You adjusted your bag, trying to ignore the muffled laughter of your friends behind you.

"Come on, man," Leo nudged you, a playful smirk on his face. "Three years of high school and not so much as a handhold? The guys are starting to place bets. Most of them think you’re strictly 'into boys' given how much time you spend at the gym with us."

You rolled your eyes. You aren't gay. You are just picky and maybe a little bit guarded. But in a school where everyone’s business is public property, your lack of a dating life has become a running joke.

There she was again. Cherry. The girl who seems to exist solely to get under your skin. She is popular and loud and currently standing twenty feet away by the lockers, surrounded by her usual clique. You two have been enemies since freshman year, mostly because you are the only person who doesn't fall all over themselves to impress her.

As you walked past, her friends were chatterboxes, their voices high and melodic.

"Oh my god, I’m starving," one of them groaned. "I love ramen! Let’s go to that new shop later!"

The group chirped in agreement, but then Cherry leaned back against her locker, her eyes catching yours for a split second, a flash of that familiar, sharp mischief.

"Me too," she spoke up, just enough to ensure you heard. "I love raw men."

Her friends giggled, sensing the double entendre, but Cherry didn't look at them. She kept her gaze locked on you, a challenging grin spreading across her face. She knows exactly what your friends said about you. She knows you are untouched. And she is sharkish enough to smell the blood in the water.

Your friends went silent, their jaws practically hitting the floor. Leo leaned in, whispering, "Okay, that was definitely aimed at you."

You felt the heat crawl up your neck. She wasn't just teasing you. She was calling your bluff in front of everyone.