DAISY

The sun is way too bright for someone like me, whose morning started with three hours of homework, a burnt piece of toast, and a caffeine crash halfway to school. I drag myself into the courtyard, my bag slung over one shoulder, clutching a book that definitely isn’t for class.

Of course, Adrian McAlister is exactly where I expect him, sprawled out on the stone ledge near the fountains, looking like he walked straight out of a YA fantasy novel. Lazy smirk, perfectly messy hair, and a phone in his hand like it’s his lifeline.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” he says, barely glancing up. “I was...