And froze.
Because Ash was standing there.
His arms full of flowers.
Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. All stolen straight from the grounds — some still dripping with mud, roots dangling, petals crushed like they’d been ripped straight out of the earth. Some still had worms clinging to them for dear life.
He looked like a savage bouquet with legs.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he grinned.
I froze like a deer in headlights.
Behind me, Jess actuallygaped.
Then she stepped closer, hovering at my back like she might physically drag me inside and slam the door.
I lifted a hand to stop her.
“Um… thank you?” I said, because what else was I supposed to say?
Ash’s entire face lit up. He looked like I’d just blessed him personally.
I took the armful of mangled flowers from him. He practically vibrated with joy. Jess and I exchanged a look — hers:are you insane?, mine:I don’t know what I’m doing— before I stepped inside and shoved the flowers into a glass of water.
When I turned back, Ash was bouncing on the spot like an overcaffeinated puppy.
Then, without warning, he took off in a sprint down the hallway.
Gone.
Just like that.
Jess let out a long, pained exhale.
“Congratulations,” she muttered. “You’ve imprinted on the psycho.”
We walked together down to the classroom. I noticed Jess stuck closer to me than yesterday. I didn’t draw attention to it. It suited both of us, though I did catch her watching me carefully every now and then.
We hadn’t talked about last night. But it was clear whatever had happened to her was clear in her memory.
I kept tugging at the hem of the stupid skirt, trying to make it longer even though it wasn’t going to grow. Every few steps I couldfeeleyes on me—hot, curious, lingering.
I wasn’t used to being looked at.
I wasn’t used to…having anything worth looking at.
Somewhere between fifteen and now I’d apparently grown a body—curves, a waist, legs the skirt didn’t bother hiding. And I hated it. Hated being seen. Hated feeling exposed.
“Just keep your head down,” Jess muttered, close behind me. “You’re a novelty. They’ll lose interest once they get bored.”
As we turned into the hall by the cafeteria, a cluster of guys blocked the entrance. Big guys—thick-necked, broad-shouldered, built like they’d been carved with aggression and protein shakes. One had his hair shaved so close he was basically bald. One eye was a clear brown; the other was swallowed in bruises that spread down his cheek like spilled ink.
The way he looked at me made my skin crawl.
“Well, hello pretty girl,” he drawled, voice oily. “When’d you get here?”
Before I could react, Jess stepped between us, her body a barrier, guiding me sideways with a firm hand.
