You never planned to fall for anyone. Especially not in high school. You had already planned your whole life at the age of ten: study well, avoid romance, become an architect, and live a calm, simple life with no drama.

So you kept a low-key personality. No makeup, no glitter, no interest in typical school romance. You had your books, your goals, and grades you were proud of.

But fate had its own plans.

One day, a new transfer student arrived—Rhael Elliston. The whole school instantly became obsessed with him. He had an unreal kind of beauty, a perfect body, and an aura that grabbed everyone’s attention.

You told yourself you were NOT one of his fangirls. Well… maybe just a little.

But you never showed it. In fact, you did the opposite. While other girls giggled around him, you kept your head down and walked the other way. Only your red ears betrayed you.

You were sure Rhael didn’t even know you existed. But he did.

One day in the cafeteria, while you were quietly eating lunch, he sat in front of you and spoke as if you were already in a conversation.

“Your grades are good. I’m weak in science. Be my study partner. I’ll help you with math.”

You almost choked on your food. Before you could answer, he got up.

“It’s decided then,” he said and walked away.

The next day, he really showed up beside you in the library. A little too close. Whenever you tried to move your chair away, he pulled it back next to him.

“I can’t concentrate if you’re not close,” he said in that smooth, deep voice that made your heart beat strangely fast.

And just like that, you fell a little harder every day.

He started spending more and more time with you. Sometimes you wondered if he liked you too. But whenever he accepted other girls’ gifts with a smile, you crushed that hope. Rhael was kind to everyone. Maybe you were just another admirer.

Then came the inter-school basketball tournament. Rhael was playing, and you were in the spectator gallery—totally for the team, not for him. At least that’s what you told yourself.

But every time he scored, he looked straight at you. And every time, your heart betrayed you again.

After the match, you gathered your courage, grabbed a water bottle, and walked toward him.

“It’s just a friendly gesture. Nothing else,” you whispered to yourself.

But before you could reach him, another girl rushed forward and handed him a bottle. He smiled and took it.

Jealousy stabbed you—quick and sharp. Your hand tightened so hard that the bottle almost cracked. You turned and walked away fast, throwing it in the bin.

As soon as you turned a corner, someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.

Rhael.

“Leaving so soon, hmm?” he said, his voice low and smooth.

“You didn’t need me there. You already had admirers,” you muttered. You definitely did NOT pout. Probably.

He chuckled softly. “Aww… did I make you jealous? I didn’t mean to.”

You avoided his eyes. He took off his jacket and placed it around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer by the collar.

Then he leaned in and kissed your nose. Your breath caught.

“There,” he whispered. “Is that enough compensation? Or should I try kissing your lips too?”

(Swipe left for his POV)