[Original book is on wattpad where audio is also included. Please leave comments and vote!]
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Sunny Grove's annual fundraiser wasn't just a tradition—it was a fever dream dressed up in nostalgia and strung together with duct tape and fairy lights. It was a love letter to small-town stubbornness, where everything felt one spark away from total combustion and no one had the good sense to care. The square throbbed with life—kids in crooked face paint, moms in sun hats armed with folding chairs, and a local salsa band that sounded like they'd just discovered rhythm and were still suspicious of it.
Booths lined the walkways, sagging under striped awnings that flapped like tired flags. A mural—once hopeful—bore the chaotic brushstrokes of graffiti hearts, initials, and that one kid who insisted on tagging "Swag Demon 4Ever" every year. Gossip whipped through the crowd faster than the cotton candy machines could spin, and the air reeked gloriously of fried dough, bubblegum lip gloss, and fresh-cut grass warmed by the sun. For two bucks at the gate, you got a front-row seat to both chaos and charm. By night's end, you'd be broke, blistered, and blissed out—exactly as the founders of the event had intended in their original napkin manifesto.
Jayden stood at the fringe of it all, looking like someone who'd been tricked into nostalgia at gunpoint. His worn denim jacket—plastered with pins from bands that broke up before anyone else in town hit puberty—hung off his frame like armor. His hair, dark and curly, caught the twilight in a way that made him look almost ethereal if you didn't know he was actively scowling. He scanned the setup like he was planning a heist, or at the very least a tactical retreat.
His foot scuffed against the pavement, cracking through a chalk heart that someone had scribbled beside a hopscotch grid. This wasn't his scene. Hell, it hadn't been his town for years. But Sunny Grove had a gravitational pull—it could drag you back by your hoodie strings and remind you that you used to care, even if only a little.
A laugh sliced through the din—too loud, too bright, too Amir.
Jayden didn't have to look to know who it was. Amir always arrived like a supernova—gold chain swinging, tattoos inked in stories he refused to explain, and powdered sugar clinging to his fingers like he'd wrestled a funnel cake and lost with flair. He slapped a half-eaten churro against Jayden's shoulder.
"Brooding already? We haven't even hit hour one."
Jayden rolled his eyes, but it was futile. Amir was the human version of a pop song you didn't want to like but already knew all the lyrics to. "This fundraiser looks like Pinterest threw up."
"And yet you showed," Amir said, grinning wide enough to rival the moon. "Which means deep down, you're still that kid who lost his shoe in the pie-eating contest."
Jayden flinched. "That shoe was vintage."
"That pie was traumatic," Amir replied, gesturing at the chaos with his churro like a conductor cueing an overture. "C'mon, it's not that bad. There's charm in chaos if you squint."
"That's the spirit," Jayden deadpanned. "Let's squint until the trauma looks cute."
They made their way through the crowd like mismatched planets orbiting the same weird sun. Fairy lights flickered above them, casting warped shadows that danced across the cracked pavement. Booths shouted at them—ball tosses, popcorn pyramids, "Guess the Kiss" raffles—all jostling for their attention like desperate open mic performers. The salsa band let loose a trumpet wail that startled a toddler into spilling their lemonade all over a raffle booth.
And there stood Leeorin.
Clipboard clutched to his chest like a lifeline, navy polo ironed to near-unholy perfection, jaw tight enough to crack a walnut. He was orchestrating chaos with a maestro's fury and the kind of cold focus that only came from doing this three years too many.
"You're late," he said without looking up. "Seventeen minutes and forty-two seconds. You were scheduled for setup."
Jayden blinked. "Didn't realize I signed up for boot camp."
"You didn't," Leeorin replied flatly. "But Amir did. And you're his plus-one in bad decisions."
Amir saluted. "Guilty."
Leeorin's gaze softened slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching like they wanted to smile but were under strict instructions not to. "Booth duty starts in an hour. Until then, don't get arrested, maimed, or make the news."
"Can't promise any of that," Jayden muttered, brushing past him.
Leeorin's eyes lingered. There was something unreadable in them—concern, maybe, or the very specific kind of stress that came from having to supervise people who thought glitter cannons were subtle.
