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ARK'S POV
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Morning started with the same weight in my chest, but heavier this time- like the air itself had thickened around me.
The bus ride was worse than usual. Whispers weren't whispers anymore; they were open, bold, slicing straight across the aisle. Phones glowed in students' hands. I didn't need to ask what they were looking at.
I already knew.
My stomach dropped when I caught the flicker of a screen angled too obviously in my direction. A blurry picture of me at my desk yesterday- my scarf, my hunched posture, Jade's head turned in my direction. The caption beneath:
"The scarf girl thinks she kissed Jade 🤣🤣🤣 delusional much?"
My throat tightened. Laughter buzzed like hornets around me, kids pressing their heads together, whispering and smirking.
When did someone take that.
I pressed my scarf higher, pretending the window held more than glass and dirt streaks. Pretending the whole bus wasn't vibrating with my name wrapped in mockery.
By the time we screeched into the school lot, my insides felt raw.
And then I saw it- Jade's red Mercedes, glinting in the morning sun, parked near the gate like it owned the ground. He leaned against it, arms crossed, talking to two guys. Effortless. Untouchable. The kind of sight that pulled every stare like a magnet.
But when my feet hit the pavement, the laughter rose again, sharper now- because the joke had found its stage.
"Yo, there she is!"
"Hey, scarf girl, blow him another kiss!"
"She probably dreams he even looked her way."
I sped up, my sneakers scuffing the concrete. If I walked faster, maybe the air wouldn't strangle me.
Inside the hallway, things were worse. Screens shoved into faces, reposts spreading like wildfire. Every group huddled in corners, eyes darting to me, laughter exploding. I didn't need to hear the words. The shape of their mouths was enough.
Kiss.
Liar.
Delusional.
And then, the trio.
Melissa. Charlotte. Tasha.
They stood in the center of it all like queens of the circus, the fire feeding on their smirks. Melissa's glossy hair shone under the fluorescent lights, her arms folded tight as if she had planned this entire morning just to watch me squirm.
"Well, looks like the internet got busy," she sang, her voice bright with cruelty. "Did you see, girls? She's trending."
Charlotte laughed so hard she bent over. "Should we ask Jade if he wants to sue for defamation? Poor guy's reputation!"
Tasha fake-pouted. "Aw, don't be mean. Maybe it's true. Maybe he wanted to see what kissing a freak felt like."
The hallway erupted.
Heat burned across my skin beneath the scarf. I wanted to shout, to tell them to shut up, to scream that none of them had been there, none of them had felt his fingers brush theirs.
But my throat locked. My lungs refused.
Melissa's smile sharpened. "Careful, scarf girl. Lies spread fast. And liars don't last long in this school."
She pivoted with a flip of her hair, her girls trailing after her, laughter snapping like a whip behind them.
I felt small. Smaller than ever
Class didn't save me. If anything, it pressed harder. The whispers followed me through every subject, every tick of the clock. My pen shook across the page until my notes were nothing but scribbles.
And then came the sound that sliced everything quiet.
The door opening.
Jade walked in, late, his presence louder than every whisper combined. The class stilled instantly.
And once again, he didn't hesitate. Didn't glance at anyone else. He dropped into the seat beside me like it was reserved for him, like my shadow had always been his.
The silence thickened.
I couldn't look. I couldn't breathe. But I felt it- the weight of his gaze on me. And when I finally dared to turn, his eyes were there, steady, dark, unreadable.
He didn't say anything, not at first. He just let the air crush me until I thought I'd shatter. And then, quietly, low enough for only me:
"Don't look like that. They don't matter."
My pulse lurched.
He leaned back casually, but his hand slid across the desk again—like yesterday. Fingers brushing mine. Deliberate. Claiming.
And the whispers? They didn't matter in that second. Not when his touch seared straight through me.
By lunch, the storm broke.
I hadn't even made it to the cafeteria before voices swelled near the stairwell. Melissa's voice, sharp and biting.
"You think I don't see it? Sitting next to her. Touching her. Do you know how pathetic that looks?"
My heart froze.
I crept closer, my body pressing to the wall. Around the corner, Melissa stood facing Jade. Her arms folded, her voice shaking with anger.
Jade leaned against the railing, looking bored. Almost amused.
"She's nothing," Melissa hissed. "A scarf and a fantasy. You're humiliating yourself. People are laughing at you too, you know."
Jade tilted his head, the lazy smirk I knew too well tugging his lips. "Funny. I don't care."
Melissa's face flushed crimson. "You're seriously choosing her over me?"
His smirk widened. "I ain't choosing anyone and definetely not you. Who said I ever would chose you?"
Her hand flew up, like she wanted to slap him. But she stopped short, her nails curling into her palm. Jade raised his brows, looking straight into Mellisas eyes, dĂ ring her to do what he thinks she will do"You'll regret this, Jade. I swear you will."
She stormed off, heels clacking against the floor.
Jade didn't move. He just stayed there, gaze flicking lazily in my direction- because he knew. He knew I'd heard.
My knees nearly gave out.
After school, I ran. Straight to the bus, scarf tight, lungs desperate for escape. The ride felt endless, the laughter still echoing, the phone screens still glowing in my mind.
When we jolted to a stop near my street, I stumbled off, relief flooding my chest- until a low rumble made me freeze.
A car engine.
I turned.
The red Mercedes rolled slowly to the curb, window lowering just enough for his eyes to meet mine.
My breath vanished.
The bus pulled away, leaving me stranded on the quiet street with him.
The passenger door clicked open.
"Get in," Jade said, voice smooth, commanding.
I shook my head. "I-I can't."
His smirk flickered, darker now. "Then I'll walk you. Your choice."
My pulse thrashed. My feet stayed frozen.
He stepped out, shutting the door behind him, every movement slow, deliberate. When he reached me, he didn't ask again. His hand closed around my wrist, firm, grounding, dangerous.
"You let them get to you again," he murmured, leaning down, his breath brushing the edge of my scarf. "Didn't I tell you? They don't matter."
I tried to pull away. "You don't understand- "
His grip tightened, not hurting, but strong enough to lock me in place. His eyes burned into mine.
"I understand more than you think." His voice dropped, raw, rough. "You don't get to run from me. Not after that kiss. Not after yesterday. You're mine, Ark. Whether they laugh or not."
My chest caved in. Fear and heat tangled until I couldn't breathe.
"I'm not-" I tried, but the words died when he leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching mine.
"You already are," he whispered.
The street spun. My pulse rattled my bones.
And then, just as quickly, he released me, stepping back with that same infuriating smirk, mask sliding back over his face.
"See you tomorrow," he said, slipping into his car.
The engine roared. The red Mercedes glided away, leaving me shaking on the curb, my wrist tingling with the ghost of his grip.
I stumbled toward home, scarf hot against my mouth, his voice ringing louder than every whisper that had haunted me all day.
You're mine.
And this time, there was no escaping the weight of it.