Ezekiel's POV
The moment I pulled into the school parking lot that Monday morning, my gut twisted into a mess of knots that had nothing to do with the algebra test I hadn't studied for.
It was all about her.
Ximena Garcia.
The weekend had dragged by like torture. Anton was giving me the cold shoulder after our explosive argument recently, and every time Kane's words from the other night echoed in my head, I wanted to punch something. But underneath all that anger was something that cut deeper - the crushing weight of knowing I'd hurt her. That she was somewhere out there, probably hating me, and I'd played a part in making that happen.
I yanked my hood up and stalked toward the main entrance, my jaw already clenched tight. The hallway was buzzing with its usual Monday morning chaos - kids slamming lockers, groups huddled together gossiping about weekend drama, the constant hum of voices bouncing off the walls.
