Chapter 1

Florence

Honestly, I’ve been wanting to get hit by a car for a while now. Therefore, I really shouldn’t complain now that I’m lying flat on my back on the hard concrete like a bug and just as unable to get up.

Stupid, heavy backpack!

For the record, I really did not wish for this to happen right in front of school just as all the students file out of their buses and onto the sidewalk a few feet away from me. I also didn’t anticipate the Vehicle hitting me being a bus.

“Are you okay?” the old driver asks, crouching down next to me. All around us, more students gather, some reaching for their phones to point their cameras at me. No, I’m not okay, I think. I am mortified.

I try to slip out of my backpack with some remaining dignity only to wince as I realize that my shoulder hurts like a female dog. Dammit! I don’t have time to get it checked out with my law exam this afternoon.

If I miss it, Miss Yeng will be angry, which is the last thing I want. The old lady is seriously scary, and she doesn’t like staying after school so a student can write a make-up test. I speak of experience, and the memory of her cold, dead eyes boring into me as I try to focus on the made up case on the paper is enough to make me shudder.

The only silver lining is that it’s Friday. Maybe my classmates will forget all about my little incident here over the weekend and by the time Monday rolls around, I can blend in once again. One can only hope.

“Can you hear me?” the bus driver repeats slowly, dragging me from my thoughts. His face has taken on a pallid sheen, his eyes wide with panic at the thought of having broken my head. Note to self, zoning out after being hit by a bus is not the right time.

“Yes. Sorry, yes. I’m all right,” I assure him, brushing him off with a wobbly smile. To really sell it, I try to get back to my feet once more, ignoring the agony in my shoulder and the stars that dot my vision when the thick straps of my backpack drag me down.

Clearly noting my struggle, the bus driver jumps in to help, his careful hands grabbing me by the elbows. “Hang on, let me help you. Oh gosh, I’m really sorry. I didn’t see you. Do you need a ride to the hospital?” he gushes as he pulls me to my feet. I feel so bad for making this old man worry this much when it was my fault for crossing the street with my attention elsewhere, I can hardly look into his eyes.

I shake my head instead, looking at my blouse as if I had to straighten it. “That’s okay, really. Have a good day.” With a parting smile in his vague direction, I rush to the sidewalk and try to disappear in the crowd of students. That, at least, turns out to be a simple task seeing as all the scholars of Sommerstall Academy are heading to their first period now that I’m no longer stuck on my back like a dead bug.

Attraction over. My cheeks can stop burning now.

But I’m not that lucky, and as I think back to how I managed to get hit by a bus that drove about 5 mph on a street I cross every day, I feel my blush intensify with embarrassment. All I can say is that it was not my fault. If he hadn’t caught my eye from where he was sitting inside that bloody vehicle, looking brooding and mysterious, I would have noticed that the bus ahead of his was starting to drive.

I didn’t possess the self-control to keep my eyes from straying his way. I never do.

And so, with his dark messy hair, disheveled by the big headphones he always had on, and the intense look in his eyes as he looked outside the window with absolutely no regard or attention for me, I was wholeheartedly distracted. Who wouldn’t swoon over an attractive man oblivious to one’s existence.

I hope the courtesy extends to this incident so that he didn’t notice me be hit by a bus either. If he saw me like that, I would have to switch schools, and that would be a shame since I live basically one street over from this one.

I’m just thankful I didn’t drive to school today. That would have been a whole different sort of commotion, and if anything would have happened to my Vespa, I would have cried. On a nice spring day like today though, the helmet-hair just wasn’t worth it, so I chose to take the fifteen-minute walk upon myself instead.

With my head still ducked low and my arm cradled to my chest to appease my throbbing shoulder, I enter the classroom and sit down at my desk. School starts in ten minutes, so I can still read. I should have time for at least five pages if no one interrupts me.

Thank God for small mercies. A distraction in the form of three mouthwatering males taking care of their mate is exactly what I need to forget I made a fool out of myself in front of all my peers.

I take my book out of my backpack, trying not to wince as I move my left arm. Luckily, I always carry my current read inside a protective bag, so today’s fall hasn’t damaged it. With my record, “rather safe than sorry” is the key to survival. The tight ball of anxiety in my gut relents a fraction knowing there’s one less thing to worry about.

“Hey, Lorence! I heard you came face to face with a bus this morning. How’s that for a first kiss?” my classmate Orion jaunts on his way to his chair on the opposite side of the classroom.

