Westridge Academy – Afternoon
Sophia Carter's emotions were a tangled mess.
Standing in the hallway, she faced Lucas Grant—the boy who had once been her entire world. Now, looking at his perfectly sculpted features, she felt nothing but a dull, distant ache.
"Are you mad?" Lucas asked, tilting his head.
Sophia exhaled. "No. Not at all."
Her voice was flat, detached.
"Just leave. And don't come back. It's embarrassing."
For herself. For the girl she used to be.
The girl who had wasted years chasing a boy who saw her as nothing more than a punchline.
The Past Revisited
Lucas misinterpreted her silence.
His lips curled into that practiced, charming smile—the one that had once made her heart race.
"About last weekend—I wanted to send you home, but you disappeared after the party."
Sophia blinked.
Party?
Oh. Right.
His birthday.
The cake she'd painstakingly ordered—only for it to arrive smashed, ridiculed, smeared across someone's face as a joke.
"Did you… make it yourself?" Lucas asked softly.
Sophia almost laughed.
"Bought it."
Even at her most infatuated, she'd never been that pathetic.
Lucas's expression faltered.
He wasn't used to this version of her—cool, indifferent, utterly uninterested in his approval.
"If you're avoiding me because of what they said—"
"I'm not." Sophia cut him off. "I just like my current class. And my new seatmate."
Lucas's hand, halfway to brushing her hair, froze midair.
"Your… seatmate?"
Sophia didn't elaborate.
She turned back to her locker, methodically emptying it of every trace of him—photos, notes, even the scarf she'd once knitted in secret.
All of it went into the trash bag at her feet.
Lucas watched, disbelief etching into his features.
"You're throwing it all away?"
Sophia didn't look up.
"Should've done it sooner."
The Shadow in the Hall
Unseen, Alexander Sterling leaned against the corridor's corner, a mop in hand.
He'd heard everything.
The birthday wishes. The promises. The way Lucas's voice had dipped when he mentioned Sophia's "current seatmate."
Alexander's grip tightened on the mop handle.
He shouldn't care.
Sophia was the kind of girl who bled kindness—offering her seat to strangers, bandaging wounds she didn't cause, stuffing candy into the hands of those who didn't deserve it.
Of course she had a past.
Of course there'd been someone before.
Yet the thought coiled in his gut like a sickness.
The Locker Exchange
Sophia jumped when Alexander materialized beside her.
"You can't leave that here," he said, nodding to her trash bag.
"I'm cleaning it now," she muttered, hastily shoving the last items in.
Alexander didn't move.
His gaze flicked to the photos peeking from the bag—Lucas at a piano, Lucas laughing, Lucas bathed in golden light like some goddamn saint.
Sophia followed his line of sight and flushed.
"Old stuff. Doesn't matter anymore."
She hesitated, then reached into the emptied locker and pulled out a small padlock.
"Do you… want this?"
Alexander stared at the offered lock.
"Why?"
"I took an extra locker during orientation. You can have it."
Her voice was soft, tentative.
Like she was afraid of him.
Like she was offering more than just a locker.
Alexander took the lock.
Their fingers brushed.
Sophia's were warm.
The Unspoken Rule
Back in class, Sophia buried herself in notes, determined to ignore the weight of Alexander's presence beside her.
He was impossible to read.
One moment cold, the next… not.
She'd seen the way he'd looked at those photos.
The way his jaw had tightened when Lucas's name came up.
"Didn't you always want to sit with me?"
Lucas Grant's voice softened, his lips curving into that practiced, charming smile. "The seat next to me is still empty. If you want to come back, I can arrange it."
"The wish you made on your birthday last year—it can come true now."
There would never be another girl as foolish as she had been.
Sophia Carter's birthday was in April, just a week after the sports festival.
That year, the entire freshman class had gone on a field trip to a famous scenic area in the neighboring city—a mountain dotted with pagodas and ancient pine trees, crowned by a temple said to grant wishes.
After climbing thousands of steps, most of the class had collapsed at the viewing platform, too exhausted to trek the final half-hour to the summit.
