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ARK'S POV
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The next morning, dread woke up with me.
I could feel it pressing against my chest before I even opened my eyes. The memory of my own voice- loud, cracking, humiliating- still echoed in my head.
"Why did you kiss me?!"
I wanted to bury myself under the blanket and never come out. But school wasn't something I could escape. My mother was already calling me from the kitchen, telling me to eat before I left. I was now using the school bus. What a nightmare.
I dragged myself up, tugging my scarf tighter, higher, until half my face disappeared. A ghost pretending to be a girl.
At the bus stop, my stomach twisted. Every pair of students who glanced my way, every whisper that floated in the air, felt like it was meant for me.
And by the time I reached the gates, I knew.
The rumor had spread.
It was everywhere- leaking from every mouth, weaving through every corridor.
"She said Jade kissed her."
"Seriously? Her?"
"She probably made it up."
"Please. He'd never."
Each word snagged against me like claws. No one looked me directly in the eye, but I could feel the burn of their stares, slipping over me, stripping me down.
My steps quickened, scarf brushing against my lips as if it could shield me.
But then the laughter came.
High. Sharp. Familiar.
Tasha and Charlotte leaned against the lockers, giggling loud enough for the hallway to hear. And in between them stood Melissa- all glossy hair, sharp eyes, and a smile that could kill.
"Well, well," she said, her voice syrupy sweet but dripping poison underneath. "If it isn't the girl. The one who thinks she's kissed Jade."
My legs locked. I couldn't move.
Charlotte pressed a hand over her mouth, fake-gasping. "Wait, Melissa, maybe it's true. Maybe Jade lowered his standards."
Tasha's laugh followed, cruel and cutting.
Melissa tilted her head, eyes gleaming as they landed on me. "Tell me, scarf girl- was it in your head? Or did he actually mistake you for someone worth touching?"
Heat rushed into my face beneath the scarf. My fists clenched at my sides. I wanted to shout back, to tell them they didn't know, that I hadn't lied. But my throat betrayed me, words choking into silence.
Melissa smirked, satisfied. "Thought so."
They brushed past me, perfume and laughter trailing behind, leaving me rooted to the floor, shaking.
Thank goodness this time they didn't shove or punch me. Or is it that they will.
By the time I reached class, my insides felt scraped hollow. I slid into my seat quickly, praying to blend into the desk, into the wall, into anything invisible.
But the whispers followed me in.
"She actually thinks Jade kissed her."
"Poor thing. She's delusional."
"Bet he doesn't even know her name."
The words dripped from every corner of the room, filling it like smoke. My pen trembled against the page.
And then- silence.
The door clicked open.
He walked in.
Jade.
Late, as always. Lazy smirk tugging at his lips, dark hair falling into his eyes. The room shifted instantly, the whispers dying like someone had strangled them mid-breath.
He didn't look at anyone. He didn't even hesitate.
He just dropped into the seat beside me.
Like nothing had happened.
Like yesterday hadn't cracked the world open.
My breath faltered. I braced myself for mockery, for a smirk aimed sharp at me.
But when I dared to glance sideways, his gaze was already there- steady, unreadable. And then, softer than I expected, he leaned just close enough for only me to hear.
"What's wrong. Is it about yesterday"
He asked. Low. Solid. Carved straight into my chest.
I blinked at him, stunned.
He doesn't know or he's pretending not to know.
He leaned back casually, as if he hadn't said a thing, his attention flicking lazily to the board. But his hand stretched out across the desk, fingers brushing mine- a silent anchor.
The whispers burned at the edge of the room, but they couldn't touch me the same way anymore. Not with his fingers casually brushing into mine like I was something too fragile to break.
The rest of the day blurred- lessons I didn't hear, words I didn't understand. I only felt the weight of stares pressing against me, and the shadow of him beside me, calm, unbothered, untouchable.
When the final bell rang, I tried to slip out quickly, desperate for air. But his hand caught my wrist before I made it past the door.
My breath hitched.
"Wait," he said, voice firm, pulling me back. The classroom emptied around us, footsteps fading into the hall.
I turned, heart hammering. "What do you want?"
His smirk curved, but his eyes- they weren't mocking. They were steady, sharp. "You look like you're about to break."
"I'm not." The lie cracked in my throat.
He leaned down, lowering his voice until it brushed the edge of my scarf. "Let them talk. That's all they know how to do. They don't matter."
My chest tightened. My pulse thrashed.
He knew.
"Why are you…" I faltered. "…why are you saying this?"
His smirk softened, just a flicker. "Because I don't like anyone messing with what's mine."
"Don't worry about them, let them talk. They don't know anything. Only you and I know what's real. And what happened between us"
The words landed heavy, curling heat and fear together in my stomach.
Before I could reply, he let go of my wrist and straightened, his usual mask sliding back into place. He brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and walked out like the world was his.
I stood frozen, his voice echoing in my head.
Don't mind them.
What's mine.
At home, I couldn't untangle it.
I chopped vegetables again with my mom, nodding absently at her questions, but inside I was replaying every second- Melissa's words cutting me down, the whispers choking me, and then him. His calm. His smirk. His hand on mine.
And his voice, steady as a brand:
You're already mine.
By the time I shut my bedroom door, my scarf still smelled faintly like him. My hand still tingled where his fingers had brushed.
I pulled the candy from my drawer, staring at its shiny foil, at the stupid little piece of sweetness he had given me.
A laugh bubbled in my throat, shaky and bitter and soft all at once.
They could whisper all they wanted.
He had whispered too.
And only his words mattered.