°Amy’s POV°
The next morning, the whole school buzzed about one thing—prom night.
I sat at my desk, chin buried in my palm, while the chatter swirled around me like a whirlwind I didn’t want to get caught in. Everyone had something to say—who was going with who, what dresses they had ordered, which hotel afterparty was going to be the “real deal.”
Gia, of course, wouldn’t shut up either.
“Prom. A night of claiming, of bodies pressed close. Imagine what Jeremy’s hands would feel like on us—”
“Stop!” I hissed under my breath, shaking my head so violently that Christian, who sat behind me, leaned forward.
“You good?” he asked in that casual tone that sounded like he wasn’t nosy but always looking out.
I nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just…thinking about homework.”
He smirked like he didn’t be