When the teacher suggested visiting the temple, only a handful of students had raised their hands.
Lucas hadn't paid attention to who went.
Not until roll call, when he saw Sophia stumbling back down the trail—face flushed, ponytail unraveled, sweat-damp strands clinging to her neck.
A girl who could barely finish the 800-meter run in PE, yet had somehow found the strength to climb to the top.
Before he could wonder why, a boy ahead of him mimicked a high-pitched, girlish voice:
"Seventeen years old—please let me sit next to Lucas Grant!"
The laughter that followed was deafening.
It had been Sophia's birthday. Rumor had it wishes made that day were especially potent. She'd bought a red silk ribbon, tied it to the lowest branch she could reach—only for the boys to photograph it, mock it, reduce it to a joke.
When the teacher called her name, Sophia had wiped her eyes hastily, lifting her chin to meet Lucas's gaze with a watery smile.
And for one fleeting, inexplicable moment—
His heart had skipped a beat.
The Present
Now, golden afternoon light spilled through the hallway windows, gilding Sophia's hair as she stood by the lockers.
Lucas reached out, fingers brushing toward those silken strands—
Sophia sidestepped.
"I like my current seatmate just fine."
Lucas's hand hung in the air, his expression darkening.
"That wish was half a year ago. I'd forgotten until you mentioned it."
Her voice was calm, steady.
"If you came here to apologize, consider it accepted. Now please leave."
Lucas's jaw tightened. "You're calling me rude?"
Sophia didn't flinch. "Yes."
She turned back to her locker, emptying it with brisk efficiency—photos, notes, even the scarf she'd knitted for him in secret.
All of it went into the trash bag at her feet.
Lucas watched, disbelief etching into his features.
"You're throwing it all away?"
Sophia didn't look up.
"Should've done it sooner."
The Shadow in the Hall
Unseen, Alexander Sterling leaned against the corridor's corner, a mop in hand.
He'd heard everything.
The birthday wishes. The promises. The way Lucas's voice had dipped when he mentioned Sophia's "current seatmate."
Alexander's grip tightened on the mop handle.
He shouldn't care.
Sophia was the kind of girl who bled kindness—offering her seat to strangers, bandaging wounds she didn't cause, stuffing candy into the hands of those who didn't deserve it.
Of course she had a past.
Of course there'd been someone before.
Yet the thought coiled in his gut like a sickness.
The Locker Exchange
Sophia jumped when Alexander materialized beside her.
"You can't leave that here," he said, nodding to her trash bag.
"I'm cleaning it now," she muttered, hastily shoving the last items in.
Alexander didn't move.
His gaze flicked to the photos peeking from the bag—Lucas at a piano, Lucas laughing, Lucas bathed in golden light like some goddamn saint.
Sophia followed his line of sight and flushed.
"Old stuff. Doesn't matter anymore."
She hesitated, then reached into the emptied locker and pulled out a small padlock.
"Do you… want this?"
Alexander stared at the offered lock.
"Why?"
"I took an extra locker during orientation. You can have it."
Her voice was soft, tentative.
Like she was afraid of him.
Like she was offering more than just a locker.
Alexander took the lock.
Their fingers brushed.
Sophia's were warm.
The Unspoken Rule
Back in class, Sophia buried herself in notes, determined to ignore the weight of Alexander's presence beside her.
He was impossible to read.
One moment cold, the next… not.
She'd seen the way he'd looked at those photos.
The way his jaw had tightened when Lucas's name came up.
Was he jealous?
The thought was absurd.
Alexander didn't do jealousy.
He didn't do anything that required caring.
Yet when she risked a glance his way, she found him already watching her—those pale eyes unreadable as ever.
Sophia quickly looked down.
Her heart hammered.
This was dangerous.
She'd promised herself she wouldn't fall into old patterns.
Wouldn't let anyone have that kind of power over her again.
But Alexander Sterling wasn't Lucas Grant.
And that, somehow, made him infinitely more terrifying.