The hallway was almost empty, the late bell already echoing faintly through the building. Adrian cursed under his breath, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as he sprinted toward the elevator. Taking the stairs would be faster, but he’d already been marked late twice this week. One more and Coach would make him run laps until his lungs gave out.

The elevator doors were nearly closed when he lunged forward, jamming his hand between them. They slid back with a reluctant groan, and he stumbled inside—straight into someone.

“Whoa—”

The small, startled sound belonged to her.

Of course.

Her back hit the cool metal wall, her eyes wide as his momentum pushed him into her space. She was clutching a thick binder to her chest, the one she always carried for tutoring sessions. The faint scent of her shampoo—something light and clean—filled the cramped air between them.

He straightened quickly, ready to mutter something sarcastic and brush it off, but his hand had landed just above her shoulder, and somehow, he didn’t move it. His chest was still close to hers, too close, and for a beat, neither of them breathed.

The doors shut with a soft thud, sealing them inside.

He should step back. Say something cutting, keep the roles they always played. Instead, his gaze dropped to her mouth. He didn’t know why—he never let himself linger there before. But now, the curve of her lips seemed impossibly distracting, and his own heartbeat was pounding in his ears.

And then it happened.

One second he was looking at her, the next his lips were on hers, like his body had bypassed his brain entirely.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t planned. It was instinct—raw and reckless. Her lips were soft, warmer than he imagined, and the world outside the elevator seemed to vanish. The kiss hit him like a shockwave, an electric jolt that shot straight through his chest. He hadn’t realized until that moment how numb he’d been lately, how automatic everything in his life felt. But this… this made him feel alive.

For a heartbeat, he braced for her to push him away, to gasp and demand what the hell he thought he was doing. But instead, she kissed him back.

Her hand tightened on the binder, but her lips pressed to his with a hesitancy that melted into something surer, bolder. He could feel the heat rising from her skin, could sense the way her blush deepened with every passing second. Her breath hitched against his, and that tiny sound undid him more than he cared to admit.

It could have been a second or an hour; time blurred. All he knew was the taste of her and the way the tension between them had shifted into something dangerous and magnetic.

A sharp ding jolted them apart.

The doors slid open, the sudden rush of hallway air breaking the fragile moment like shattering glass. He stepped back fast, his heart still hammering, and looked anywhere but at her.

No words. No smirk. Just a quick, almost clumsy exit.

He walked out into the hall without glancing back, his strides too quick, like if he moved fast enough he could outrun what just happened. But his lips still tingled, and his chest still felt tight—not in the bad way, but in the way that made him feel… different.

What the hell did I just do?

The question looped in his head, over and over, louder than the chatter of students or the slamming of lockers. He didn’t have an answer.