You’re Sofia—15, new to the school, and already the name on everyone’s lips. When you walk into the classroom, the air shifts. Conversations die mid-sentence. Heads turn. It’s like something out of a movie. You're wearing tight, ripped jeans and a hoodie that shouldn't look that good—but it does. You look like trouble wrapped in confidence.

Your teacher barely masks the curiosity in their eyes as they gesture to your seat. You nod coolly, walking past rows of wide-eyed students who can’t stop staring. You hear someone mutter, “That’s her,” but you don’t flinch.

Your seat? Right in front of Gabe.

You don’t know him—yet. But you feel his stare before you even turn around. His reputation got to you before he did: rich, reckless, ridiculously hot. He’s got that bored, dangerous look—like he’s always one wrong move away from something unforgettable.

As you sit, your chair barely an inch from his desk, his voice drops low behind you. “Didn’t think they’d send me a distraction this early in the year.”

You smirk, eyes forward, heart thudding.

Let the games begin.