If Lisa had known, she would have kept her mouth shut—but she didn't. The situation had looked grim, and she'd assumed she was doing him a huge favor. Apparently, she wasn't.
The wind blew bits of debris against her face as she leaned on the tree, hugging her coat and occasionally biting her finger. Who would've thought spring would come with a grudge against her—just like the boy casually strolling toward her?
Adam Lancourt, the most popular football player in Lisa's high school, was every teenage girl's wet dream. Yet he never gave any girl his time, and here he was, walking straight toward her with his usual bored expression. The moment he spotted her, Lisa wished she could shrink into her skin.
"Why did you ask me to meet?" His thick, husky voice delivered the question like a command as soon as he was within earshot.
Lisa blinked, taken aback; she'd half expected him to be surprised to see her. After all, she had anonymously sent the message telling him to meet her—and warning him of his impending doom if he didn't show up. He must have thought it was someone else, maybe one of his teammates. But he didn't seem fazed at all. He was fully in control, unlike Lisa, who was silently cussing herself out in her mind like a sailor.
She shivered but held his gaze—those captivating emerald eyes that seemed to swirl with stars. How was it even possible to have stars in your eyes? Lisa had to be tweaking, because for a moment she saw one of the stars burst before vanishing with the others.
Wow. Who is this boy?
Okay. Focus, Lisa. She was here to save his beautiful ass from a humiliation she knew all too well. She internally scolded herself.
"Well…" she began weakly, her knees threatening to buckle. His gaze was ineffable, and she struggled to drag the words to her lips.
After what felt like forever, she finally spilled them out, far too quickly "Someone in school is planning to publicly humiliate you. They're going to say you're gay and have been sleeping with the chemistry teacher, and they'll send AI-generated texts between you two to everyone."
She sniffed the air, as if searching for some kind of mental support. Adam's face contorted into a cynical frown, and he massaged the back of his neck like he was in pain.
Lisa's eyes widened—she had finally cracked his bored demeanor.
She was seconds away from celebrating with a little internal victory whoop when he spoke. "I have this raging pain in my neck. Would you mind massaging it for me, since you're so concerned about my well-being?"
He shoved his hands into his pockets and tilted his head to the side.
This obnoxious prick.
Lisa couldn't believe her ears. She burst into sudden laughter, which only fueled her anger, leaving her shyness behind. "I'm trying to save you and my favorite teacher from unnecessary public humiliation, you prick!" she huffed, chest heaving.
She really shouldn't have involved herself in this, but she couldn't stand watching the innocent suffer. She didn't want Mr. Hardin losing his job over some teenage squabble.
"Then why didn't you go to your precious teacher? Why me?" he asked, taking two steps closer, closing in on her space and forcing her to press harder against the tree.
"Stop coming so close," she whispered weakly, her voice trembling. His scent—woody with a hint of citrus—hit her like a wave, making her senses reel.
When there was literally no space left between them, he leaned in, his voice a low whisper against her ear:
"Or… you were just looking for an excuse to talk to me."
He leaned back and smirked at her now-flushed face, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her.
"Well, look at that—my heroine blushing like a virgin bride!"
Lisa's hands shot to his chest on instinct, pushing him away. He staggered slightly, and for a second, she thought she'd overdone it. But then… he laughed.
Lisa froze, her chest tightened, and her heart stumbled in her ribcage. Adam Lancourt—the most stoic, unflappable boy in school—was laughing so freely, and it was...light, airy, and intoxicating.
If anyone had told her she'd hear him laugh like this, she would have scoffed in disbelief. Everybody knew Adam only looked bored. But now? Now there was a warmth, a playfulness she hadn't expected.
Was this a side of him he never showed at school? Was there more to Adam Lancourt than the aloof, untouchable image everyone knew?
After a beat, his voice cut through her thoughts, calm and measured. "Do you… think I'm gay?"
Lisa snapped out of her thought. She scratched her head, confused about how to handle this sudden development—and now this pressing question. "Err… why are you asking me this?" she pushed back.
He smiled, and Lisa felt her world tilt. It was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen—also intoxicating, as if she would do anything he asked in that moment. "I've never seen you with any girl," she blurted out in panic, her heart hammering in uneven beats.
He bit his lip, raised an eyebrow, and wagged a finger in her face. "You didn't answer the question. Yes or no."
Lisa swallowed hard. What the heck is going on? Is he flirting?
"There's nothing wrong with being—" she began, but his sparkling eyes stopped her mid-sentence.
He was clearly enjoying this, teasing her. Well, two could play the game.
"Yes! I totally think you're gay! You gay-ass motherfucker!" she screamed the last word, frustration and adrenaline rushing through her. It was supposed to be a quick conversation, not this chaos he was creating.
He laughed again, but this time it was short, sharp, and almost triumphant. Then, in an instant, he closed the space between them. Lisa barely had time to react before he scooped down to her height, tilted her chin up, and pressed his lips to hers. He tilted his head, trying to deepen the kiss.
A moan escaped Lisa as she melted into him, forgetting everything else—until she felt his hands on the small of her back. She gasped and pushed him away, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from a bite he had left mid-kiss.
"Now, Lisa Freeman," he said, his hand still under her chin, eyes blazing with intensity, "do you think I'm gay?"