**(Leah's Perspective)**

My family's breakfast table is a miniature warzone. My brother was shrieking, grabbing for bacon, while my sister managed to spill milk and cereal everywhere. Mom's voice provided a never-ending soundtrack to the chaos: "Stop fighting! Eat up! You're going to be late!"

Me? I was the wallpaper. A ghost. No one asked if I slept well last night, and no one noticed my scrambled eggs remained almost untouched on my plate. In the deafening noise, I silently grabbed a bagel and a banana and slipped out the door.

"Hey, Leah!" Mike, a guy from my class, whizzed past on his mountain bike. His tires cut through a puddle, nearly splashing muddy water all over me.

I forced a smile and waved. Watching his bike disappear around the corner sent a pang of bitter longing through me. I wanted a bike, too. Any bike would do.

But in this house, no one cared. My older brother, Tyler, the big man on campus, had a brand-new Ford Raptor, a hulking mechanical beast. He never once offered me a ride. Not once. So, day after day, I walked the two miles to school on my own two feet.

My stomach dropped as I reached the school building. **Crap. I forgot my lunch.** Looks like tap water would be my meal today. Fantastic. Miserable, I headed to my locker, swapping out unnecessary books for the ones I needed. I turned around, arms full—

**"Oof!"**

I collided solidly with a chest as hard as a brick wall. My books clattered to the floor in a messy heap.

I looked up, and my heart stuttered to a halt. It was **him**. Kayden Black. The school's golden god, quarterback, and… well, my secret crush. He had sun-streaked blond hair and piercing blue eyes, but right now, those eyes held no apology, only a flicker of annoyance at the interruption.

He didn't even break his stride, just glanced back over his shoulder, his arm still wrapped tightly around his current girlfriend, Samantha Greene—the school's resident queen bee and bully. "Watch where you're going, nerd," he tossed back without a second look.

My cheeks burned. I crouched down to gather my books. A foot clad in expensive canvas shoes stomped down hard on my copy of *Romeo and Juliet*.

It was Jenna, one of Samantha's lackeys. She leaned down, a venomous smirk plastered on her face. "Listen, Leah," she hissed, her voice low, "stay away from Kayden. Losers like you, nerds, don't belong anywhere near him. Got it?"

I bit my lower lip, saying nothing. What could I say? I *did* like him. It just made me more pathetic.

Jenna saw my silent defiance and sneered. She kicked the book away, sending it skittering across the floor, and spat on another one. "Know your place."

After they sauntered off, laughing, I stared at my scattered, soiled books. A wave of humiliation washed over me, cold and suffocating.

"Need a hand?" A calm voice with a distinct British accent sounded above me.

I looked up. It was Elliot Windsor. He wasn't like Kayden's typical all-American jock type. He had deep brown hair, a paler complexion, and features so refined he looked like he'd stepped out of a British drama. He was also the star pitcher for the baseball team—though in this football-obsessed town, that title didn't earn him much popularity.

"Thanks," I mumbled, my voice still shaky.

He helped me pick up my books, carefully wiping off the grime with a wet wipe he produced from his pocket. "*A Midsummer Night's Dream*?" He raised an eyebrow. "Heading to Mrs. Johnson's lit class?"

I nodded.

"Shall we?" He gestured with his head, his gaze falling on the books in my hands. "I'm guessing you prefer Queen Titania's tricks over the… action scenes in the hallway?"

We ended up talking about Shakespeare. He seemed surprised that I not only kept up but even had my own thoughts on Elizabethan dramatic structure. We walked to class together, still deep in conversation, and naturally ended up sitting next to each other.