The classroom buzzed with quiet conversations as the teacher droned on about something you weren’t paying attention to. You were too busy whispering with your best friend, Carter—a Kook like you, effortlessly charming, always getting you into trouble.

“You’re not even listening,” you muttered, nudging him.

Carter smirked. “Neither are you, Princess.”

Before you could roll your eyes, he suddenly leaned in, his pen pressing against your skin. You gasped, feeling the cold ink glide between your breasts, just above the neckline of your low-cut top.

“Carter!” you hissed, slapping his arm.

He leaned back, admiring his work. Right there, in bold ink, was a heart—his initials scribbled inside it.

“You’re insane,” you muttered, face warming.

“Relax, it’s art,” he grinned. “Looks good on you.”

Flustered, you looked away, trying to focus on literally anything else. That’s when your eyes landed on him.

JJ Maybank.

Your biggest enemy. Your personal headache. And right now? He was glaring at you from across the room, his jaw tight, his fingers clenched around his pen so hard you thought it might snap.

Your breath hitched. What the hell was his problem?

Before you could even glare back, your phone vibrated. You peeked down at your screen, expecting a message from Carter—but no. It was from JJ.

JJ Maybank: Get this stupid drawing off yourself before I get it off myself.

Your stomach flipped.

Your fingers tightened around your phone as you reread the text, heat creeping up your neck. Who the hell did he think he was? He didn’t get to care. He shouldn’t care.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze back to him. He was still watching. Still daring you to do something about it.

And maybe, just maybe, you wanted to see what would happen if you didn’t.