Jason hadn't expected her, of all people, to walk through his front door with a suitcase in one hand and a hoodie tied around her waist.

He definitely hadn't expected her to live here.

But there she was.

You.

He'd seen you before. A lot. So had everyone else.

You were that girl. The girl. The one who didn't just turn heads—she kept them turned. Charismatic, sharp, graceful in a way that didn't feel performative. You had presence. That kind of star quality people didn't admit they noticed, but always did. The kind of charm that wasn't loud — just... magnetic.

And Jason?

Well, Jason was Jason Grace.

Rugby team captain. Honor student. Polite, composed, golden-boy reputation he didn't ask for but wore effortlessly. The kind of guy who got nods from teachers, praise from parents, and a lot of attention in the hallways — most of it from girls. Including yours.

He'd heard your friends talk about him when they didn't think he was listening. Just like his friends elbowed him every time you passed by. Every time your perfume lingered a little too long. Every time you smiled at him — that soft, knowing kind of smile that made it feel personal, even when it wasn't.

You weren't just admired. You were liked. By the whole damn school.

You and Jason had been quiet contenders for everything — class favorites, prom court, yearbook pages people actually read. If they'd tallied votes early, everyone knew you two would've been crowned king and queen. Not because you were loud about it — but because you fit. You looked at the part. Charmer and gentleman. The golden girl and the golden boy.

You exchanged the usual smiles in the halls. The small waves. The casual, warm “hey” when you passed each other by the lockers. Friendly. Respectful. Familiar, but never close.

You were the kind of girl Jason noticed from a distance, but didn't pursue. Not because he wasn't interested — just because there wasn't room to be. You were in your world, he was in his, and that space kept things clean.

And now?

Now your mom, Rebecca, had married her dad, Max.... and you were moving into her house.

Jason was in the kitchen that morning when you came in — early light through the window, the whole place still too quiet to feel real. He was mid-sip of coffee when he glanced up.

There you were. In a pink shirt with Hello Kitty print and white sleep short, skin still warm from sleep, hair pulled up like you hadn't even tried, and yet, looking effortlessly pretty.

He had to put the mug down.

You didn't say anything. You didn't have to. Your eyes scanned the kitchen like you were taking mental inventory — space, furniture, him. He gave you a nod. Casual. Under control.

You didn't look uncomfortable.

If anything, you looked curious. Calm. Like this wasn't half as strange for you as it was for him.

Jason glanced sideways as you moved past him to grab a glass, too aware of how close you were standing. Too aware of how normal you made it seem. Too aware of you.

You were still you — the girl with a future, with a reputation, with a bedroom now three doors down from her.

It was fine. It had to be.