I thought walking into school on Monday would feel the same. Same lockers. Same fluorescent lights. Same posters about "Bullying Stops Here" that never actually stop anything.
But it doesn't feel the same.
Because now, I've kissed Lena Carter.
And she said yes.
Every step down the hallway feels like if anyone looks too hard, sparks will start flying out of my sleeves.
I'm halfway to my locker when I hear her.
"Ash!"
I turn, and there she is. Lena, in her red jacket, walking like the hallway belongs to her. Which, honestly, it kind of does. People move without even realizing it, like she's gravity and we're all just stuck orbiting.
She doesn't slow down. She grabs my hand, fingers sliding through mine like she's done it a million times, and says, loud enough for the hallway to hear,
"This is my boyfriend."
The hallway actually pauses. I swear time stumbles for a second.
People look.
Whispers start.
And I… forget how lungs work for a solid five seconds.
I manage to choke out something that sounds like "uh, hi," which is so cool and smooth, ten out of ten.
Lena beams, like she just claimed Mount Everest and put a flag on top. Her flag has freckles and dark hair and is currently sweating through his T-shirt.
"Just so we're clear," she adds, looking around with this little smirk that could melt steel, "he's taken."
Somewhere down the hall, someone whistles. Someone else mutters, "No way."
And me?
I'm standing there holding her hand like it's the only thing keeping me tethered to Earth, wondering when I turned into the guy everybody's looking at.
I've never been anyone's anything before.
Now I'm Lena Carter's boyfriend.
And the whole hallway knows it.
⟡ ✧ ⟡
We don't make it ten steps before someone calls my name.
"Ash, my man!"
Max Green.
Of course.
He's leaning against a locker like a movie extra who forgot his line. Hair messy, grin easy. Except… it's Max. Nothing he does is ever just "easy."
"Finally," he says, strolling toward us like this has been a long time coming. "I was starting to think I'd have to propose for you."
Everyone laughs. Everyone but me. Because under the jokes, I hear something else.
Max leans in like he's sharing a secret.
"So, boyfriend," he says to me, putting extra weight on the word, "how's it feel being the most envied guy in school?"
I swallowed,"Uh… weird?"
"Solid answer." He grins, but his eyes, God, his eyes are too bright. Like glass when the sun hits it just right.
"You know," he says, glancing at Lena, "you broke a lot of hearts today."
Lena smirks.
"Guess I'll live."
"Yeah," Max says softly, but then the grin snaps back like a rubber band. He claps me on the shoulder so hard I stumble.
"Seriously though, I was starting to think you were gonna die a tragic virgin or something."
"Wow," I say, cheeks burning. "Thanks for that mental image."
"You're welcome," he says, like it's nothing, like this whole thing doesn't cost him anything at all.
Then someone calls him from down the hall. He waves, flashing that too-bright smile again.
"See you guys later. Try not to be too gross in public, okay?"
Lena laughs and squeezes my hand as we start walking again.
And me? I watch Max disappear into the crowd, his shoulders loose, his stride easy, like nothing in the world hurts him.
But I saw it. That split-second crack in his smile when he thought no one was looking.
And for a reason I can't name, it sits in my chest like a stone.
As soon as Max disappears down the hall, Lena glances at me with this little smirk that's basically a loaded gun.
"What?" I ask.
She tilts her head.
"You heard him. You're officially the most envied guy in school. How does it feel to be famous, Mr. Popular?"
"Famous?" I snort. "Pretty sure three people clapping at lunch doesn't make me famous."
"Uh-huh," she says, pretending to think.
"So, the stares in the hallway? The giggling? That's just… mass seasonal allergies?"
I groan.
"Great. Now I sound like a walking rom-com cliché."
"You are a cliché," she teases, nudging me with her shoulder. "The broody guy finally getting the girl? Totally Netflix material."
"Broody?" I protest.
She grins.
"Oh yeah. The way you glare at people when you're thinking? Classic broody."
"I don't glare," I say, which apparently makes her laugh harder.
She squeezes my hand, and for a second the noise of the hallway just… fades. It's stupid how light I feel.
"I like it though," she says softly, like it's just for me. "Being yours."
I'm still trying to remember how to breathe after Lena says that when I hear a familiar voice behind me.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Mr. Relationship Goals himself."
I turned, and there's Josh, grinning like he just caught me stealing government secrets.
"Don't," I warn, but that only makes his grin widen.
"Too late. This is, like, a historic day," he says, looping an arm around my shoulders like we're in some cheesy sports movie.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Ash finally leveled up."
Lena laughs.
"Leveled up?"
"Oh yeah," Josh says with mock seriousness. "He's been stuck on the 'pining silently and writing sad poetry in his brain' stage for years. Now, boom! Boss fight cleared."
"Josh." I groan, heat crawling up my neck.
"What?" He blinks innocently. "I'm just saying, your character development arc is chef's kiss. We're all so proud."
Lena is practically doubled over now, tears in her eyes.
"I love this," she says between giggles.
"Please, tell me more embarrassing things about Ash."
"Gladly," Josh says, rubbing his hands together.
"NOPE." I grab Lena's hand before Josh can open his big mouth and start dragging her toward class.
"Conversation over. Delete your existence, Josh."
"Love you too, bro!" he calls after us, laughing like the devil himself.
Lena glances back, still grinning.
"He's fun."
"Fun?" I mutter. "He's a menace."
But she squeezes my hand again, and somehow, even being roasted alive feels… perfect.
⟡ ✧ ⟡
If there's such a thing as too much happiness, I'm pretty sure I'm overdosing on it.
It starts with Lena sliding her fingers through mine in the middle of the hallway like she's planting a flag on conquered territory.
The looks we get? Half shock, half oh-my-god-finally.
One girl even drops her smoothie. (RIP, strawberry banana.)
At lunch, she sits pressed against me instead of across, stealing my fries like it's her birthright.
"You have your own," I protest weakly.
"Yours taste better," she says, popping one in her mouth, smiling like she knows exactly what she's doing to my heart rate.
Josh, of course, turns into our personal paparazzi, snapping photos every chance he gets.
"Smile, lovebirds," he says, shoving his phone in our faces.
"Delete that or I'll end you," I tell him, but he just winks and walks off like he's selling them to TMZ.
The weirdest part? Everyone's… nice.
People who used to barely remember my name suddenly wave at me. A girl from chemistry asks me for notes and actually laughs at my joke.
(Was it funny? No. Did she laugh anyway? Terrifying.)
After school, Lena drags me to this tiny coffee shop she loves, and we share a slice of chocolate cake because apparently that's "romantic."
She smears frosting on my nose and almost chokes laughing when I glare at her.
I tell her she's a menace. She says I love it. (I do.)
Somewhere in between all this, she drops it, casual as anything.
"Oh, I told Dad about us, by the way."
I almost inhaled my entire drink. "You WHAT?"