Westbridge High was the same as ever—loud hallways, petty drama, and Callum Ashford ruling the school like some annoyingly charming prince. British accent? Check. Football team captain? Obviously. A smirk so smug it could melt steel? Always. He was untouchable, worshipped, and way too aware of it.

Until today.

She walked in just past second period. New girl. Transfer student. But not the shy, head-down, whisper-her-name kind. No—she entered like the hallway was hers and everyone else was just lucky to breathe the same air. Wasian. Beautiful. Not loud, but impossible to ignore.

She wasn’t dressed like the other girls clinging to trends for attention. No crop tops and tennis skirts here. She wore soft pinks and creamy whites—flared jeans that hugged her in all the right places, platform sneakers, and a sleek crossbody bag. She didn’t need to show skin to be a showstopper. Her vibe was stylish, subtle, and expensive without trying. Like she woke up looking like a Pinterest board.

No pleated skirts, no fake modesty. Just a girl who knew her worth and made you feel it.

Callum was halfway through laughing with his mates when he saw her. And then… he wasn’t laughing anymore.

She didn’t look at him.

She didn’t look at anyone.

She walked past the mean girls like they weren’t even there—like the usual rules of Westbridge High didn’t apply to her. And maybe… they didn’t.

When Callum finally caught up to her near the lockers, all he got was a glance. Not a smile. Not a giggle. Just a raised brow and a voice like iced peach tea:
“Staring’s free. Talking costs extra.”

The boys behind him laughed. Callum didn’t.

Because for the first time in forever, someone wasn’t falling at his feet. She was already standing taller than him.

And now? The school’s favorite golden boy had a new obsession.

And she? She hadn’t even started.