*Chelsea's pov*
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The moment I stepped out of the car, my stomach twisted into a knot.
The school was even bigger than it had looked online.
Students filled the front entrance, laughing, talking, and moving in groups as if they had known each other forever.
I adjusted the strap of my backpack and swallowed hard.
I already felt out of place.
"You're going to be fine," my mother said from the driver's seat.
I forced a smile.
"Right."
Fine.
Easy for everyone else to say.
My hands felt clammy as I made my way toward the entrance.
Every face was unfamiliar.
Every voice belonged to someone I didn’t know.
The feeling of being completely alone settled heavily in my chest.
As I walked across the courtyard, a loud cheer erupted from somewhere nearby.
Curious, I glanced toward the outdoor basketball courts.
A crowd of students had gathered around the fence.
Some were recording with their phones; others were shouting excitedly.
I followed their gaze.
And then I saw him.
For a moment, everything else seemed to disappear—the noise, the crowd, even my own nervous thoughts.
A tall boy stood on the basketball court.
His dark hair disappeared beneath a backward black cap.
A sleeveless practice jersey revealed toned arms, built from years of training.
His movements were effortless, confident, controlled—like the basketball was simply an extension of him.
The ball left his hands—swish—nothing but net. As the crowd erupted again, the boy barely reacted.
As if making impossible shots was completely normal.
I looked away immediately.
Then looked back.
For some reason, I couldn't help it.
There was something about him.
Not just his appearance.
Not even the attention surrounding him.
Something else.
Something I couldn't explain.
The boy caught another pass, spun around a defender, and scored again.
Cheers followed instantly.
As he turned, my breath caught.
Wait.
I knew him.
Or at least I had seen him before.
My eyes widened.
It was the boy from yesterday.
The one painting in the garage at the end of my street.
The one I had accidentally stared at.
The one who had caught me staring.
Of all the schools.
Of all the towns.
Of all the people.
It had to be him.
For a moment, I simply stood there, stunned.
A girl standing beside me sighed dramatically.
"That's Jaden Carter."
I hadn't meant to stare.
Yet my eyes remained fixed on the court.
"Who?"
The girl looked at me in disbelief.
"You're kidding."
I shook my head.
"I'm new."
"Oh."
Understanding crossed the girl's face.
"That explains it."
The girl smiled and held out her hand.
"I'm Allie."
I accepted it.
"Chelsea."
"Welcome to Cherry Hill High."
Before I could respond, movement on the court caught my attention again.
Jaden looked up.
Our eyes met.
For a second, the world seemed to stop.
I froze.
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
My heart stumbled unexpectedly.
And this time I was almost certain he recognized me.
There was a flicker of something in his expression.
Recognition.
Brief.
Gone almost immediately.
But I saw it.
He remembered.
He remembered the girl standing outside his garage yesterday.
Wonderful.
Now I would forever be known as the weird girl who stared at people.
Then someone called Jaden's name.
He looked away.
The moment vanished.
"So..." Allie said with a grin.
"You just got the full Cherry Hill experience on your first day."
I laughed nervously.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you just met the most talked-about guy in school."
"I didn't meet him."
"You know what I mean."
Allie rolled her eyes playfully.
"Trust me, every girl here knows who Jaden Carter is."
I found myself glancing back toward the court.
"Why?"
Allie laughed.
"Besides the fact that he's ridiculously good-looking?"
I immediately looked away.
Allie's grin widened.
"I'll take that as a yes."
I groaned.
"I've been here five minutes."
"And you've already seen Jaden. That's practically a Cherry Hill tradition."
I laughed despite myself.
Allie seemed easy to talk to.
The kind of person who could make strangers feel comfortable.
"My brother plays on the basketball team too," Allie said as we started walking toward the building.
"Really?"
"Yep. Ethan."
I nodded.
"He and Jaden are best friends."
Something about the information settled into my mind.
Not because it mattered.
Obviously.
It didn't matter at all.
Probably.
"Come on," Allie said.
"I'll show you around before first period."
