His Only Exception

When Worlds Collide

“So?” Sierra says, drawing out the word.



“So, from this moment on, everything is going to be p-e-r-f-e-c-t.” The hallway chimes no bell anymore, just some retro song voted in by students drifting through the speakers. Sierra starts walking beside me. “I’ll even arrange your perfect funeral. 



Flowers, speeches, the whole dramatic package.” “Who died?” a voice asks behind us. I turn. It’s Collin sun lightened hair from summer, grin too wide like he owns the hallway. I instinctively smooth myself down like that matters. I run in and hug him anyway. He holds me close, kisses me quick, then pulls back. “So? Who died?” he repeats. “Nobody,” I say quickly. “Forget it. Forget everything except me and you.” 



“That’s easy when you look that good,” he says, kissing me again. “Sorry I didn’t call. Moving in was chaos.” I smile, relieved nothing has shifted between us. For now, everything still fits. Collin drapes an arm over my shoulders as the front doors burst open and Adrian walks in with his crew like they’re taking over the building. 



“Why are they even here?” Collin mutters low. “Half of them won’t make it to graduation.” My eyes catch Adrian’s for a second and something tightens in my chest before I look away. 



“I almost ran into Adrian Reyes’s bike this morning,” I tell Collin once they’re gone from earshot. “You should’ve,” he says without hesitation. 



“Collin.” “At least something exciting would’ve happened. This place is dead.” 



Dead? I nearly crashed, got yelled at in the parking area, and already dealt with him. If this is the start, I’m not ready for the rest of the year. I knew I’d end up in the new principal’s office eventually, just not on day one. Principal Navarro sits behind his desk like he’s trying too hard to look intimidating. “This year we’ve added security personnel,” he says, watching me closely. I shrug slightly.



I’ve seen men like him before people who think rules fix everything. He talks about discipline, consequences, zero tolerance. I barely listen. “I’m not starting trouble,” I say finally. “That’s good,” he replies, “but I heard about a parking incident.” Of course he did. That “incident” was me almost getting hit by Brielle Hart’s expensive car. 



People like her don’t get blamed for anything anyway. I’ve worked too hard to let someone else’s assumptions define me. “It was a misunderstanding,” I say flatly. “Let’s avoid those,” he warns. “Understood.” In the hallway I realize I have no idea where I’m supposed to go. 



Gym clothes still on, I change quickly and check my schedule chemistry next. 



Perfect. Another controlled environment. I call home before class. My younger sister Mira isn’t doing great, and the caretaker situation is a mess again. I give advice I hope someone is actually following. I’m supposed to be focused on school Northshore University is the goal, close enough to stay near her. I walk into chemistry and immediately regret everything. Cole waves me over like nothing in the world can go wrong. “Saved you a seat,” he says. Of course he did. 



Then I notice Adrian in the back, already surrounded by his crew. “He’s in our class,” someone whispers. “I heard he got arrested over summer,” Collin adds quietly. 



I don’t respond. Rumors always travel faster than truth. The teacher Ms. Kline closes the door sharply. “Seats will be assigned alphabetically.” Groans ripple through the room. “Collin Adams,” she calls. “Darlene Boehm.” Then, “Brielle Hart.” I sit. “Adrian Reyes.” My head snaps up. No. No way. Of course. Of course it’s him. He sits beside me like it means nothing. “Call me Adrian,” he says without looking at her. Ms. Kline adjusts her list. 



“No outside symbols or affiliations in class,” she says firmly. Adrian removes a band tied around his wrist, expression unreadable. Cole mutters something under his breath that I ignore until Adrian hears it. “Say it again,” Adrian says quietly. The tension in the room shifts instantly. 



“Enough,” Ms. Kline snaps. “This is chemistry, not a battlefield.” But it already feels like one.