The office door clicked shut, the heavy mahogany muffling the frantic energy of the hallway. Mrs. Adams—a woman whose authority was usually as sharp as her pressed blazers—leaned back in her leather chair. Her eyes traced Lucas with a mixture of hunger and irritation, her professional facade crumbling the moment they were alone.
Lucas didn't wait for an invitation. He hopped onto the edge of her desk, sweeping a stack of disciplinary reports aside with his boot. "You called me here for a lecture, yet your heart rate says you're ready for a lab session," he teased, his voice dropping to a low, confident vibration.
"You're a liability, Lucas," she whispered, though she didn't pull away when he leaned in. "The school board is already breathing down my neck about the 'atmosphere' in the hallways. And then you go and perform a romantic drama in front of the lockers? With a new girl, no less?"
"Jealousy doesn't suit a Principal, Elena," Lucas countered, his hand moving to the knot of his tie.
The air in the office was thick, charged with the same cynical energy that fueled Lucas's entire existence. For him, this wasn't love—it was a transaction. He traded his "perfection" for protection, ensuring his grades stayed afloat and his record stayed clean. But as he moved closer, a flash of blonde hair from the hallway crossed his mind. Rishie. Her rejection still felt like a cold burn on his skin, a glitch in his otherwise flawless matrix of conquest.
Just as Lucas reached out to tilt Elena's chin upward, a sharp, rhythmic rapping sounded on the frosted glass of the office door. It wasn't the tentative knock of a student in trouble; it was precise and demanding.
"Mrs. Adams? It's Rishie. I was told to come here to finalize my transfer credits and schedule."
Lucas froze, his smirk widening into something predatory. The "Beauty without Brains" was right outside. A sinister idea began to take root in his mind. He didn't pull away; instead, he stayed exactly where he was, perched on the desk like he owned the room.
"Tell her to come in," Lucas whispered.
"Are you insane?" Elena hissed, frantically straightening her skirt and smoothing her hair. "Get off the desk, Lucas. Now!"
"Do it," he pressured, his voice a cold blade. "Or I might just tell the board why my History grade magically jumped from a D to an A last semester. Let her see who really runs this office."
The door opened, and Rishie stepped in, her eyes immediately landing on Lucas. Her expression shifted from professional curiosity to pure, unadulterated loathing. She didn't look at Mrs. Adams; her gaze was a laser beam fixed on the boy she considered a plague.
"Oh," Rishie said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't realize the Principal's office was also a lounge for the school's local... maintenance man."
"He was just leaving, Miss Rishie," Elena said quickly, her face a shade of red that clashed horribly with her lipstick. "We were discussing his... extracurricular behavior."
Lucas stood up, smoothing his shirt with exaggerated care. As he walked toward the door, he made sure to pass as close to Rishie as possible. The scent of her rose fragrance hit him again, clashing with the sterile smell of the office. He leaned into her ear, his voice a ghost of a threat.
"You keep running into me, Rishie," he murmured. "Almost like you're looking for me. Careful, or I'll start thinking you want to be more than just a cousin-in-law to my past."
Rishie didn't flinch. She turned her head, her green-shaded eyes locking onto his with a fire that made the memories of Kit feel like lukewarm water.
"You think every girl is a lock you can pick, Lucas," she said, her voice loud enough for the Principal to hear. "But some of us are the storm that breaks the house down. Kit didn't just leave you because she was a 'whore.' She left because she realized there was nothing inside you worth staying for. You're just a hollow shell with a pretty face."
The silence that followed was deafening. Lucas stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him. For the first time in years, the "Sex God" of Rokehurst High felt a shiver that had nothing to do with pleasure.