The Bad Boy’s Obsession

He was the boy everyone feared. The rumor, the warning, the danger parents prayed their daughters would never meet. I didn’t know that when I first saw him. All I saw was a hallway crowded with strangers, the scrape of lockers, the hum of chatter and then silence. Not slow. Not gradual. Complete silence, like the school itself took a breath. And then he walked in. Jace Blackwood. He moved like he owned the hallway. Shoulders broad, jaw sharp, black hoodie hanging loose over a lean frame that radiated danger without effort. Students stepped out of his way as if their bodies acted on instinct. His eyes, cold, dark, unreadable and they cut through the noise without him saying a single word. I froze, knuckles turning white around my backpack strap. I’d been at Ridgeview Academy for exactly five minutes. Five minutes… and the school already felt like an entirely different world. “Don’t stare,” someone whispered sharply beside me. I blinked, tearing my eyes away. A brunette with too much lip gloss raised her brows at me. “That’s Jace Blackwood,” she added. “If he catches you looking, you’re dead.” “I—I wasn’t looking,” I lied. She snorted. “Everyone looks. They just pretend they aren’t.” I swallowed, trying to calm the nervous flutter rising in my chest. Back home I was invisible. Here… I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be. I stepped forward. And my schedule slipped from my fingers, fluttering to the floor. Right at Jace Blackwood’s boots. The hallway gasped. He stopped walking. His gaze lifted to mine. For a moment, the world felt unbearably still. He bent down, picked up my paper, and stood slowly, his height intimidating but graceful in a way that made my stomach twist. “This yours?” His voice was low, smooth, the kind of voice that didn’t need volume to command attention. “Yes,” I whispered. He held it out, and our fingers brushed. A spark shot up my arm so suddenly I almost pulled back. Jace’s jaw tightened like he felt it too and hated that he did. “Watch where you’re going,” he said. Not rude. Not kind. Just… a warning. He handed me the paper and walked away, his presence leaving a cold trail behind him. I exhaled shakily. The brunette let out a breath. “Girl. You must have a death wish.” I stared at Jace’s retreating figure. He didn’t look back once. But for some stupid reason… I wished he did. CLASSROOM My heart hadn’t stopped racing by the time I reached my first class. English. My safe place. Or it should’ve been. Students were already seated, staring like I had “new girl” tattooed on my forehead. I took a seat at the front. The whispers began. “That’s the girl Jace talked to.” “No one gets that close to him.” “She’s dead by lunch.” I rolled my eyes, even though nerves were still crawling up my spine. People exaggerate. Right? The door opened. Silence fell again. No way. Jace walked into the classroom. My heart lodged in my throat. He didn’t sit with anyone. He dropped into the back seat, hood up, legs stretched out, expression bored but deadly enough to make the teacher hesitate before speaking. I told myself not to look. But my eyes betrayed me. They drifted back. And he was already staring at me. Dark. Intense. Like he was trying to figure out why I existed. I whipped my gaze forward, cheeks warming. His stare didn’t move. Not once. Not for the entire class. AFTER CLASS I packed my books fast, praying he would walk out first. Nope. He stayed seated, watching. I tried passing him without making eye contact—key word: tried. “Hold up.” His fingers brushed my wrist, not grabbing, just enough to stop me. Warm. Firm. Uncomfortably gentle. I froze. “You’re new,” he said. I nodded, unsure if talking would make things worse. His eyes flicked over my face. Not in a disgusting way. In a confused way. Like he was studying something he didn’t understand. “You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured. “Like what?” I breathed. “Like you’re not scared.” My pulse jumped. “I’m not,” I whispered. His jaw clenched. “That’s exactly the problem.” He let go of my wrist and stepped back, eyes sharper now, guarded. “Stay away from me, Ariel.” My breath hitched. “How… how do you know my name?” He didn’t answer. He just walked away, leaving me standing in the doorway, heart pounding like I’d just survived something dangerous. Which I probably had. LATER Finding my locker took longer than it should have. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I blamed the lack of sleep, the new school, the pressure. I did NOT blame the boy with the cold eyes. Except… part of me did. I spun the lock again. Wrong combination. Again. Nothing. “New girl problems?” a voice teased behind me. I turned and flinched. Not Jace. His friend. Mason Hart. Tall, sandy-haired, a lazy grin on his face as he leaned against the lockers like he lived there. He was everything Jace wasn’t, warm where Jace was cold, friendly where Jace was distant. “Relax,” Mason chuckled. “I don’t bite. Much.” “I’m fine,” I muttered. He raised his hands. “Alright, alright. Just checking. Jace hasn’t scared you off yet?” My stomach twisted. “Why does everyone assume he will?” Mason snorted. “Because he scares everyone off.” I hesitated. “He… told me to stay away from him.” “Yeah,” Mason said with a shrug. “Standard Jace disclaimer. Don’t take it personal.” “Should I?” I asked quietly. Mason’s grin faded a little. He looked at me with something close to sympathy. “Look, Ariel…” he said, voice softer. “Jace isn’t what people think. But he’s not harmless either.” I swallowed. “And I’m supposed to… what? Ignore him?” He smirked. “Trust me, he’s already noticing you. Ignoring him won’t help.” My heartbeat tripped. “Why me?” I whispered. Mason shrugged again. “You looked him in the eye. Most people don’t.” “I didn’t mean to.” “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Jace notices the people who aren’t afraid of him.” He pushed off the lockers and winked. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.” Before I could respond, he walked away. I stood there, heart thudding, overwhelmed and confused. Why did I feel like I’d stepped into a story I didn’t ask to be part of? Why did Jace Blackwood’s warning feel like the first page of something I couldn’t escape? And why is it that no matter how hard I tried, I could still feel his eyes on me.