Lorence. I hate that nickname, which, naturally, is exactly why he keeps using it.

“Probably better than yours,” I fire back, and for a second, he actually looks impressed. Or shocked. Who can tell with this guy? Before he can remark on my uncharacteristically bold reply, I mumble “Sorry, that was mean,” not wanting to cause a scene and drag this interaction out when the reprieve of fiction is waiting for me. I turn back to my book and sink deeper into my chair. What is wrong with me?

Today really is a cursed day, and I’m not able to lose myself in the written words when Orion starts talking to his friends, Liam and Marcus, at a volume so loud I wonder if they want to entertain the entire room. It takes my everything not to let it agitate me. Honestly, some people have no respect for others. It’s eight am. I don’t care about the results of a stupid soccer match.

I sink deeper into my chair, scrunching my face up as if that could help me focus on the story in my hands. Instead, I’m interrupted once more, this time by a much kinder voice.

“Morning Flo. I heard what happened. Are you okay?” Benji asks as he enters the room. He stops near my chair, leaning down to pull me in a sideway hug. It’s slightly awkward since I’m sitting and he’s a giant, but I appreciate any hug I can get.

Even at eight am, the smell of weed clings to him, and when he pulls back to grin lopsidedly, I note the redness in his eyes. His ginger curls are messy atop his head, like he couldn’t be bothered to style them, and the sight of his disheveled state brings a genuine smile to my lips. At least I’m not the only one who surely looks out of sorts after my stunt on the street.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.” I look past my friend as a glimpse of black hair catches my eye. Elija walks past Benji, sending me a nearly imperceptible smile before sitting down next to Orion.

I can feel my cheeks heat like they always do when he does that. It’s the height of our interactions, and it shouldn’t mean anything to me like I’m sure it means nothing to him, but like the crazy deluded girl that I am, I feel my heart skip a beat. I try to hide my gooey eyes since everyone else would think I’m crazy to melt over an impassive smile he grants all our classmates he never speaks to. Just like me.

 I don’t know what it is with this guy. I can usually handle people smiling at me. Hell, I smile at everyone I cross paths with. He’s the only exception. Maybe it’s his unruly black hair, his chains and rings, his cute brown eyes, or those soft-looking lips- Oh, never mind. I already got hit by a bus once thinking about Elija. That should be my last and final sign to drop this obsession.

I drag my gaze back to Benji’s only for him to lift a thick, orange eyebrow knowingly. I laugh, embarrassed at having been caught staring, and shove my friend away.

He chuckles knowingly to himself as he heads toward his friends, and I track his movement to subtly get another look at Elija despite myself. Who am I kidding? I will never manage to stop fantasizing about him, and honestly, school would be a lot more boring if I did. To his right, I notice Jamie’s already in his seat, which means their group is now complete.

More students file into the room, smiling at me in greeting, and I’m too busy returning each one to read a single page before class begins. I deflate when the bell rings and I know I’ll have to wait for the sweet relief of the romantasy story for another while.

The next forty-five minutes consist of me trying to focus on the teacher’s lecture as I fight the urge to look at a certain guy on the other side of the room. The only thing possibly better than reading because my deranged mind makes up stories of its own when I look at him. Improbable scenarios where his smile lingers and his gaze contains longing for me.

Even after a year of being in the same class, the scenarios haven’t gotten old. It’s embarrassing that I still get excited every time I see him. It’s not even like we’ve exchanged more than two sentences in all the time we’ve known each other. Still, he just somehow piques my interest and it hasn’t waned since the first day of the school year.

That’s why Friday is a highlight. It’s the day when most people go out for lunch while I stay in the classroom to do my homework or study. Elija and some of his friends, for their part, often return to the room in a matter of minutes.

Even though the two of us don’t speak, without the distraction of a teacher up front, I keep catching him staring at me just as much as I get caught myself. I’d be scared he thought I was a creep if it weren’t for that small smile he keeps flashing me. That smile, dammit.

As soon as our first period is over, I make a move to pick up my book. I need this. Need the break from reality to wash away the lingering discomfort at the thought of my scene before school. I wish my mind didn’t make such a big deal out of this, but I can’t shake the oppressive feeling in my stomach knowing I made such a fool out of myself.

The only thing that can help me now is mentally vanishing into a whole different world, but before I can start reading, Benji calls my name. “Flo! Come over here!” I raise my head to find him waving as if we were miles apart rather than a few feet.

