"You couldn't find the chain!?" Archer's brows jumped so high they practically flew off his face.
"Yeah," I replied, pretending to look unbothered as I slid into my seat for class. "There was no chain in his room."
Lie. Total lie. A big, ugly, messy lie with glitter on top. Big lie.
No way was I about to tell Archer or Penelope that I ran into Chase Everett, aka Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Troublemaker, and that he had basically ambushed me with some cryptic demand and a face that should be illegal in three countries.
Penn let out a soft groan beside me, dragging her hand down her face. "Seriously? But… that was the only hope."
Yeah, babe. The only hope that I just handed over to Avard's golden boy with the number one chain and an ego the size of Jupiter.
I caught Archer looking at me sideways, his jaw tight. Suspicious. He wasn't buying it, not fully.
"Good morning, everyone!" our teacher's sing-song voice cut through the awkward vibes like a knife through a sad birthday cake.
Miss Clara. Bright-eyed, blonde, and wearing a skirt way too cheerful for a place like Avard High. She beamed at us like we were her favorite students on Earth. Joke's on her.
"I'm so excited to be here this beautiful morning," she chirped, practically dancing over to the whiteboard.
Just as she started writing in her pretty loopy letters, the classroom door burst open—bam—like the opening scene of a teen drama. The air shifted. Girls sat up straighter. Someone sprayed perfume. I kid you not.
In walked him.
Chase Everett. And trailing behind him like backup dancers in a boyband: Levi and Jax.
Penn leaned in and whispered, "Those are his guys. Levi's number two. Jax is number four."
I already knew. Everyone knew.
Chase led the trio like he owned the building, striding in with that trademark smirk and this lazy, confident energy that made you want to punch him or kiss him—or both. His ocean-blue eyes locked onto mine for a second, and I swear my lungs just… gave up.
Levi followed, tall and lean, with these sharp cheekbones and messy dark curls that said, I don't try, but still look hot. Jax brought up the rear, looking like he just stepped out of a commercial for overpriced sneakers. Athletic, charming, and flashing a grin that could melt deodorant.
Their colognes hit me next—clean, expensive, and annoyingly addictive. Half the class went silent. The other half swooned.
Miss Clara tried to act unbothered. She failed.
"Why are you three late?" she asked, raising one perfect brow.
"We were held up," Chase said smoothly, like it was the most valid excuse on the planet.
"Held up by what, exactly?" she pressed, crossing her arms.
Jax grinned. "We were calculating the exact angle of our entrance to maximize drama."
The class died. Even Miss Clara laughed, covering her mouth with her hand like a giggling schoolgirl. Chase just smirked. Levi rolled his eyes like this was normal for them.
I rolled my eyes so hard, they almost popped out.
"Aren't they hot though?" Penn whispered, her voice a giddy squeak.
"No," I replied flatly. "They're allergic to humility."
Miss Clara clapped her hands like a kindergarten teacher high on caffeine. "Okay, everyone! Today we're doing a class practical—group work!"
Cue collective groans.
"Relax," she continued brightly. "I've already paired you all up."
Oh no. Oh no-no-no. Please not Chase. Anyone but Chase. Pair me with a chair. A literal chair.
"And Camille… you're with Levi."
I exhaled, genuinely relieved. Thank you, classroom gods.
Levi stood up, walked over, and dropped into the seat beside me with the quiet grace of someone who did not want to chit-chat. His green eyes didn't even flick toward me.
"Hey," I greeted with a small smile.
He gave a short nod. Not a word. Just a nod. Cold. Icy. Arctic.
Okay… cool. We're doing the mysterious stranger thing. Fine by me.
Miss Clara explained the task: "Ask your partner ten things about themselves. Get to know each other. Communicate. Connect!"
I adjusted my seat and tried again. "I'm Camille."
"I think you already know my name," he replied, still not looking at me.
Wow. So it's like that.
But before we could even exchange one awkward fact, guess who strutted over like he owned the place?
Chase Everett. Smug smile. Mischief in his eyes. Trouble dressed in designer.
"Hey, Levi," he said casually. "Mind switching with me?"
What? WHAT!?
To my horror, Levi didn't argue. He just… stood up and walked away like we weren't in the middle of a bonding session.
"What are you doing?" I hissed.
Chase slid into Levi's seat like it was custom-made for his ego. He leaned in close—too close—and smirked. "Hey, Jones."
That name again. Jones. Not even my real surname. But he said it like it was some inside joke only he got.
I stood up and made a beeline to Miss Clara like a woman on a mission.
"Miss Clara, um, hi," I said in a hushed voice. "Chase just took Levi's seat. Isn't that… like… against the rules?"
Miss Clara tilted her head, biting back a smile. "Well, sometimes we have to work with people we don't like, Camille."
I stared at her. Was she being for real?
"But I was actually having a decent convo with Levi," I argued.
"Maybe Chase just wants to get to know you better," she said with a wink.
Oh, we were doomed.
I returned to my seat, Chase waiting there like he was king of this twisted group project.
"Happy now?" I muttered.
"Delighted," he replied, flashing a smile that probably got him out of multiple detentions.
Miss Clara passed out our worksheets, and we dove into the Ten Questions of Doom™.
"Favorite subject?" I asked dryly.
He smirked. "Don't have one."
"Shocker. Hobby?"
He leaned in, eyes trailing down my face—neck—soul. "Getting to know beautiful girls like you."
I blinked. "That's not a hobby."
"It is if you're passionate," he whispered.
Oh god. I was blushing. I was actually blushing. I scribbled furiously on the paper to hide it.
"Biggest fear?" I asked, desperate to switch gears.
His voice dropped. "Losing someone I care about."
Wait—what?
For a second, something flickered in his eyes. Real. Raw. Then it was gone, replaced by that smirk again.
"One thing you can't live without?" I asked softly.
Chase's gaze burned. "Your smile."
I choked. "You don't even know me."
"Then let me," he whispered.
That was it. I was shutting this interview down before he made me fall in love and lose my last brain cell.
Class finally ended. I jumped out of my seat like it was on fire.
"Two more days, Jones," Chase said behind me, rising to his feet.
I spun around. "So?"
He stepped closer, brushing his fingers against mine—warm, slow, teasing. "You really don't want me to play dirty."
"You won't get what you want," I snapped. "Watch me get a chain right in front of your stupid, pretty face."
Chase chuckled. "I'd love to see you try, sweetheart."
He leaned closer, eyes locked on mine. Everyone was watching. I should've moved away. But I couldn't. I froze.
Then he said, voice serious now, "There's something about you... reminds me of someone I used to know."
I swallowed. "Who?"
He stared hard at me like I was a puzzle he almost recognized. "The previous number five owner. Not someone you'd know."
And just like that, he walked away—Levi, Jax, and a red-haired girl trailing behind him.
I stood there, brain glitching.
Previous number five owner?
Wait. Could it be—?