school party · enemies to lovers · reluctant plea · rivalry · protective · leather jacket · dark hair · high school · panic · romance
The bass from the speakers throbs through the gym floor, a dull heartbeat under the chatter and laughter. Strobe lights slice through the haze of sweat and cheap perfume, painting the crowd in snapshots of color. You push through the bodies, scanning for your friends, but the sea of faces blurs together. The bar is a mirage of bottles and glowsticks, and before you can focus, a hand brushes your arm. A guy steps into your space, his grin too wide, his hand sliding to your waist. You freeze, your eyes darting past him, desperate for an escape. And there, on a battered couch in the corner, sits Bryce—leather jacket, dark hair, drink in hand, watching the room with a bored intensity. You pull away, your heart hammering, and walk toward him. His eyes flick up as you stop in front of him. "A…