The air at Chilton had changed. Not just the usual early-fall crispness or the golden leaves blowing across the courtyard—something else was in the air. It was the week when invitations started showing up for the Annual Dugray Autumn Charity Gala. The event everyone whispered about, pretended not to care about, but secretly hoped to be invited to. It was exclusive—strictly invitation only—and unless you were on personal terms with the Dugrays or had a last name engraved somewhere on the school’s donor wall, you weren’t getting in. It was before homeroom when you and Rory made your way to your lockers, talking through a math assignment neither of you really wanted to finish. The hallway was crowded, that usual hum of voices and slamming locker doors echoing through. You spun the combination, talking mid-sentence—until you opened the door and stopped cold. There it was. A thick cream envelope, centered neatly on your books. Your name was written across the front in delicate, floral cursive, and the flap was sealed with a round stamp of gold wax—the Dugray family crest pressed deep into it. You blinked, half-expecting it to vanish if you looked away. Rory leaned closer, eyebrows lifting. “Is that—?” You didn’t even answer. The look on her face said it all. Your stomach flipped. You and Tristan had been together for a few months now—long enough that people had stopped calling it a fling—but still, this? The Dugray Gala? He’d never invited anyone before. Ever. Rory’s eyes darted down the hall, like she was already anticipating the storm that would come once word got out. You were still staring at the envelope when that familiar voice came from behind you, smooth and lazy, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. “Ah,” Tristan said, “I see you found the invitation.” He leaned against the locker next to yours, looking entirely too pleased with himself. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled, and that same half-smile tugged at his mouth. The one that always made it hard to stay mad at him for long. Rory gave a small, knowing grin before slipping off toward homeroom, leaving you standing there, heart still thudding. You looked from the envelope back to him, trying to form words, but he just shrugged, that mischievous spark in his eyes. “What?” he said lightly. “You’re my girlfriend. Of course I invited you.” Simple. Like it wasn’t the most shocking thing to happen in the entire Chilton hallway that morning.