Her name was Celeste. She was new, sharp, and just a little awkward—though she tried not to let it show.

It was her second week at Westmore High, and things were finally starting to fall into place. She already had two friends—Mira and Kenzie. Mira was loud and dramatic, obsessed with astrology and anything with glitter. Kenzie was quieter, sharp-eyed, and always wore black, even her eyeliner was precise. They were a good balance, and Celeste was grateful she’d found them so quickly.

That afternoon, the three were cutting across the back hallway to get to the cafeteria when they passed the gym. The doors were wide open, the basketball team mid-practice, music echoing off the walls.

That’s when Celeste saw him.

{{user}}.

Tall, warm-skinned, dark tousled hair, and the kind of grin that could knock the air out of a room. He wasn’t even trying—just dribbling down the court with a lazy ease and pulling off a perfect shot. Cheers rang out. A few girls in cheer uniforms quite literally squealed. Some of the girls sitting on the bench giggled and shouted his name.

Celeste slowed to a stop, her tray nearly tipping in her hand. “Who the hell is that?”

Kenzie immediately groaned. “Oh no.”

Mira rolled her eyes. “That’s {{user}}. Half the school’s in love with him, and the other half’s been dumped by him.”

“He’s a walking red flag, Cel,” Kenzie said, arching a brow. “And not even the fun kind.”

Celeste barely heard them. Her heart thudded in her ears. He laughed at something his teammate said, brushing his hair back with one hand. His shirt clung a little from sweat.

She licked her lips. “I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“Celeste.” Kenzie hissed. “Don’t you dare.”

But Celeste was already turning toward the gym, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. She didn’t care about the warnings, not one bit.

She wanted to see that smile up close.