Alexa’s Pov
During the second period, while I was preparing my books for history class, someone took a seat next to me. I turned to identify the individual, and a surge of anger coursed through me. I shot Michael a disdainful glance.
"What are you doing next to me?" I inquired with evident hostility. "This behavior resembles stalking and is becoming increasingly bothersome." My face flushed with rage. Why couldn't he simply leave me alone? Why were we forced to share the same class?
"We used to sit together," he asserted, as though the events of the past three months had been erased.
"That was before you manipulated me like a marionette," I retorted, gathering my books and bag in preparation to relocate. I had no desire to remain seated beside him. Each time I glanced in his direction
