Chapter 2

The crazy thought barely had time to take root before reality yanked me back to earth.

The very next day, my life completely derailed.

Before, I was invisible, safely ignored at St. Oak High; now, I'd become the center of unwanted attention and whispers.

"Did you hear? Michael almost broke Jason's arm in the hallway yesterday over that freak in the mask."

"No way. Someone like Michael—a total genius—how could he be into her? It's got to be just a pity thing."

"Elsa must've pulled some shady stunt to make herself look pathetic."

I sat in the corner of the chemistry lab, listening to the girls in the front row gossip, burying my head lower, digging at the remnants of dried plaster from the props still stuck under my fingernails.

I'd gotten used to this kind of hostility long ago. But the moment Michael's name came up, my heart felt like it was being pricked with needles.

"Professor's here." Someone called out, and the lab went silent in an instant.

Professor Smith walked up to the podium holding the roster. "This semester's chemistry lab counts for forty percent of your grade. You'll work in pairs. I'm assigning partners now."

My heart leapt into my throat. At St. Oak, no one wanted to be paired with me. Every time we did group work, I was the one left over, forced to do double the work alone.

"Chloe, you're with Jason."

"Perfect." Chloe turned around and shot Jason a flirtatious smile.

"Elsa..." The professor called my name, adjusting his reading glasses as his gaze swept across the classroom. "You're with—"

"Professor."

A low, calm voice came from the doorway.

Everyone turned their heads. Michael stood there, a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, wearing a crisp white dress shirt.

He strode into the lab with purpose and walked straight up to the professor, handing him a form.

"I just added this class and don't have a lab partner yet. I'm requesting to work with Elsa."

The entire class gasped.

Chloe's face turned ugly in an instant. She shot to her feet. "Professor! This isn't fair! Everyone knows Michael is a genius, and Elsa barely passes chemistry. She'll drag him down!"

Professor Smith glanced at the form, then at Michael. "Michael, are you sure? This could affect your GPA."

"I'm sure." Michael's voice was steady, without a hint of hesitation. "And I don't think Elsa will drag me down. She's smart. She just needs the right partner."

He turned around and walked straight toward me.

My heart pounded wildly in my chest, heat flooding my face. I watched as he pulled out the chair beside me, sat down calmly, and placed his books on the desk.

"Good morning." He turned his head, looked at me, and the corner of his mouth lifted into the faintest smile.

"Why... why are you doing this?" I kept my voice low, looking at him in confusion. "Chloe's right. I'll hold you back."

"I don't need anyone telling me how to pick my partner." Michael took out his pen and unscrewed the cap. "Besides, I like being around you."

The words detonated in my mind like a bomb. I jerked my head away, unable to meet his eyes, feeling even my ears burn hot.

The experiment began. We needed to extract a complex organic compound.

I was so nervous my palms were sweating, and the hand holding the dropper trembled slightly.

"Relax." Michael's voice came close to my ear. He didn't take over my work—instead, he leaned in slightly, his presence warm and steady.

His arm brushed against my shoulder, barely touching, but his body heat seeped through the fabric.

"Add two drops of sulfuric acid. Slow and steady." He watched the beaker, his voice low and focused.

I followed his instructions, and the reagents blended perfectly, turning a clear, vivid blue.

"You did great." He turned his head, his gaze deep and intent.

Just then, Chloe walked over holding a beaker. She swayed her hips deliberately and stopped at our desk.

"Michael, I'm a little confused about this step. Could you help me out?"

She set the beaker on our table, her body almost pressing against his arm. "Do you have time after the arts festival this weekend? My dad got two VIP backstage passes for The 1975, and after how well we hit it off at the gallery last time, I thought—"

My heart sank.

Gallery? They went to a gallery together?

A sharp, bitter feeling flooded my chest. Of course. Chloe was beautiful, confident, and wealthy. She was the kind of person who belonged by Michael's side. And me? I was just a freak who couldn't even show her face.

I quietly set down the dropper and shifted away, trying to put distance between Michael and myself.

Michael noticed immediately. His expression turned icy.

He didn't look at Chloe. Instead, he picked up the beaker she'd set on our table and coldly pushed it back toward her.

"First, the procedure is on page thirty-two of the textbook. If you can't figure it out, maybe you should repeat Chemistry 101."

Chloe's smile froze.

"Second," Michael finally looked up at her, his gaze glacial, his voice carrying across the room, "I'm prepping for Model UN this weekend. Never been to any gallery. If you saw someone who looked like me, get your eyes checked."

The class fell into stunned silence, followed by a ripple of suppressed laughter.

Chloe's face turned bright red, like a tomato. "But... but you talked to me in the hallway that time..."

"I talked to you because you were blocking my way." Michael cut her off without mercy. "Lastly, don't let me hear you spreading any ridiculous rumors about me again. It's annoying."

Tears welled up in Chloe's eyes. She bit her lip, shot me a venomous glare, and stormed back to her seat.

I stared at Michael in shock.

At St. Oak High, no one dared to humiliate Chloe like that. But what stunned me even more was how decisively he'd shut it down—no hesitation, no room for speculation.

He turned to me, noticing the dilation in my pupils, and his tone suddenly softened.

"Don't misunderstand." He lowered his voice so only the two of us could hear. "I have nothing to do with her. I don't like people making assumptions. And I especially don't like you making assumptions."

My breath caught.

"I wasn't..." I tried to defend myself, but my voice was so weak I couldn't even convince myself.

Michael sighed. Then, slowly, he reached out across the desk and gently took my left hand, which had been resting on the edge of the table.

His fingers were long and strong, wrapping completely around mine, which felt cold in comparison.

Hidden beneath the desk while everyone else worked on their experiments, he held my hand tightly.

"Elsa." His thumb brushed softly against the back of my hand. "There are some things I can't push you on yet. But I need you to know—I'm here for you. Only you."

In that moment, my heart—hidden in darkness for so long—cracked open. And the light hurt.

The sharp ring of the bell abruptly shattered everything.

"All right, everyone, class dismissed." Professor Smith tapped the board. "One last reminder—all arts festival props must pass final inspection tonight."

At the word "tonight," my chest tightened. Instinctively, I looked up, my gaze cutting through the crowd—

Jason sat diagonally ahead of us.

He was toying with half a broken pencil, his gaze venomous and fixed—as if he could see right through the desk to our intertwined hands.