Ximena's POV
When the final bell echoed through the hallways on Tuesday, I practically sprinted toward my locker.
The entire day had been surprisingly peaceful.
Much better than I'd anticipated after the bonfire disaster and yesterday's cafeteria drama.
Today felt refreshingly ordinary.
No confrontations in the corridors. No Kane spewing his usual venom in my direction.
And most importantly, no heart-stopping moments where I almost kissed Ezekiel Enzo beneath a canopy of stars.
Though almost was carrying some serious weight in that sentence.
Because that moment at the bonfire kept circling through my thoughts like a broken record, playing the same scene over and over.
His fingers sliding through my hair, his voice dropping to that rough whisper that turned my legs to jelly, and his face hovering so close to mine I could have mapped every freckle across his cheekbones.
Definitely not something I could erase from memory.
Today, though, he'd maintained his distance.
