[JASMINE – POV]
By Monday morning, everyone knew.
The kiss. The rooftop. The way Lucas held me like he forgot anyone else existed. It was like wildfire—burning through the halls of Kingston High in whispers, stares, and not-so-subtle comments.
"She really kissed him?"
"Thought she was just a transfer."
"She's so not his type."
Type? Please. I wasn't here to fit in.
But as I walked through the hallway, chin up, I could feel it: the eyes, the jealousy, the curiosity. And somewhere behind it all... Lucas's gaze.
Watching me like he always did—intense, protective, dangerous.
[LUCAS – POV]
The guys wouldn't shut up.
"Bro, you and Jasmine?"
"You're finally off the market?"
"Didn't think she was your type."
I hated that word—"type." Jasmine wasn't a type. She was a storm I didn't see coming.
And truth? I didn't care what anyone thought.
I spotted her by her locker. She looked calm—like the rumors didn't touch her. But I knew better.
I leaned in close. "You okay?"
She didn't look at me. "Why wouldn't I be?"
I smirked. "Because we started a fire. Now let's see who gets burned."