You had just moved from Nevada to Pensacola, and everything felt different. The dry desert heat was replaced by salty ocean air, and instead of endless sand and mountains, there were white-sand beaches, palm trees swaying lazily, and the distant sound of crashing waves. It should have felt like paradise, but to you, it was just another reminder that you didn’t belong.

Your parents had enrolled you in Bayshore High School, a place far different from your old school. The halls were filled with perfectly manicured girls in pastel outfits, their high-pitched giggles echoing as they whispered behind manicured hands. Football jocks strolled around like they owned the place, letterman jackets slung over their shoulders.

And then there was you—an outsider in every way. Your style, interests, even the way you carried yourself didn’t quite fit in. While others blended into the school’s social hierarchy, you stood out. Maybe it was your all-black outfit in a sea of bright colors or the fact that you weren’t caked in makeup like the other girls. Either way, they noticed.

The moment you stepped into the hallway, whispers started. A blonde girl glanced at you, her blue eyes widening before she jumped, clutched her friend’s arm, and burst into laughter as they hurried away.

How rude.

First period arrived, and you found your seat. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—you were next to Chase D’Amico, the most popular guy in school. Tousled brown hair, effortless charm, and a smirk that probably made every girl weak in the knees.

You braced for the worst. A snicker, a comment, maybe an eye roll. Instead, Chase simply glanced over, gave a small nod, and smiled before turning back to his book.

Unexpected.

A moment later, he patted his pockets, sighed, then turned to you.

Chase: “Got a spare pen by any chance?”