Relieved to have someone guiding me, I followed.
The school seemed much less intimidating with Allie beside me.
As we walked through the hallways, Allie pointed things out.
"The cafeteria is downstairs."
I nodded.
"The library is amazing. You'll love it."
"Good."
"The gym is on the east side."
We rounded a corner.
A group of perfectly dressed girls walked past.
Every one of them looked like they had stepped out of a fashion magazine.
The girl in the center flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and barely acknowledged anyone around her.
Allie lowered her voice.
"And those are people you should avoid."
I blinked.
"What? Why?"
"The mean girls."
"Seriously?"
"Very seriously."
I glanced back.
The blonde girl was beautiful.
And intimidating.
"Who's the blonde one?"
Allie groaned.
"Madison."
"What's wrong with Madison?"
"Besides being mean to almost everyone?"
I winced.
"Oh."
"And she's completely obsessed with Jaden."
I nearly choked.
"What?"
Allie laughed.
"It's practically public knowledge."
I shook my head.
"This school sounds exhausting."
"Sometimes it is."
We continued down the hallway.
After a moment, Allie glanced at me.
"Can I say something?"
I hesitated.
"Sure."
"I love your hair."
I blinked.
"What?"
"I'm serious."
Allie pointed at me.
"Your hair is gorgeous."
I felt myself smile.
"Thank you."
"And honestly?"
"What?"
"You're really pretty."
My eyes widened.
"Allie."
"I'm just telling the truth."
I laughed, feeling some of my nervousness fade.
Maybe today wouldn't be so terrible after all.
By the time we reached English class, I felt calmer than I had all morning.
"Looks like we're in the same class," Allie said.
"Really?"
"Really."
For the first time that day, I felt lucky.
The rest of the school day passed surprisingly fast.
A few awkward moments.
A few wrong turns.
A lot of new names.
But it wasn't awful.
Not even close.
And having Allie around made everything easier.
When the final bell rang, I practically sighed with relief.
I survived.
My first day was officially over.
When I got home, Clara was waiting in the kitchen.
The smell of dinner filled the house.
"How was it?"
I dropped my backpack beside a chair.
A smile tugged at my lips.
"It was actually... good."
Clara looked pleasantly surprised.
"Good?"
"I made a friend."
Mom's face immediately lit up.
"You did?"
"Her name is Allie."
I found myself telling Mom about the school, the teachers, the hallways, and the tour.
I left out one particular detail.
A certain basketball player.
For some reason, that part felt strangely private.
Later that night, after dinner and homework, I climbed into bed.
The maple tree outside my window swayed softly in the darkness.
My room was quiet.
Peaceful.
I closed my eyes.
But instead of thinking about classes...
Or teachers...
Or homework...
A different image appeared.
Dark hair.
A backward cap.
Confident movements on the basketball court.
The easy way he carried himself.
The way he seemed completely unaware of the attention he attracted.
And those brown eyes.
I groaned and buried my face in my pillow.
Ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
I didn't even know him.
Yet somehow, I couldn't stop thinking about him.
I lay back against my pillows, staring at the ceiling as a warm blush crept up my neck.
My mind was entirely consumed by him—the sharp, perfect angle of his jaw and the way his pitch-black hair fell across his forehead.
Closing my eyes, the daydream intensified, turning vivid and heavy.
I could practically see the warmth in his brown eyes looking down at me.
Oh, how I’d love to run my hands through his chest and feel those abs, I thought, my breath hitching slightly.
I imagined the contrast of my fingers against his skin, tracing the broad, strong curve of his shoulders.
Every detail of his body felt dangerously close, turning a quiet afternoon on my bed into a reckless, breathless fantasy I had no desire to escape.
Every time I tried to focus on something else, my mind drifted back to the basketball court.
Back to the garage.
Back to that brief moment when our eyes had met.
Tomorrow I would probably forget all about him.
At least, that was what I told myself.
Deep down, I already knew I was lying.
And with the image of Jaden Carter lingering in my mind, I slowly drifted off to sleep.
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