocked Alex to the floor and left him in a pool of his own blood.
I know the story, because I saw the video. And the photos. The fight didn't happen in the cafeteria like everyone thinks. It went down behind the school after dark. Alex ended up in a coma, and David? He's in the hospital too, but for different reasons—symptoms that tell a story no one's brave enough to share.
But for Alex? Well, you reap what you sow. I'll leave it at that.
The day drags on like an endless blur. By the time I make it to the library, the usual scene is unfolding—Ashton and Parker, no entourage this time, which is a bit off but whatever. They've got that familiar container of brownies, and I can't help but wonder if this is their new "chill" spot.
I sit quietly, waiting for them to get high and spill whatever intel I can use. I've got a feeling today's gossip is going to shake the school. Maybe even shatter some friendships. Especially between Parker and Ashton. But for now, I'll keep it close to my chest.
The bell rings, dragging me out of my thoughts. I pack up quickly and slip out of the library, careful not to let them see me. Next up: study hall. The one period I share with Ashton and Parker. Of course, they sit right behind me. Perfect.
I think to myself, I should've stayed home today.
"Dude, I've fucked almost every girl in this school. There's no one I can't get," I overhear Ashton say, his voice full of that cocky swagger he's so used to.
"Oh really? So, you've fucked Jessica? Because if you have, you might want to get checked," Parker replies, his voice low and teasing. And just like that, Parker goes for the kill.
"As if. You and I both know I never touched that girl. And I get checked regularly, so don't even try me," Ashton snaps back. Weak comeback, but it's Ashton.
Parker's eyes scan the room, and I can feel his gaze shift in my direction. I don't turn around, but I know he's looking at me. Crap. My heart races as I slink lower into my seat, trying to avoid his stare. But I can't shake the feeling that his eyes are still on me.
Then, just as I try to disappear into the chair, I hear it. The whisper of my name. "Jasmine. Jasmine. Jasmine."
They're taunting me now. I feel the heat creeping up my neck. My pulse quickens. I can't take it. Not today.
Without thinking, I bolt out of my seat, straight for the door. I might have sprinted out of that classroom, but I don't look back. I can hear my teacher calling my name, but I don't care.
I just need to get out of here.
With twenty-five minutes left until school ends, I make a quick decision: I'm walking home. Alone.
But then I hear it—a shout. My name. I turn to look and see Ashton, of course, chasing me down the hall.
Nope. Not today, buddy.
I break into a sprint, my legs pumping faster, adrenaline kicking in. I feel like a track star, the wind pushing against me as I speed up. But then I feel it—his hand grabbing my arm, yanking me back.
Before I can react, I'm slammed against the wall, the impact knocking the breath out of me. My back aches, but I don't have time to think about that.
Ashton's voice is close, too close. "Why'd you run?"
I frown, still catching my breath. "I just needed some exercise. My leg was falling asleep." It's a weak excuse, but it's all I've got.
His forehead presses against mine, warm and sweaty, his body still trapping me against the wall. "I want you," he says, the words dripping from his lips like they've been rehearsed.
I raise an eyebrow. "Okay. So what do you want me to do about it?"
For a second, we just stand there, frozen. And then his lips crash into mine with so much force, I'm pushed back against the wall again. The pain from the impact is nothing compared to the shock coursing through me. Ashton Tyler is kissing me.
Now, I know what you're thinking—Why let him kiss you? Well, it's complicated. Ashton and I go way back. Our parents made us friends when we were kids, and this isn't the first time our lips have met. But it's different now. Messier. And way more complicated than I want to admit.