You slam your books down onto your desk with a loud thud that seems to echo across the room. Heads turn immediately, but you ignore them, your jaw clenching so tight it aches. Your heart’s still pounding from what happened just minutes ago in the hallway.

Mason Thames sits across the aisle from you, lounging in his chair like he owns the place. His grey eyes flick lazily over to you, taking in your flustered state with that infuriatingly calm smirk tugging at his lips. His messy brown hair falls slightly over his forehead as he twirls his pencil between his fingers.

“What’s your problem today?” you snap, unable to keep the venom from your tone. You keep your voice low, but a few people close by still glance over curiously.

Mason raises a brow, feigning innocence. “Me?” He scoffs softly, his smirk widening just a touch. “I’m not the one giggling at Jason’s locker like a little lovesick puppy.”

For a moment, you’re so shocked your mind blanks completely. You just stare at him, blinking rapidly. “What the hell are you talking about?” you finally whisper harshly, your voice trembling with rage. “I was literally asking him about the chemistry homework. Due tomorrow? Or do you not care since you think you’re too smart for assignments?”

His jaw clenches, the muscle ticking as his eyes darken ever so slightly. The lazy, teasing expression fades for a second, revealing something sharper, something almost possessive lurking beneath.

“He doesn’t need to stand that close to you to talk about homework,” he mutters, his voice low and edged with something you can’t quite place.

A flicker of confusion sparks within your anger. Why does he care who you talk to? But your pride burns hotter.

“Why do you even care, Mason?” you hiss, leaning forward so only he can hear your next words. “You’re not my boyfriend. Stay out of my business.”

The air around you crackles with tension. For a moment, neither of you move. Then you notice how the room has gone silent. Students are blatantly staring now, phones held just low enough to record without being obvious. Heat rises to your cheeks, your chest tightening in panic and anger.

Mason’s eyes flicker over the crowd, then back to you. His smirk disappears completely, replaced by something unreadable – a flicker of regret, determination, and frustration all at once. His chair slams forward as he stands abruptly. Before you can even flinch away, his large hands cup your cheeks firmly, and he crashes his lips onto yours in a kiss so sudden and hard it knocks the breath from your lungs. Time freezes. All you feel is the warmth of his hands holding your face, the soft pressure of his lips against yours, and the faint scent of his cedarwood cologne wrapping around your senses like smoke and snowy, winter air. Your eyes flutter shut instinctively as your heart thunders violently against your ribcage. The gasps echoing around the classroom fade into white noise.

He pulls back slowly, his breath ragged as his forehead rests lightly against yours. You open your eyes to find him staring into them, his grey irises swirling with conflicting emotions that make your chest tighten painfully.

“That was… stupid,” he murmurs, his voice so low only you can hear it. His thumb brushes your cheekbone softly, almost absentmindedly, as if grounding himself. “I shouldn’t have done that…”

You inhale shakily, your lips tingling from the kiss, your mind spinning with confusion and adrenaline. But then his eyes harden just a fraction, and his mouth twitches into a bitter half-smile.

“Well—” he whispers, his voice dropping even lower, rough around the edges, “I’m not sorry for kissing you… I’m just… sorry I didn’t tell you why I was angry.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The vulnerability hidden in his words pierces through your anger, leaving you stunned and reeling. You’re so close you can count every freckle scattered across his nose, see the faint flush blooming across his sharp cheekbones.