NOAH
Cornerstone Books smelled of old paper, fresh coffee, and the faint vanilla of the candles Mr. Davis insisted on burning near the register. Saturday mornings were usually peaceful—sunlight slanting through the front windows, catching dust motes in lazy golden beams.
Today, my mind wouldn't let me have peace.
I moved slowly along the shelves, restocking new arrivals while trying not to jar the bruise still throbbing along my jaw. Last night kept replaying on an endless loop: Seraphina sitting on our worn couch in that clinging black dress, smiling at my mom like some kind angel, then standing too close in the hallway—her expensive perfume wrapping around me, her skin warm and soft under my trembling knuckles when I'd helped her with her jacket.
The bell above the door jingled.
Riley burst in, sneakers squeaking on the hardwood floor, backpack slung over one shoulder. She rushed straight behind the counter, eyes wide with worry.
"Noah!" She scanned my face, then gently brushed her fingers near the purple bruise on my jaw. "Does it still hurt? I saw the videos—everyone at school is sharing them. Roman and his friends jumping you right in front of everyone… I can't believe they did that to you."
I stepped back slightly and forced a casual shrug. "I'm fine, Riley. Really. It looks worse than it feels."
She shook her head, anger flashing bright in her eyes. "I hate Roman Caldwell now. I used to think he was this perfect golden guy—rich, popular, team captain. Turns out he's just a bully with a trust fund." Her voice rose as she paced in front of the counter. "How could they do that? And film it? It's everywhere online. I've been texting you for days. Why didn't you answer any of my messages?"
"My phone broke," I said quietly, not wanting to drag her any deeper into this mess. "I'm okay. Just drop it, please."
Her gaze dropped to the counter where the glossy new iPhone sat beside the register, its screen catching the sunlight like a taunt. Before I could stop her, she snatched it up.
"Noah… is this yours? The latest model that just released?" Her eyes went wide. "How on earth could you afford this?"
"It was a gift," I said evenly, reaching for it.
"From who?"
I hesitated. The name stuck in my throat like broken glass. "Seraphina Voss."
Riley's mouth actually fell open. "*The* Seraphina Voss? Queen of Westfield Academy, daughter of the Voss empire, *dating-Roman-Caldwell* Seraphina Voss?"
I nodded, avoiding her stare.
A customer walked in right then—a middle-aged man looking for a new mystery novel—giving me the perfect excuse to turn away. I helped him find the book, rang him up, and watched him leave with a polite smile. The bell jingled again as the door closed.
When I turned back, Riley stood with her arms crossed, waiting expectantly.
"Because her boyfriend broke my old one," I finally said. The excuse sounded even weaker out loud. "It's not a big deal."
Riley studied me for a long moment, clearly unconvinced. "Or maybe she likes you… and that's why Roman got so jealous." She gave me a small, knowing smile before wandering back toward the shelves.
I let out a slow, shaky breath.
Seraphina Voss liking me? The idea was ridiculous. Laughable.
She was playing some twisted game, and I was nothing more than the toy she enjoyed breaking slowly.
Still, the memory of her standing inches away in my hallway—black dress clinging to every curve, perfume making my head spin, the warm silk of her neck beneath my fingers—refused to fade.
I hated how much I kept thinking about it.
I hated how my body reacted every single time.