I hadn’t expected it. One moment we were standing there, the familiar tension thick between us, then suddenly, Haze pulled me close by the waist. His lips pressed against mine in a swift, shockingly intimate gesture.

My entire body froze, a million thoughts colliding at once, before I jerked back. The confusion must have registered because he immediately turned away, muttering curses under his breath.

Haze De Luca—the boy who’d made my life a torment for years—had just kissed me. My skin tingled with disbelief, fear, and a strange spark of something unnameable.

Without another word, he started shoving his books and papers into his bag, avoiding my gaze.

Was he going to pretend this never happened?

Then, as he hoisted the bag over his shoulder, he pivoted to face me with an icy stare. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I swear, I’ll—" He broke off, the threat hanging sharp in the air.

Something inside me flickered with defiance. "Like I’d ever admit to something that embarrassing," I shot back, voice steadier than I felt.

His steps halted. My heart thudded wildly, and I realized I might have gone too far.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, but after a tense moment, he spun around and strode off, leaving me alone with a whirlwind of emotions.

I sank against the cold wall, exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. What just happened? Did he like me? Was it a mistake? I was more tangled up than ever.

The bell rang for lunch, jolting me from my thoughts. I stood and headed to the cafeteria, searching for some normalcy among friends.

There they were—Belly, Chase, and Aaron—laughing and chatting around a lunch table. Belly's eyes locked onto me, and she jumped up, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Eve! Where have you been? I called you a dozen times!" she exclaimed, concern lacing her voice.

Images of Haze’s lips against mine flickered unbidden through my mind. I forced a small smile. "Just needed some space to think," I said, settling into my seat.

Belly shot me a skeptical glance. "You actually had to think before answering?"

"Belly!" Chase warned gently, sensing the growing awkwardness.

Silence stretched until Aaron slid a tuna sandwich across to me. "Here. Have this. It’s my fault Haze tore up your journal. I shouldn’t have called him over like that." His voice was sincere, regret etched in his features.

I pushed the sandwich back towards him. "No. It’s not your fault. Haze did it. Plain and simple."

Aaron sighed, accepting my words as he took back his sandwich and began eating.

I glanced over at Haze, who was sitting quietly in the middle of his group, headphones in, eyes glued to his phone. One of his friends nudged him, and he nodded absentmindedly.

Then Haze’s gaze flickered my way. Our eyes locked, and a shiver ran down my spine. I quickly looked away, heart pounding.

But something pulled me back. He was still watching, his stare unapologetic. Slowly, he lifted his middle finger in my direction.

I blinked, stunned into silence.

Chase noticed my distraction. "What’s going on?"

"Probably plotting revenge on Haze," Belly joked, trying to lighten the mood.

I straightened, determination rising. "I don’t want revenge. Let him try all he wants, but he can’t hurt me anymore."

"Sure," Chase said, doubt flickering in his eyes.

I meant it. From now on, Haze was just another face in the crowd. I wouldn’t let fear rule me anymore.

Later that evening, as I stepped inside my house, Tom called out, "Evelyn, you’re home!"

"Eve," I corrected, heading upstairs to my room.

"So we’re on nickname terms now?" his teasing voice floated up from the stairs.

I smiled, but he didn’t see it.

Once inside my room, I collapsed onto the bed, reaching for my journal. It was gone—probably Haze’s doing.

I sighed and turned onto my stomach, hoping to nap. Naps were my escape — a way to vanish from everything that hurt me.

But minutes slipped into hours. I tossed and turned, unable to quiet the storm of thoughts swirling in my mind.

The memory of Haze pressing me close, his hands trailing lower, his eyes locking with mine, played on repeat. I tried to push it away, but it only dug in deeper.

His voice echoed in my head: "I hate that you affect me."

Don’t do it, Eve. Don’t let him in.

Yet, against every instinct, I found myself grabbing my car keys and rushing downstairs.

"Where are you going? It’s past nine," Tom said, startled.

"Friend emergency," I said, heart pounding.

He eyed me suspiciously but nodded. "Be back by ten."

"I will," I promised and headed out into the night.

At Haze’s place, I knocked and waited, nerves tightening with each passing second.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I should turn back.

But before I could retreat, his voice came from behind me, low and familiar. "Where do you think you’re going?"

I froze and turned slowly. There he stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but black shorts, sweat glistening on his skin. The intensity in his eyes made butterflies erupt in my stomach.

He silently stepped aside, and I slipped into the house—a mansion of marble floors and towering white walls that reflected a cold, luxurious emptiness.

"You coming or not?" he asked, voice sharp.

I followed him upstairs, my mind racing.

He led me down a long corridor and into his bedroom. After closing the door, he headed toward another door.

"Where are you going?" I asked, uneasy.

He glanced back, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Shower. Been lifting weights for an hour. Don’t want you to be covered in my sweat. Unless that’s your thing?"

I shook my head vigorously, and he chuckled.

"Make yourself at home. Won’t be long," he said before disappearing into the bathroom.

I sat on his bed, eyes roaming his room. It was surprisingly neat, the spacious area adorned with trophies and medals—mostly football awards. But one caught my eye: The Principal’s Award for top student.

That prize usually went to Chase or me, but I’d never heard who won last year.

The bathroom door creaked open, and I jumped, heart hammering.

Haze stepped out, towel around his waist, damp hair clinging to his forehead. His usual tough facade softened slightly in the dim light.

"You staying long?" he asked, voice quieter than before.

I swallowed, unsure how to answer.

He sat on the edge of the bed, closer than I expected. "Look," he began, "about earlier... I didn’t mean to mess with you like that. I’m... confused."

My heart pounded, emotions swirling. Here was the boy I’d feared and hated, suddenly vulnerable.

"Me too," I admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

We sat there, the heavy silence between us filled with words neither dared to say.

For the first time, the walls between us felt less impenetrable, and I wondered if maybe, just maybe, understanding was possible.