Ribbons of fate

Chapter 4: First Impressions Are Never Simple

​Tracy Rsman’s POV

A week had passed since we landed in San Francisco. The city still felt foreign, but school paperwork awaited—Jason and I needed to get that sorted.

I moved quickly through my morning routine, grabbed a crisp green apple from the counter, snatched my keys—the latest model from Rsman High—and headed out the door.

Pulling up to the school in style was almost effortless. The moment I stepped out of the car, whispers rippled through the nearby students: “Must be rich. Who is she?” I smirked. Some things didn’t need to be said aloud.

Then Jason made his entrance. His car roared up beside mine, sleek and impossible to ignore. Another wave of gasps followed him as he stepped out, tall, athletic, and effortlessly commanding.

Before I could even register his expression, he did the unthinkable—grabbed my face, pulled me close, and kissed me. Public, shocking, and utterly calculated. The crowd around us froze, but Jason always loved a performance. I let it play out, kissed him back in a split-second decision, letting the moment speak for us both.

Hand in hand, we walked toward the administration block. Inside, we finalized our paperwork. Only one class would overlap: Music. Jason said his goodbyes with a grin outside the office, leaving me with a whirlwind of questions. Why did he kiss me? Why pretend we were lovers? But there was no time to dwell.

Using the school map, I navigated the labyrinthine halls, books clutched tightly in my hands. So focused, I didn’t see him until it was too late.

I collided hard with someone, sending my books flying.

“Hey! A little apology would be nice!” I shouted, glaring.

Ethan Reece—Rez, my mysterious neighbor—stood there, completely unbothered. No apology, no glance. Just a low, dismissive chuckle before he walked away. My blood boiled.

“Let me help you with that,” a warm voice said. I looked up to see a girl with fiery red hair kneeling beside me. She introduced herself as Calista and offered to show me the way to my classes. Grateful, I accepted.

Finally, I arrived at my first classroom. Mr. Irkins, the English teacher, paused his lesson and asked me to introduce myself. “Hi, I’m Tracy Rsman, and I’m eighteen,” I said, keeping it short.

Then I looked at my seat—and froze. The only open spot? Right beside Ethan. My first direct encounter with him was about to continue… and nothing about this day was going to be simple.