St. Dismas Academy – Three Weeks Before Winter Ball
Kai Rivers didn't like games.
He just happened to be very good at them.
He leaned back in his chair at the far corner of the library, a pen twirling between his fingers, watching the social dance unfolding between stacks of ancient books. The elite always thought they were subtle. Ezra Hoshino leaning over a girl's shoulder to "check her notes." Dominic Cole three steps behind, jaw tense. The rich flirting like war generals—smiles as knives, touches as landmines.
Kai didn't belong here.
Not because he was poor—he wasn't.
But because he didn't pretend.
A shadow moved beside him. He didn't look.
Yuna Belle dropped into the seat across from him with the subtle grace of someone who'd grown up too fast. Her silver braids were piled into a bun, her blazer unbuttoned in rebellion, and her arms crossed like a shield.
"You're watching him again," she said without preamble.
Kai clicked his pen. "Watching who?"
She rolled her eyes. "Ezra. Mr. I-Walk-in-Slow-Motion. You've got stalker energy, Kai."
Kai smirked lazily. "I'm not watching. I'm studying."
"Same thing, creep."
He ignored her and leaned forward, voice a whisper. "He's dangerous."
Yuna blinked. "Ezra? That guy? He probably cries when puppies die."
Kai's smile twisted. "Exactly. Too perfect. Too polished. Like he's been trained to be adored. People like that snap eventually."
Yuna leaned closer. "And you want to be there when he does."
"I want to be the one who makes him snap."
She stared at him for a long moment. "That's sick."
Kai shrugged. "I've done worse."
By lunchtime, the school buzzed with rumors.
Someone had dumped Dominic Cole's fencing uniform in the koi pond. Someone else tagged the dean's car with "Daddy's Money Can't Buy Class."
Ezra was smiling at the drama, surrounded by friends, laughing like his world was untouched.
Kai slid into a chair across the dining hall, opened his sketchbook, and began to write.
THE DARE LIST
Make Ezra follow
Make Ezra lose control
Make Ezra fall
Dare him to love
Dare him to leave
Dare him to die
He stared at the last line. Scratched it out. Wrote it again.
Yuna plopped a milk carton beside his tray. "Seriously, what's your endgame?"
He didn't answer.
That night, Kai slipped a second note into Ezra's locker.
"I dare you to skip class tomorrow. Roof. 11:11."
Ezra had never skipped class.
He didn't even know if the school had a roof. But when the time came, his legs moved before his brain did.
He pushed open the hatch with shaky fingers. Cold air hit him like a slap.
Kai was already there. Sitting on the ledge. Wind blowing his shirt tight against his ribs.
Ezra cleared his throat. "You're obsessed with heights or death?"
Kai didn't turn. "Same thing."
Ezra stepped closer. "Why me?"
Kai finally turned. "You're the only one here pretending not to be broken."
The words hit harder than they should have. Ezra stared at him.
Kai tossed a flask across the gap. "Drink."
Ezra caught it. "You always drink on rooftops with enemies?"
"I only drink with people who might matter."
Ezra took a swig. It burned.
"Are you trying to ruin me?" he asked quietly.
Kai's smile was faint, almost gentle. "Not yet."
From behind a rooftop chimney, someone watched.
Jun Kato, resident art freak, sketched silently.
Two boys. One flame.
He grinned to himself. Finally, something worth painting.
Meanwhile…
Dominic Cole threw his fencing mask across the empty gym. The clang echoed. His jaw clenched as he dialed a number.
"Lena," he muttered when the psychology teacher picked up. "We've got a problem. That new guy—he's not just weird. He's dangerous."
On the other end, Ms. Lena Cross tapped her pen. "You mean Kai Rivers?"
"He's messing with Ezra."
There was silence.
"Let him," she said. "Maybe Ezra needs to be shaken up."
Back on the rooftop, Ezra's phone buzzed.
New Message: Unknown Number
"I dare you to kiss me again."
Ezra looked up.
Kai wasn't smiling.
He didn't ask permission.
Ezra stepped forward. Closed the space.
Their mouths met in silence—cold wind and warm skin, the taste of danger and desire mixing on their tongues. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't kind.
It was a promise.
And a warning.
Somewhere in the dark, the Dare List grew longer.
And someone else had a copy.