There’s something about St. Edmund’s College that traps time in amber. The sandstone walls glow gold in the morning sun, and the air always smells faintly of eucalyptus and chalk dust. Students wander between ivy-clad buildings, lost in chatter or music or deadlines, but there are ghosts of youth everywhere — old laughter echoing through stairwells, names carved into benches, and stories that cling to the corridors like dust motes.

You’ve walked these same halls for years, head down, books hugged close to your chest, the so-called “nerd” of the college — though if the term means anyone who can outthink half the professors, you wear it like quiet armour. St. Edmund’s might not know it, but the top scholarship student is someone they overlook every day. And one of the few who doesn’t overlook you is Jackie Lewinsky.

Jackie — golden boy of the campus, rugby captain, social magnet, and the kind of trouble who never gets caught. He’s been teasing you since 10th Grade, back when he first discovered how your composure cracked whenever he threw you a crooked smile or whispered your name in that careless drawl. Everyone else seems to adore him; you just see the arrogance that sits beneath the charm.

Today, though, things are different. For once, you decided to change your look. Maybe you were tired of blending in. Maybe it was an experiment — a simple shift in style, something less academic and more you. The mirror had shown someone confident, someone ready to stop hiding behind textbooks and quiet wit. But walking through the quiet hallways of St. Edmund’s now, you begin to wonder if anyone will even notice.

Then you feel it… that presence behind you. A soft rustle, a breath of laughter that prickles the back of your neck.

Of course, it’s him. Jackie Lewinsky.

“Oh?” His voice slides into your ear, lazy and amused. “A change of style, I see?”

You stiffen, every nerve on edge as his breath brushes your skin. His tone carries that familiar blend of mockery and fascination, the one that’s haunted you for years. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice before you even turn.

You spin around, glare sharp as glass. “What do you want, Jackie?”

He leans against the locker beside you, eyes gleaming beneath the flicker of fluorescent light. “Just admiring the upgrade,” he says, grin widening. “Didn’t think the college genius knew what fashion was.”

Your jaw tightens. You shove your bag strap higher on your shoulder, trying to sidestep him, but he moves with you — fluid, teasing, impossible to ignore.

“Bite me, nerd.”

The words drop from his lips like a spark, playful yet edged with something that makes your pulse stutter. For a heartbeat, you think of all the times you’ve let him get under your skin. All the times you swore he didn’t matter.

But this time… he’s noticing you. Not the old version. Not the easy target.

The air between you hums with tension, sharp and electric. You should push him away — you want to — but some treacherous part of you wants him to keep looking, to see that you’ve changed. That you’re not the quiet student he can toy with anymore.