You Will Be Mine

I pulled into the school lot, the Supra purring under me

like it knew it didn't belong with the other half-dead sedans and clunky

hand-me-downs parked around it. I cut the engine, took a breath, and stepped

out.

The morning air hit me first—cool, sharp, but not enough to

snap me out of my head. My uniform felt stiff, brand new, and freshly

ironed—tailored, obviously. The blazer hugged my shoulders just right, tie

knotted neat at my throat, and my dark curls were swept back with just the

right amount of messy effort.

Not bad for someone running on zero hours of sleep and a

brain full of regrets.

I barely made it through the front gates when the stares

started. Not subtle ones either—full-on turn your head and whisper behind your

hand kind of stares. Eyes lingered. Some widened. Some smirked. Some just

blinked like I'd walked out of a drama series.

Guess I wasn't invisible here. Great.

I kept my face neutral, jaw relaxed, shoulders squared, and

followed the trickle of students heading toward the auditorium. Assembly.

Orientation. Whatever they wanted to call it.

The place was packed.

A sea of uniforms, chatter, and too many faces. The noise

level was just shy of a concert, and suddenly, I felt it—that weight in my

chest. The pressure. The doubt.

I stood in the doorway for a second too long, heart thudding

harder than it should. Maybe this was stupid. Maybe coming here was a mistake.

This place was huge—what were the odds? What if I didn't find him? What if I

was just chasing ghosts again?

But I was already here. Already committed. So I swallowed

the doubt, tucked my hands in my pockets, and walked in.

And just like that, the whispers followed.

"Is that a new student?"

"He's so hot…"

"I've never seen him before."

And then, the one that hit different—

"What a major fuckboy."

I turned instinctively, eyes scanning the crowd, but the

voice got swallowed up in the buzz of everything else. I couldn't pin it down.

It could've been anyone.

I hadn't even been here five minutes, and already I felt

exposed. Like I'd walked into a spotlight with a target painted on my back. My

skin prickled, and every cell in me screamed to bolt.

This was a bad idea.

Maybe the worst one yet.

But still… I kept walking. Found the senior row. Took a

seat.

Because even if I had to crawl through every hallway in this

damn school—I was going to find him.

And nothing, not even the noise, the stares, or the nasty

comments, was going to stop me.

We were addressed by the principal. Then a couple of teachers.

One by one, they droned on about school spirit, community, teamwork, "knowledge

is power" and all that junk. My brain tapped out five minutes in.

The only real mystery that morning was how I didn't pass out

from pure boredom.

I shifted in my seat, tapping my fingers against my knee,

every word bouncing off me like static. My head was buzzing with its own

problems—doubt, frustration, nerves. I wasn't here for motivational quotes. I

was here for something—someone—important. Or at least I thought I was.

Then came the student body's vice president. Apparently, the

president was MIA, so we were stuck with second-in-command. The crowd clapped,

the guy stepped up to the mic, and I was already zoning out, ready to ride

another wave of boredom—

Until he smiled.

Bright. Honest. Easy in a way that felt so out of place in

this stiff, suffocating auditorium. And in that split second, something just…

hit me.

Like a punch to the chest.

He was beautiful.

Not in a flashy, in-your-face way. Just soft. Warm. The kind

of face that could calm chaos or light a fire depending on how he looked at

you. My stomach tightened, and for a moment, the rest of the world just muted.

Then came the confusion.

Was this him? The person I was here for? The reason I transferred

to this school in the first place? Or… was this someone else entirely?

Someone new.

Someone who just cracked open something I thought I'd buried

a long time ago.

Panic crept in, slow and cold. My thoughts scattered like

broken glass. What if he was the type to get weird at the very idea of another

guy liking him? What if he looked at me with disgust? What if he already had

someone—someone who wasn't me?

And let's be real—what if I ruined it before it even began?

I wasn't exactly known for being charming. I had rough

edges, maybe too many. I wasn't soft or easy like his smile. I didn't know how

to be. I could barely sit still without overthinking myself into a headache.

Which was exactly what started forming behind my eyes—this

tight, painful throb like my mind had turned into a war zone. Half of me

screaming, Don't even think about it.

The other half whispering, What if…?

And beneath all of that? A quiet truth I couldn't shake.

Whoever this guy was—he had me. Hooked. Fast.

Was it just another Theo situation? My weakness for soft

eyes and kinder hearts?

I didn't know. Not yet.

But one thing was certain—if I didn't try, I'd never find

out.

The orientation… assembly… whatever the hell that was. Some

weird initiation ritual designed to bore us all to death before school actually

began.

Anyway, it was over. Thank God.

The moment we were dismissed, the crowd spilled out into the

hallway like someone had shaken up a bottle of soda. Everyone talking,

laughing, buzzing with energy I couldn't match. I slipped through them,

dragging my feet, but my mind was far, far away.

I couldn't get him out of my head.

The vice president.

That smile.

Those eyes.

That voice.

Like he'd reached into my chest and flipped a switch I

didn't even know was there. I hadn't even been paying attention, and yet

somehow, he was all I could think about now.

The vice president…

What was his name again?

I paused. Frowned. Dug through my memory like a madman

flipping through messy drawers.

Nothing.

"Awh, shit," I muttered under my breath, the frustration

boiling over. I smacked my forehead. "Fucking moron."

How could I get so obsessed with someone and not even

remember his name?

Wait… I didn't know the name of the first guy I ever fell

for either.

Groaning, I smacked my forehead. "God, I'm so dumb."

Fucking hell! This

was becoming a pattern. A bad one.

Was I just cursed to keep falling for guys I couldn't even

properly identify?