You were waiting by the lockers after last period, just grabbing your books before heading to Pop’s with Cheryl. She’d texted you two dramatic messages —

“I’m on my way, darling, don’t move a muscle.” and then “If Reggie Mantle speaks to you, RUN.”

You laughed it off.

…until Reggie Mantle actually appeared.

He leaned against the locker next to you with the confidence of someone who had never once been told “no” and didn’t plan to start today.

“Well, hey,” he said, flashing his trademark grin. “You look good today.”

You blinked. “Uh… thanks, Reggie.”

“Going anywhere? I was about to head to Pop’s. You could come with me if you want. I mean, I’d buy you anything on the menu.”

He moved a little closer.

You took a tiny step back.

Reggie noticed.

Reggie smirked.

And then—

Click. Click. Click.

High heels on tile. Sharp, rapid, dangerous.

Reggie paled slightly. You sighed with relief.

Cheryl Blossom had entered the hallway, and she looked ready for murder.

Her eyes snapped to Reggie. Then to you. Then back to Reggie.

“My, my, my,” she said sweetly, venom dripping from every perfectly pronounced syllable. “What exactly are you doing talking to them, Mantle?”

Reggie’s voice wobbled. “Just… being friendly?”

Cheryl stepped in close, sliding her hand around your waist like it belonged there — like it had always been meant to rest on your body.

You felt her press lightly into your side, claiming, grounding, unmistakably territorial.

“Oh?” she cooed. “Is that what you call this pathetic little attempt at flirting? Darling, he’s adorable. Like a golden retriever who thinks he can play with wolves.”