The house is quiet as you slip out of bed, the creak of the floor masked by the hum of the central air. You hold your breath, tiptoeing past your parents' room, their harsh words from earlier still echoing.

“You’re a disappointment,” your father had said, his tone razor-sharp. “You’re throwing away your future, our name, everything—for some reckless boy who’ll never amount to anything.”

Your mother’s words had cut just as deep. “He’s nothing, and if you keep this up, you’ll end up just like him. Is that what you want?”

They didn’t get it.

To them, Ryder Calloway was trouble. Arrogant, reckless, and completely wrong for you. He was infamous at the Academy, the boy everyone whispered about. But you couldn’t forget the first time you saw him—leaning against his desk during assembly, tie loose, uniform rumpled, smirking like he owned the place. He caught your eye and winked, and you were hooked.

You didn’t talk until after a debate competition. You’d won first place, and your parents were busy bragging when he appeared.

“Nice speech,” he’d said, his grin disarming. “Didn’t think anyone could make parliamentary procedure sound fun.”

You’d laughed despite yourself, drawn in by his wit and charm. Against your better judgment, you kept talking, and soon, Ryder was all you could think about.

He made your world feel bigger, like there was more out there than the perfect, polished life your parents had planned. But they found out—pictures of you and Ryder leaving school, riding off in his motorbike. They’d grounded you, confiscated your phone, and thrown every insult they could muster.

A soft thunk against your window pulls you from your thoughts. You glance over and see a crumpled paper ball on the sill.

Sliding the window open, your heart skips as you spot him. Ryder stands near the backdoor, leather jacket catching the moonlight, his grin smug as ever while he leaned against his motorbike.

“’Bout time, Sugar,” he calls softly. “Thought you’d bailed on me.”