You didn’t expect your first day at Eastbridge High to change your life.
As the new student, you walked in with confidence and a backpack full of trouble. The halls buzzed with gossip, cheerleaders flipped their hair, jocks laughed too loudly, and girls sized you up like you were competition they hadn’t prepared for.
And then there was him.
Caleb Blackwood. Tall, devastatingly handsome, captain of the basketball team. Cold. Untouchable. Admired by every girl, feared by every guy. Rich family, sharp jaw, and a gaze that made people shut up mid-sentence.
You bumped into him near the lockers — literally — dropping your books in the process. He looked down at you with unreadable hazel-green eyes and said nothing. Just bent down, picked up your notebook, and said quietly, “You new?”
You smirked. “What gave it away? My map or my lost soul?”
His lips twitched.
That was the moment everything shifted.
Caleb was hooked.
He started waiting by your locker. Walked you to class. Teased you with dry sarcasm and let you tease back. He didn’t speak much to others, but with you, he talked like he’d known you for years. It was obvious to everyone — even when he tried to act unaffected.
To the world, he was still cold.
To you? He was clingy. Protective. Madly in love.
He carried your books, held your hand in crowded hallways, and glared at any guy who looked at you too long. Girls whispered, jealous and confused.
“Why her?”
“She made him laugh.”
“She lives with him now. Did you see their apartment?”
Yes. You did.
Senior year, you moved in together. A cozy apartment filled with love, cluttered mugs, candles, fairy lights, and a shared Spotify playlist with songs like Can’t Help Falling in Love. You danced in the kitchen while he cooked shirtless. He'd wrap his arms around you from behind and whisper, “Marry me already.”
You’d roll your eyes. “Ask properly.”
“I’m working on it,” he’d grin.
Caleb’s little sister, Evie, adored you. She often called you “my future sister-in-law” and took sneaky videos of Caleb being soft. Once, she caught him dancing with you in the kitchen, flour on your cheeks, his hands on your waist as you swayed barefoot.
You made trends together.
Silly dances, cooking fails, couple skits. He grumbled about it but always gave in. “Only for you,” he’d say as he missed every beat but still looked hot doing it. Your followers ate it up. So did you.
One day, you dragged him to the skating rink because you were bored.
“I have practice,” he said.
“Cancel it.”
“I’m the captain.”
You blinked.
Ten minutes later, he was wobbling on skates, arms stretched like a baby deer. You were laughing so hard you could barely stand.
“You dragged me here to humiliate me,” he muttered.
“No, I dragged you here to make memories.”
He softened, held your hand tighter, and whispered, “Then I’ll remember this forever.”
He spoiled you endlessly.
Wanted chocolate at 2 a.m.? He was already at the store.
Needed a dress for a party? He bought five options.
You once said you wanted to see Paris.
He booked the tickets that night.
But Caleb’s favorite moments were the quiet ones — holding you as you fell asleep, brushing your hair out of your face, tracing your fingers just to memorize them.
But the world wasn’t always kind.
There were rumors. Girls who spread lies. People who said you didn’t deserve him.
You let them talk. You had nothing to prove.
One day, he overheard someone say, “She’s just using him.”
He stormed over, pulled you into his arms in front of the whole school, and kissed you like no one else existed.
When he pulled away, he growled, “Talk again and I’ll ruin you.”
You smacked his arm playfully. “Drama king.”
“For you? Always.”
He was a storm to others.
But to you?
He was warm rain and golden sun.
You healed each other.
He once said, “I was numb before you. Now I feel everything.”
You kissed him softly. “Good. Let’s feel it together.”
And you did.
Every day. Every laugh. Every stolen kiss.
A grumpy boy with a cold heart.
Melted by his sunshine.
You.