It’s hard to be mad at him for the insistent interruption when I know he means well. He probably sees me by myself in the breaks with my nose buried in books and thinks I’m a sad loner. I sigh to myself and come to terms with the fact that I won’t get to read this time either. I close the book, line it up perfectly with the side of my desk, and get to my feet to walk over to the guys.

“Hey, flower girl,” Jamie greets me with a bright smile. Out of the six guys, he’s probably the one I’m the least nervous around. With his happy-go-lucky attitude, his constant jokes and the ever-present smile on his lips, he leaves no room for my shyness.

Of course, Benji’s chill to hang out with. And then, there’s Elija. Although that is different. I’ve interacted with him the least, and I wouldn’t exactly say I’m not jittery around him. He makes me a whole different sort of nervous.

Not in a bad way, though. It’s not like he intimidates me like some of his friends. 

“Hi, Jamie. Benji, what’d you call me over for?” I inquire, fighting the urge to fidget as I stand awkwardly before their row of desks.

“You looked so lonely over there.” Benji winks and I get the feeling this is him trying to be a wingman because he noticed my straying eyes earlier. I stifle a laugh.

“I was just about to read,” I say, clearly disappointing him by not playing along.

Before we can fall into an awkward silence, Jamie asks, “So, no scratch from the accident earlier? All limbs still attached to the right place?”

That’s what I like so much about him. He always knows how to keep a conversation going and tends to make the people around him smile in the process.

He throws his head back to get his blond hair out of his eyes and kicks his feet on the table in an easy matter.

“Yes, sir,” I say with a fake salute. Then, catching myself, I quickly put my hand back down and try to cover my embarrassment with a laugh. That’s another something that’ll keep me up at night. Knowing Elija is looking at me only makes it worse. He just saw every second of me making a fool out of myself.

Besides, what I said isn’t strictly true. My shoulder is still throbbing and hot while my arm from the elbow down feels weirdly cool and tingly. Oh well. No use in dwelling on it or announcing to the world what a clumsy idiot I am. Nope, that is a secret better kept to myself.

“I would sue that bus driver if I were you. Of course, if I were you, I wouldn’t have gotten hit in the first place, but you’re always tripping over things, aren’t you?” Liam asks from where he’s sitting, looking as smug as ever.

I let my eyes trail over him quickly; brown, slicked-back hair, grey eyes, and always dressed to the nines. A bit extravagant for school, but I couldn’t imagine him pairing anything as casual as jeans with the shirt embroidered with the Academy’s sigil we’re all forced to wear.

He’d be handsome if it weren’t for his need to act like he’s better than the rest of us simply because he has unlimited access to daddy’s money.

Benji rolls his eyes before burying his head in his arms, no doubt done with the day. I smile at the way his orange curls splay against the sleeves of his green sweater, like a band of fiery flowers on a field, before turning my attention to Liam.

“I guess I am,” I reply with my smile intact. He doesn’t bother me enough to make a dent in my mood.

If anything, I feel bad for him. He’s not exactly pleasant most of the time, and I think not even his friends truly like him. They’ve been rolling their eyes at him for as long as I’ve known them. Despite all the watching I’ve done, I haven’t figured out why they still hang out with him, though.

Not that Liam seems to care about them much more. I’m pretty sure he only uses them for invites to parties or because it looks good to the rest of the school to be friends with Marcus.

Speaking of the devil. “You’d sue anyone for no real reason,” Marcus reminds Liam, dragging the attention away from me. I smile at him for that.

Opposite to Liam, he seems like a nice guy even though he wouldn’t have to be. As captain of the academy’s soccer team, he could probably act like a jerk and still be drooled over by most of the students. Not that I blame them. His brown, wavy hair that almost reaches his neck, paired with those hazel eyes do make a good combination. The workouts and practices he attends almost every day don’t hurt the image either.

He’s not as easy-going as Benji or as sweet as Jamie, but he seems down to earth. Very intimidating at times but not mean.

The silence stretches on for a few seconds, only for Orion to break it. “I guess I am,” he finally mocks me, the words bursting out of him as if he couldn’t help it. His late reaction makes me think he tried to keep the comment to himself but ended up changing his mind.

It’s such an untimely mock that Jamie bursts out laughing in apparent disbelief. “What is wrong with you?” he snorts.

