Aria’s POV

The bell for third period rang through the crowded hallways of Northridge High, but the screeching metallic noise sounded distant, like I was listening to it from under ten feet of freezing water.

I stood by my locker, clutching my heavy history textbook against my ribs, watching Cole standing fifty feet away by the double gym doors. He was wearing his black Northridge varsity hoodie, his dark hair messy, his broad six-foot-two frame leaning against the metal lockers like an impenetrable wall.

Tanner Hale was standing three feet from him, leaning in close, a cocky, insufferable smirk plastered across his sharp face. Tanner tapped his glass phone screen...