Eniya couldn't breathe.
She didn't remember leaving the locker room, or rushing past the hall monitors, or dodging the tournament clean-up crew. All she remembered was his lips — warm, reckless, like a dare set on fire — and the way her body betrayed her by kissing him back.
It wasn't supposed to happen.
Not with him.
Not with Alexandra freaking Morningstar.
By the time she made it home, her hands were still shaking.
She slammed her bedroom door shut, tossed her bag aside, and fell onto her bed, burying her face in the pillow like she could smother the memory. But it was useless.
The kiss played on repeat in her head like a forbidden song.
Why did I kiss him back?
She groaned, rolling over, staring at the ceiling. His face, those eyes, that stupid smirk — it haunted her like a spell she didn't know she'd been under.Across town, in a sprawling three-story mansion tucked behind gates lined with dragon statues, Alexandra sat in his room — lights off, hoodie on, the city lights flickering outside his window.
He couldn't stop replaying it either.
Her voice. Her eyes. The way she didn't push him away.
"Who the hell was she?" he muttered to himself.
His best friend, Ezra, lounged on his beanbag, flipping through a basketball magazine. "Bro, you've been zoning out since we left Riverhall. Who was that chick you were staring at all day?"
"I wasn't staring."
"You didn't blink for like thirty straight minutes, Morningstar."
Alexandra ignored him, running a hand through his black hair.
"You ever heard of a girl named Eniya Valedor?" he finally asked.
Ezra sat up straight. "Wait... what?"
Alexandra looked over. "Do you know her?"
Ezra's mouth dropped open. "Eniya? As in THE Eniya? East Crescent's princess? Smart, funny, probably descended from angels ? That Eniya?"
Alexandra's jaw clenched. "So you do."
"Bro," Ezra said slowly, dramatically, "you've never asked about a girl in the entire two years I've known you. You avoid them like the flu. And now you're asking about Eniya Valedor? What happened?"
Alexandra didn't answer. He wasn't ready to explain what happened in the locker room. Not yet.
Ezra grinned like a madman. "This is divine intervention, bro. This is destiny."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't. Because guess what? She's already on the list."
Alexandra frownedEzra stood up, pointing both fingers like it was some epic revelation. "The Midsummer Blaze, baby. My house. August. Every top student, athlete, musician, gamer, influencer, or just generally beautiful soul from San Francisco will be there. It's tradition. And your girl Eniya? Already invited."
Alexandra's heart did a weird thing.
"She's not my—"
"She will be." Ezra stood up, pointing both fingers like it was some epic revelation. "The Midsummer Blaze, baby. My house. August. Every top student, athlete, musician, gamer, influencer, or just generally beautiful soul from San Francisco will be there .It's tradition and your girl Eniya? Already invited ."
Back at East Crescent
Eniya sat at lunch with her best friend, Drea, who was halfway through her mashed potatoes and gossip about boys who didn't know how to dress.
"I still can't believe St. Luthor's snob tied with you. Like, what even was that logic?" Drea ranted.
Eniya didn't reply.
She was quiet. Too quiet.
Drea raised a brow. "Earth to Eniya?"
Eniya stirred her fruit cup. "Do you think it's possible to like someone you don't even know?"
Drea stopped chewing.
"Oh my God. Who is he?"
Eniya looked up slowly.
And smiled a little.
"The guy from St. Luthor's."
Drea gasped so loud it echoed. "Wait — the tall one? The one with the glasses and the 'I'm better than everyone but still hot' attitude?!"
Eniya groaned and dropped her face into her arms.
Drea started laughing. "Girl, you like a private school vampire prince. I can't. I literally can't."
Eniya peeked up through her hair. "He kissed me."
Drea's jaw dropped so hard her fork clanged to the tray.
---
Later That Week – August 18th – The Midsummer Blaze
The mansion glowed like a cathedral built out of neon.
Ezra's house looked like a castle swallowed by a rave. Red velvet lights, music that could wake the dead, and enough students to start a minor political movement. Every cool kid in San Francisco showed up — some in limos, some on skateboards, and a few with enough glitter to blind an angel.
Alexandra stood on the balcony above the ballroom, wearing all black — long sleeves, low-key designer. He looked like the storm before the thunder.
"She's here," Ezra said behind him, holding a red cup. "Valedor just walked in."
Alexandra turned his head.
There she was.
Eniya Valedor.
Blonde curls cascading over her shoulders. A deep purple dress that shimmered like starlight. Eyes like magic and mystery.
Every guy in the room stared.
Alexandra didn't blink.
Ezra leaned in. "You gonna talk to her?"
Alexandra's jaw tightened. "Not yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I want her to come to me."
Ezra laughed. "Damn. You're playing chess while the rest of us are eating crayons."