They ducked deeper into the fair, where reality slipped a little and the absurd reigned supreme. A woman in a feather boa chased a runaway balloon. Someone's grandma danced like Beyoncé in orthopedic shoes. A rogue high schooler in a hot dog suit heckled the trivia booth with suspicious accuracy.
Amir, naturally, thrived. He made small talk with churro vendors like they were royalty, flirted with someone in a booth selling scented candles named things like "Rainy Regret" and "Hometown Crush," and waved at toddlers like he was campaigning.
Jayden trailed, resisting every urge to admit he wasn't having the worst time.
"Alright," Amir said suddenly, halting in front of the glitter-soaked photo booth. "It's time."
Jayden raised an eyebrow. "Time for what? Glitter tetanus?"
"Tradition," Amir said solemnly. "Sophomore year. You, me, a photo strip, and one very haunted wig."
"I burned that strip," Jayden said.
"I kept the negative," Amir replied, dragging him inside.
They crammed into the cramped booth, knees bumping, the curtain barely shielding them from the noise outside. Amir tossed a pink feather boa over Jayden's shoulders. Jayden batted it off, only to have a glittery cowboy hat plopped on his head seconds later.
"Smile like you're not plotting my death," Amir ordered as the countdown began.
Jayden glared for the first frame. By the third, Amir whispered a ridiculous joke about their chemistry teacher and a box of frogs. Jayden cracked, his laughter exploding like a burst firework. The last frame caught them mid-cackle, leaning into each other, their energy undeniable.
The strip printed. Amir reached for it, but Jayden snatched it first, folding it and shoving it deep into his pocket beside his battered notebook. He tried not to smile.
"You're welcome," Amir said smugly, leading the way out.
They passed the raffle board, where a new addition stood out—The Mystery Kisser Booth. The chalkboard read: One kiss. No names. Two dollars. No regrets.
Jayden stared at it too long. Something in his chest flickered.
Before he could say anything, he collided—hard—into someone. A stuffed dolphin went flying.
"Nice form," the someone said, picking up the prize with infuriating elegance.
Jayden looked up, heart jolting. Lucas.
Black bomber jacket, silver ring, hair just so, and a smirk that had been legally classified as hazardous in three states. He regarded Jayden like he'd been expecting this exact moment.
"You planning to knock me over, or just stun me with your charm?"
Jayden scowled. "Your ego hasn't changed."
Lucas stepped closer, offering the dolphin. "Neither has your aim. Think you can win something better? Ring toss. Let's go."
The challenge sparked something reckless in Jayden. They squared up at the booth. Lucas leaned back, cotton candy in hand, watching with lazy amusement as Jayden missed spectacularly. On the third try, Jayden landed a ring.
A keychain prize.
Lucas took it, their fingers brushing—a spark that made Jayden's stomach lurch.
"Impressive," Lucas said, tucking the keychain into his pocket. "For a scam."
He walked off, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "Salsa band's starting. You coming?"
Before Jayden could answer, Amir returned, all powdered sugar and chaos. "Booth time. Let's go, Romeo."
Jayden blushed so fast it stunned him. "We weren't flirting."
Amir snorted. "You keep saying that."
As they reached the booth, Leeorin threw up his hands. "You're late. Again."
Jayden grinned, still rattled. "You missed the photo booth miracle. Truly historic."
Leeorin gave him a look. "No miracles. Just damage control. Get behind the curtain before we get sued."
Jayden ducked inside. And then—there he was again.
Lucas.
Ticket in hand. Smirk dialed to lethal.
"Didn't peg you for a romantic," Jayden said, voice shaking slightly.
Lucas shrugged. "Didn't peg you for a coward."
Jayden froze. The curtain swayed behind them. The space shrank.
Lucas stepped closer.
"It's just a kiss," he said. "Unless you're scared."
Jayden bristled. "Please. You wish."
Then—Lucas kissed him.
Quick. Warm. Real.
Jayden didn't breathe for a second. Then Lucas was gone, like a magician disappearing through the curtain, the scent of sugar lingering.
Jayden stood there, stunned, lips tingling, heart off-beat.
Outside, the fair pulsed on. Amir waved, shouting something incoherent about churros. Leeorin juggled tickets and lemonade like a caffeinated juggler. The salsa band roared.
And across the square, Lucas watched.
Smirking.
Holding a keychain that wasn't his.