Lucas' POV
The locker wouldn't open.
I yanked at the handle again. Nothing.
I muttered something unholy under my breath and gave it a half-hearted kick.
Still jammed. Of course.
I was already late for chemistry, and Ms. Torres didn't exactly hand out participation stars for being cute and flustered. I needed my stupid textbook. I leaned in, trying the combination one more time, and that's when it happened.
"BOO!"
"AH—!"
I jumped so hard I smacked my head against the locker and stumbled back… right into someone's chest. Something solid and warm.
Then I was on the floor.
The locker finally decided to open
Books littered everywhere. Pride shattered. Death imminent.
"Oh shit, dude—are you okay?"
I groaned, rubbing the back of my head as I looked up—and into a hand stretched toward me.
"Y-Yeah," I mumbled, gripping it and letting myself be pulled back to my feet. "Thanks"
"Don't worry about it " he said, flashing a small smile.
That voice. That hand. That face.
Oh no.
By the time my brain caught up with reality, a wave of rowdy football guys came crashing into the hallway like a pack of noisy hyenas, scooping him up and dragging him away in their testosterone tornado.
I just stood there, blinking. Watching his back disappear down the hallway.
Blake Parker.
The Blake Parker.
Captain of the football team. The most worshiped guy on campus.
And also my ex-childhood best friend. And current crush. And walking heartbreak.
Kill me.
"Ew," said a familiar voice behind me, her hand plopping dramatically on my shoulder. "You're practically drooling. Wipe your mouth before someone slips and sues the school."
I sighed. "Shut up, Amy."
She laughed that witchy cackle of hers. "Oh my gosh. You have the biggest crush on the biggest jerk in this entire school."
"He's not a jerk."
Amy raised an eyebrow. "Blake…? Really?"
"You just don't know him," I added quickly, voice softer now.
She exhaled and shook her head. "I love you, babe. But you really need to understand—the Blake Parker you knew before? He's not the same one you're seeing now."
"That's literally not possible."
She groaned like I'd committed a crime against common sense.
I kept going, ignoring her judgment. "He's still… Blake. Dreamy. Pretty eyes. And—"
RRRRING.
The bell.
"Hail forces of the Universe !" Amy cried out .
I rolled my eyes.
"And that was the bell," Amy said, hooking her arm through mine. "Come on, Buttercup. Let's go before I commit arson out of boredom."
******
Chemistry class.
The land of formulas and fluorescent lights.
I slid into the seat beside Amy and half-listened as Ms. Torres started rattling on about molecular something-somethings. But my eyes had a different agenda. They wandered—across the room—like traitors.
To the far side of the class.
Where he was.
Blake.
Sitting with his band of beautiful misfits.
Sonia Williams, queen of the hallway. Long legs, blonde hair, killer smirk. Probably had her own reality show already.
In front of her was Einstein Myers, the human irony. Parents gave him a genius name, and he gave them straight D's in return.
Then there was Jessica the druggie,no one really knew what her last name was. Part-time student, full-time party animal, and permanently high. Currently sucking face with her girlfriend, Anna Lee. Who probably deserved better, but hey.
And finally—Blake. Right at the back. Next to Sonia. Laughing. Like he didn't have a care in the world.
They weren't listening. They didn't need to. That crowd didn't care about grades or teachers or rules. They just existed above it all.
I stared longer than I should have.
Then—pinch.
"Ow," I hissed.
Amy smirked. "Not worth it, babe. He's in a different league. Whole different planet. And that is not the kind of crowd where adorable little nerds belongs in."
I sighed. "Yeah, but…"
"Shut up and help me solve this equation, Denacii."
And that was Amy in a nutshell.
The girl with combat boots, eyeliner so sharp it could murder, and a mouth that didn't believe in tact.
She was the first person who spoke to me when I transferred. Everyone else just… looked past me. But not Amy. She latched on and never let go. Said I looked like I "needed serious help" and then made it her mission to provide it.
And yeah, maybe she dressed like she was auditioning for a gothic rock band and maybe her pranks on the teachers were borderline criminal… but she had a good heart. A really good heart.
She was my best friend. The only one who knew the truth.
That once upon a time, Blake Parker and I were inseparable.
We held hands at recess. Shared ice cream. Promised we'd be best friends forever.
And now… he didn't even recognize me.
Just another awkward nobody in his rearview mirror.
I turned my head slightly and looked at him again.
Would I ever get the chance to talk to him?
To remind him?
To maybe tell him how I still felt?
Blake's group was still laughing about something when Ms. Torres finally had enough.
"Mr. Parker, Ms. Williams, Mr. Myers—if you're done disrupting my class, perhaps you'd like to join the rest of us in actually learning something today?"
A few students snickered. Sonia rolled her eyes dramatically. Blake leaned back in his seat, still smirking, while Einstein—because of course it had to be Einstein—raised a hand lazily.
"Yeah, uh… the answer is... magnesium? Or The Eiffel Tower of Francis? Honestly, I wasn't listening, Miss."
The class exploded. Everyone burst into laughter. Even the kid in the front row with chronic nosebleeds chuckled.
Amy scoffed loudly beside me. "They're the cool kids?" she muttered with full-on disgust. "Such morons."
I laughed under my breath. "Quit it," I said, nudging her back gently.
"Alright, that's enough," Ms. Torres said, trying and failing to reclaim control. "You all have a term paper due next Friday. I want it formatted properly, with citations—no AI-generated garbage. I will know. Don't test me."
She went on about grading rubrics, expectations, deadlines, and more stuff I was too distracted to absorb. I found myself scribbling in the margins of my notebook, not even sure what I was writing. Doodles. Random words. I just wanted the period to end.
RRRRING.
Blessed salvation.
The classroom came alive. Chairs scraped back, bags unzipped, students swarmed the door like it was the gates of heaven. I grabbed my things and stood up beside Amy, ready to bolt before Ms. Torres assigned another pop quiz on "responsibility."
And then I made the mistake of turning around.
Just a quick glance. Just one more look.
And there he was.
Blake.
Locked in a kiss.
With Sonia.
Not a sweet peck. Not a casual thing. No.
This was a full-on tongue match. Like they were trying to win an Olympic medal in mouth wrestling.
My heart stopped for a beat. Maybe two.
"Whoa…" Amy said softly behind me, her voice barely audible over the chaos.
I couldn't speak.
Couldn't move.
Couldn't breathe.
Sonia pulled back, her lips red and smug, eyes fluttering open like she had just finished a performance. Blake smiled lazily, all charm and no shame, like he hadn't just shattered the last hopeful piece of me I was trying to keep intact.
He got up, hands tucked in his pockets, casual as ever. His group started to follow. Sonia hooked her arm through his and leaned into him, grinning like she'd just won a prize.
They walked out like royalty.
I stood frozen, books clutched tight to my chest.
Hurt.
Sad.
Angry.
Jealous.
Jealous of her. Of the way he looked at her. The way she got to be in that world with him while I stood here, invisible.
Once, that used to be me beside him. Not in the kissing sense—well, maybe in my dreams—but at least close. Important. Seen.
Now?
Now I was just a memory he'd forgotten.
Amy touched my arm lightly. "You okay?"
I didn't answer.
Not really.