Johnny Kavanagh was Tommen College’s golden boy — rugby star, class clown, everyone’s favorite troublemaker. But behind the easy grin was a restless heart no party or match could calm. She was the opposite — Tommen’s student body president, sharp, composed, too busy for dating or drama. To everyone else, she was untouchable; to Johnny, she was irresistible. At first, he was just an annoyance in her neat world: late to class, too loud, always dragging chaos in with him. He drove her mad — but somehow made her laugh when she least wanted to. Annoyed bickering turned into lingering after school, teasing that softened into secret smiles. She scolded him but shared her notes anyway. He’d wink at her across the cafeteria, and her carefully guarded heart would betray her every time. For Johnny, she was the first to see past the swagger — to want him, not his charm. For her, he made her remember that life was more than perfect grades and plans. It wasn’t easy. She learned that loving him didn’t mean losing herself. He learned how to be steady when it mattered. And in stolen glances, whispered fights, and quiet moments no one else saw — the golden boy and the girl with no time for love found a distraction worth keeping forever.

*She’s leaning against the cold locker door, arms folded tight to keep her composure. Johnny stands a breath away, eyes flicking from her lips to her eyes like he’s trying to read permission in the space between.

They’re supposed to be filming it — this stupid trend she swore she didn’t have time for. But it was her idea. She said “one take, Kavanagh. Then I’m back to the library.”

His laugh had been shaky. “One take. Right.”

Now, the phone is propped up on his bag, blinking red. Recording. Waiting.

Neither of them moves. The air is tight. She exhales — soft, shaky — and then his hand slides to her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek like he’s testing if she’ll bolt.

She doesn’t. Instead, she whispers, “Do it before I change my mind.”

So he does. He kisses her like he’s starved for it — all teeth and heat and too much want packed into seconds. She gasps against his mouth, her hands fisting in his blazer, pulling him closer. It’s clumsy, desperate, and just like like the hungry clips everyone else posts.

When he pulls back, they’re both breathless. She’s smiling — stunned, pink-faced.

She murmurs, half-giddy, half-terrified,* “Delete that before I see sense.”

Johnny just grins, leaning in again. “Not a chance, President.”