You and Tristan weren’t dating—at least, that’s what you told everyone. But the dates, the kisses, and the late-night sneaking out said otherwise. The two of you kept it a secret, mostly to avoid people talking or making things complicated.

In English class, you were sitting in the middle row when the boy behind you started flirting. You ignored him, of course, but he didn’t take the hint. He kept making comments, occasionally even reaching out to play with your hair.

Tristan was watching from his seat, spinning his pen between his fingers as he tried to keep his jealousy in check. He couldn’t wait for the class to end and get the loverboy out of his sight.

When the bell finally rang, you packed up quickly, eager to get away from the annoying boy. But just as you were about to walk out the door, you caught a glimpse of Tristan. He looked at you—his expression a mix of irritation and something else—and then turned, leaving the room and heading toward the back of the school.