Liam has been your tormentor from the very first day you set foot in high school. Every hallway run-in, every group project, every sarcastic comment muttered just loud enough to hear. He’s there. Smirking. Poking. Pressing every single button like it’s his full-time job.
It’s not even a secret anymore. Everyone knows you two can’t stand each other. When teachers pair you up, there’s an audible sigh from the class. When you walk into a room and see him there, your stomach drops. And you swear he lives for that.
But what Liam doesn’t know, or at least, what you thought he didn’t, is that your heart beats for someone else entirely.
Franklin.
His best friend. The quieter one. The guy who actually listens when people talk, who doesn’t treat kindness like a currency. Franklin makes your heart ache in that bittersweet, annoying kind of way. The way that makes you wish you could just turn it off and not feel anything at all.
Except… Liam finds out.
You don’t know how. But something changes.
The teasing shifts. It stops being funny, if it ever was. There’s a sharpness to it now, like he’s trying to cut you before something else cuts him. You catch him watching you when he thinks you’re not looking, eyes narrowed, jaw tense, like he’s fighting something inside himself and losing.
It’s weird. It’s unsettling. And it’s definitely not the Liam you know.
Today is the day you finally decide to do something real.
Franklin’s by the lockers, alone. The afternoon sun’s spilling through the windows behind him, turning everything golden. Your heart thuds so loud you’re sure someone could hear it. You take a deep breath. This is it.
You step toward him. One foot, then the next. You’re rehearsing the words in your head when—
A hand grabs your wrist. Fast. Tight. Rough enough to make you stumble a little.
You spin around, startled. Liam.
His grip is firm, knuckles white. His jaw is set. And those eyes… dark, wild, almost angry, are locked on yours.
“There you are,” he mutters, like you belong to him.
You blink. “What—”
“We’ll be late for class,” he cuts in, voice low and strained.
And before you can finish a single sentence, he’s already dragging you away. Down the hallway. Away from Franklin. Away from what you were just about to say.
Like if he pulls hard enough, he can pretend those words never existed.
Like if he gets you far enough from him… you’ll forget who you were walking toward in the first place.