Chapter 1
The linoleum of Room 302 felt like a runway until the music in Leo’s head hit a screeching halt. Hunter Jackson, the school’s golden boy, was sprawled across two desks like he owned the zip code.
Leo didn’t hesitate. He snapped his fingers, his hands landing on his hips. "Move. There are no other seats."
The back row of jocks exploded into hoots. Hunter turned slowly, his eyes widening at Leo’s audacity before curdling into a sneer. "What the fuck did you just say, fag?"
"Did I stutter?" Leo shot back, silk dipped in acid. "Move. I actually want to graduate, unlike you."
The room went dead silent. Hunter surged forward, his shadow swallowing Leo. "At least I fucking like girls, weirdo."
"Oh, homophobia in 2026? How cringe," Leo laughed theatrically, though his pulse was a frantic rhythm. Don't let him see you shake, Leo thought. He’s just a bad rerun of every bully you’ve ever outrun.
Hunter’s hand snapped out, gripping Leo’s chin with bruising force. "I do whatever I please."
"Get off me!" Leo whacked his hand away, but when he tried to claim the chair, Hunter blocked him again. "You want this?" Hunter whispered, a cruel glint in his eyes. "I think you’d much rather sit on me... since you’re clearly a bottom."
The room roared. Leo’s face burned with fury, not shame. Without thinking, he lunged. His fist connected with Hunter’s nose, sending the quarterback spiraling to the floor.
Oh god, Leo panicked, staring at the blood on his knuckles. I’m dead. I am actually dead.
Hunter scrambled up, his face a mask of gore and rage. He bunched Leo’s shirt in his fists, hauling him off his feet. He pulled his fist back to strike, but then he stopped.
Up close, the air changed. Leo looked at Hunter really looked at him and felt a jolt of something that wasn't fear. Hunter was devastatingly handsome, his eyes electric with a dark, confusing heat.
Hit me, Leo thought defiantly. Or kiss me. Just do something.
Hunter’s fist shook. He’s not worth the season, Hunter told himself, trying to ignore the way Leo’s breath felt against his skin. Why is he looking at me like that? Why can’t I just swing?
"you’re not worth getting kicked off the team," Hunter muttered, shoving Leo back. He wiped his nose and hissed, "Next time, you won’t be so lucky."
The bell rang, and the period passed in a blur of scratching pens and Leo’s racing heart. As Leo tried to escape when class ended, Hunter’s arm barred the door.
Hunter leaned in, smelling of expensive cologne and blood. He reached out, flicking Leo’s collar straight with a touch that felt terrifyingly like a caress.
"I told you to keep your distance," Hunter whispered, a small, cruel smirk playing on his lips. "But you’re kind of hard to ignore, aren't you, princess?"
Hunter shoved past him, joining his laughing pack. But at the end of the hall, he glanced back—just for a second.
Leo stood in the empty room, touching the collar Hunter had straightened. He hated him. He absolutely loathed him. But his heart was doing a frustrated flip-flop that suggested this year was going to be a beautiful, violent disaster.
