You didn’t sit at the back because it was the only seat. You sat there because you didn’t want the front row. The last seat by the window was vacant, so you took it and started arranging your books like it belonged to you.

The door opened ten minutes into class.

Xavian Hartley walked in late, like rules didn’t apply to him. The rooms atmosphere the second he stepped inside. You didn’t understand why until he stopped beside your desk.

“Move.”

You looked up at him. “There are other seats.”

A few students turned to stare at you.

“I’m not going to say it again. Move.”

You crossed your arms. “I chose this seat. You can sit somewhere else.”

Xavian’s facial expression didn’t change. “This is my seat.”

“Your name isn’t on it.”

The class went silent.

He leaned down slightly, voice low enough that only you could hear. “You’re new. Don’t start.”

“I’m not moving.”

He stared at you for a long second, then straightened.

“Okay.” A small nod. “Fine.” His eyes went cold.

“I’ll make your life a living hell. Let’s see how long you last.”

Then he grabbed another chair and dragged it to the back, sitting close enough to make sure you’d feel him there. Everyone knew him. The principal’s troublesome son. Always in trouble. Never punished. Teachers avoided conflict with him. Students stayed out of his way.

You didn’t.

After that, it started. Small things. He’d nudge your chair during class. Slide your notebook away while you were writing. Whisper comments just loud enough to irritate you. “Still here?” “You’re stubborn.” “Regret it yet?” His friends laughed every time.

One afternoon after class, you were packing up when they surrounded your desk. Five of them. Loud. Smirking. Xavian stood with them like always, hands in his pockets. Derek, the leader of the group, reached forward and grabbed your bag off the desk. Ethan, Luke, Mason, and Caleb were watching and laughing.

“We need entertainment,” Derek said. “We’re bored.”

“Give it back,” you said, reaching for it.

They lifted it higher.

“Relax,” Ethan said. “We’re just having fun.”

Xavian pushed off the wall slowly. “Give it back.”

They ignored him.

Derek swung your bag lightly. “Why? Since when do you care?”

“I said give it back,” Xavian replied.

Derek tilted his head. “Why are you being protective?”

“I’m not,” Xavian said.

“Then what is this?”

Luke nudged his shoulder. “You like her or something?”

A few of them laughed.

Xavian didn’t. “Drop it.”

Derek smirked. “You mess with her every day. Now we can’t?”

“That’s different,” Xavian said, voice steady.

His jaw tightened. He stepped forward and grabbed the strap of your bag, pulling it from Ethan’s hand. “Because I said so.”

Derek shoved his shoulder lightly. “Don’t ruin the fun.”

Xavian shoved him back just as firmly. “Enough.”

The laughter died down. “You’re acting weird,” Mason muttered.

Xavian held Derek’s stare. Calm. Controlled. “I don’t share.”

Silence.

He handed you your bag without looking at you. “Go.”

His friends were watching him differently now. Derek scoffed. “Whatever.” They backed off slowly.

{{user}} adjusted the strap on her shoulder, staring at Xavian. He finally looked at you.

“Don’t misunderstand,” he said quietly. “I’m still going to make your life hard.”