I’ve been wondering the same thing about the white-haired guy, but it doesn’t seem to be personal. He tends to mock people for no reason whenever he gets bored, so I just ignore him.

He is merely another rude person blessed with a beautiful shell. Their whole friend group consists of handsome members. So much so that I’m wondering whether that´s some sort of condition.

Orion’s hair is the lightest shade of blond, and his eyes are as blue as the sky on a clear day. He’s attractive in a slightly dangerous way with those hard features and sharp angles.

Turning to me, Jamie adds, “Sorry, as you can tell, we haven’t yet succeeded at teaching our parrot proper manners.” Orion turns to glare at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Cupcake, you’ll get there,” Jamie adds sweetly, petting his head. At the touch, Orion gets up from his seat and starts chasing him through the room.

There’s some laughter amongst our classmates until the teacher for our next class arrives and puts a stop to the show.

The rest of the morning passes blissfully uneventfully.

When the bell finally announces the start of our lunch break, I feel the usual anticipation growing. Everyone gets out of the room while I start on my homework. Less than ten minutes later, Elija sits back down at his desk along with Benji. They eat their food in silence, both of them wearing headphones same as me.

Since I feel no eyes on me for once, I’m able to focus on the worksheet ahead of me. When I’m done, I consider getting my book out to read, but another urge takes over, and I find myself taking a seat opposite my friend. Benji smiles at me before taking off his headphones.

Without a word, he places them on my head, and I pause the music playing on the one Airpod I’m still wearing to listen to whatever he wants to show me.

He does that sometimes; letting me listen to a certain song he likes while he gauges my reaction. He doesn’t talk much, but I think this is his way of showing affection. I, for one, adore it.

Today’s song is R&B soul like always, and I enjoy the vibes with my eyes closed, not caring what I look like with those big speakers on my ears. When it’s over, I hand the headphones back to my friend, trying not to wince because of my shoulder, and take his phone to show him a song I’ve been listening to recently.

When he shuts his eyes to take it in, I become painfully aware of someone else’s attention. I meet Elija’s gaze with a smile, and with a grin of his own, he reaches for me.

I’m stupefied for a second, thinking he’ll touch me or something, but he merely plucks Benji’s phone out of my hand instead. My heartbeat slows as he types something into his own and sits back down.

“It’s a song I like,” I explain quietly since I’m pretty sure he starts playing it himself. I know the two guys listen to similar songs, so he should probably be warned that this is one of mine.

“I know,” he says to my surprise. He goes back to scrolling through his phone, and I tear my eyes from him.

Not once have I been nervous about showing Benji something I liked, but with Elija listening to it, I suddenly feel self-conscious. It doesn’t matter if he won’t like it, I repeat to myself. Still, I really hope he will.

“I like it,” Benji tells me suddenly. I smile at him before glancing at Elija again. He meets my eyes at the exact same moment, smiling. That’s all it takes to make me blush like a preschooler.

“It’s great. I love the beat,” he tells me, making the pressure bleed from my shoulders. He loves the beat. It takes everything I’ve got not to squeal at the minuscule sign of his approval. Already, this talk puts the overall wordcount between us up to its double. Perhaps this day isn’t cursed.

Our interaction of the day ends at that, and I return to my own desk since the other guys come back into the room. I try to focus on reading but, as usual, they talk too loudly for me to lose myself in a different world.

“Elija, you’re coming to the gym after school, right?” Marcus asks, and I give up on trying to read. Instead, I stare at my book, trying not to look like I’m eavesdropping.

“Can’t today,” he tells his friends.

“Why? You always tag along on Tuesdays and Fridays,” Liam pushes.

Meanwhile, I had no idea he worked out. He’s always wearing hoodies that conceal his body. All I know is that he’s a few inches taller than Benji and his shoulders fill out the thick sweaters like no one’s business.

“I have a doctor’s appointment to get that birthmark on my side checked,” he mumbles, his voice so low I nearly don’t catch the words. He’s usually more quiet and subdued compared to his noisy friends, and the fact that I have to strain my ears to hear him makes me feel ten times worse for snooping.

Without missing a beat, Jamie reaches for his friend’s hand, grasps it tightly, and speaks dramatically, “Listen to me, Sunshine. We’ll get through this. You won’t die on my watch.”

I try to stifle a laugh but know I failed miserably when Elija looks at me. Our eyes clash for a second before I tear mine back to my book, my skin burning from my neck to the tips of my ears.