Sam's POV
The next morning, the air at St. Mary's High felt heavier than usual—thick with whispers, laughter that wasn't really laughter, and eyes that refused to look away.
I walked down the hall, head lowered, clutching the strap of my bag like it was armor. My footsteps echoed against the polished tiles, blending with the constant hum of gossip.
"Is that her?" someone whispered behind me. "Yeah, that's the new girl… the one who punched Liam Fernandez."
Perfect. I was officially the school's newest headline.
Every step felt like walking through fog—visible but distant. I told myself to ignore them, to focus on finding my locker, but the sting of their stares was impossible to escape.
When I reached my locker, I paused. A small piece of silver paper was peeking through the vent.
A note.
I frowned and tugged it out. The handwriting was sharp and rushed, like whoever wrote it didn't have much time.
It wasn't your fault.
My breath hitched.
Those same words. The exact ones I'd heard last night, whispered faintly in the dark.
No one else could've known that. No one.
My chest tightened. My mind buzzed with questions. Who left this? Why? Was someone listening to me… or worse, knew me?
I scanned the hallway, but no one was looking. Everyone was too busy whispering, laughing, pointing.
I folded the note and slipped it into my pocket. My fingers were trembling.
Before I could even take a breath, a voice drawled behind me, smooth and teasing.
"Morning, troublemaker."
I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Liam Fernandez.
He leaned lazily against the locker next to mine, one eyebrow raised and a smirk playing on his lips. His uniform looked carelessly perfect—tie loose, sleeves rolled up, dark hair messy in a way that had to be intentional.
"Wow," he said, "you've really outdone yourself. You're famous now. The entire school's talking about you."
I glared at him. "And you're enjoying every second of it, aren't you?"
"Maybe," he admitted, his grin widening. "Can you blame me? Not every day someone dares to punch me."
"You insulted my parents," I shot back.
Something flickered in his eyes for a second—guilt, maybe—but he masked it quickly.
"Still," he said, voice lower now, "you didn't have to hit me like that."
I crossed my arms. "You deserved worse."
Liam chuckled, shaking his head. "You've got a temper, Sam. I'll give you that."
Before I could fire back, a voice sharper than glass sliced through the air.
"Well, well. Isn't this cozy?"
I turned. A girl with sleek dark hair, perfect eyeliner, and an expensive perfume was standing there, arms crossed and smile venom-sweet.
Siya Monroe.
The kind of girl who ruled the school without needing to say it.
She flicked her hair back and eyed me up and down. "The new girl who threw a punch, huh? Cute." Her voice dripped sarcasm. "Guess you wanted attention. Congrats—you've got all of it."
I didn't respond. I didn't need to.
"Careful who you hang out with, Liam," she added, her gaze shifting to him. "Wouldn't want your reputation getting dirty."
Liam's jaw tightened. "Siya, don't start."
"Oh, relax. I'm just trying to help," she said sweetly, though her eyes said something else entirely. "Besides, people are already saying you've gone soft."
Her smirk widened before she turned to leave, her perfume lingering long after she was gone.
I exhaled slowly. "She's… charming."
Liam huffed a quiet laugh. "That's one word for it."
For a brief moment, our eyes met.
And everything else—voices, laughter, whispers—faded. His gaze was steady, unreadable. Something flickered there that I couldn't name, something that made my pulse skip.
Then the bell rang, sharp and sudden, and the moment shattered.
Liam's POV
I didn't know why I went up to her.
Maybe I wanted to see the look on her face. Maybe I wanted to make sure she was okay. Or maybe, deep down, I was still replaying yesterday in my head—the anger in her eyes, the fire that caught me off guard.
Sam.
She wasn't like anyone else in this place.
She didn't care who I was. Didn't flinch when I spoke. She'd actually hit me—no hesitation, no fear.
And now? She was the center of every conversation.
The thing was, I didn't want to laugh at her. Not really. What I wanted… I couldn't even say it.
I'd caught her pulling a note out of her locker earlier. The look on her face—it wasn't confusion. It was something deeper. Fear.
What was that about?
But I didn't ask. I never did. Asking meant caring, and I wasn't supposed to care.
At least, that's what I kept telling myself.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and tried to ignore the stares as I walked to class. Siya had already made sure the whole school knew. She loved attention almost as much as she loved reminding everyone we were "close."
She wasn't a bad person. Just… entitled. Possessive. And completely wrong for me.
Not that I was looking for anyone.
I sighed, glancing toward the far end of the hallway where Sam was heading to her class. She moved differently from the others—quiet, focused, like she wanted to disappear but couldn't.
And somehow, that made her stand out even more.
I shook my head. I needed to stop thinking about her.
But as the day dragged on, every time I looked up, she was there—across the hall, in the corner of my eye, sitting by the window with that faraway look again.
And for reasons I couldn't explain… I didn't want to look away.
Author's POV
By lunchtime, the entire school had turned into a rumor factory. Some said Sam had broken Liam's nose. Others swore she'd confessed her love right after the fight.
The truth didn't matter. The story had grown wings.
Sam sat alone near the back of the cafeteria, her notebook open but untouched. Across the room, Liam tried to ignore Siya Monroe's constant chatter and fake laughter, though his eyes kept drifting—always back to the same quiet corner.
And near the far table, a girl with chestnut curls watched them both with mild curiosity. Zoe, though she didn't know it yet, was about to step into their story too.
Somewhere, between whispers and glances, something unspoken began to form—delicate, dangerous, and impossible to stop.