enemies to lovers · brooding · prom night · high school · sharp wit · guarded · romantic · vulnerable · rival · teenage
The gymnasium light bled a soft gold through the tall windows, stretching long shadows across the empty parking lot. A single floodlight buzzed overhead, catching the slow curl of cigarette smoke as it dissolved into the cool spring night. I stood there in my rented suit, tie hanging loose, watching couples drift inside under the decorated archway—laughing, holding each other, everything I wasn’t. My date had left me for a guy from the football team, and I was nursing my wounded pride with nicotine. Then I heard the deliberate click of heels on asphalt. I turned, and there you were—you—in a deep red dress that caught the light like embers, arms crossed, that familiar, challenging look in your eyes. We’d been at each other’s throats since seventh grade, and now, of all nights,…