[1.3] My Valentine Approval Rating is a Solid 25%

Felix exhaled like he'd been holding his breath the entire time.

"Dude."

"What?"

"DUDE."

"Use words."

"You just... you just talked back to Cassidy Valentine. In front of everyone. Like it was NOTHING."

"I acknowledged her threats and asked her to be more time-efficient about them. That's not talking back. That's project management."

"She's going to DESTROY you."

"Probably."

"And you're just... okay with that?"

I leaned back in my chair. Closed my eyes. The teacher was taking attendance now, calling out names in alphabetical order.

"I have a two-hour train commute, two jobs, and a little sister who needs me to not die before graduation. Some rich girl being mad at me for a coffee stain is pretty low on my list of concerns."

"But—"

"Angelo, Isaiah."

"Present."

"But ISAIAH—"

"Beaumont, Felix."

Felix made a strangled noise. "Present!"

The attendance continued. I kept my eyes closed. The chaos of the morning was catching up to me. That adrenaline from the confrontation fading into the familiar haze of exhaustion.

Twenty minutes into senior year and I've already made an enemy of a billionaire heiress.

Sounds about right.

Somewhere in the front of the classroom, I could hear Harlow Valentine asking the teacher about the schedule. Her voice was cheerful. Warm.

And somewhere near her, I could feel Cassidy Valentine still staring at the back of my head.

This is going to be a long year.

Felix nudged me with his elbow. "Hey. Silver lining."

"What?"

"Harlow seemed to like you."

I opened one eye. "She seems to like everyone."

"Yeah, but still. One Valentine sister who doesn't want you dead. That's a fifty percent approval rating. Better than most politicians."

"There are four of them."

"Oh right. Twenty-five percent then."

"Your math skills are impressive."

"I'm here to support, not calculate."

The teacher began explaining the schedule for the semester. I let the words wash over me, filing away the important parts, discarding the rest.

In the front row, Harlow Valentine was taking notes with a pink pen. She had stickers on her notebook. Little hearts and stars.

Next to her, Cassidy Valentine was slumped in her seat, phone hidden behind her textbook, probably plotting my downfall via group chat.

Two down. Two to go.

Vivienne, the perfectionist.

Sabrina, the ghost.

Maybe I'll get lucky and never meet them.

===

The bell rang at 8:47 AM.

Felix stood up, stretching. "Lunch later? I found this new ramen place off campus that supposedly has a tonkotsu broth that'll make you weep."

"Can't. I have to check in with the registrar about my work-study schedule."

"You're always working. It's depressing."

"Bills don't pay themselves."

"Bro. Let me just—"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!"

"You were going to offer money. The answer is no."

Felix deflated. "I hate that you know me so well."

"Three years of exposure therapy. I know all your tricks."

"Not ALL of them. I'm very mysterious."

"You cried during the last Studio Ghibli movie."

"EVERYONE cries during Ghibli! That's not a me thing, that's a HUMAN thing!"

I grabbed my bag. Started toward the door.

"Ramen tomorrow?"

"If I'm alive."

"Dramatic. But okay." Felix gave me a lazy salute. "Survive the Valentines, soldier."

"I'll do my best."

I walked out into the hallway. The crowds were thick now, everyone heading to their first period classes. I merged into the flow of bodies, letting the current carry me.

My phone buzzed. Text from Iris.

IRIS: dont forget to eat today IRIS: real food IRIS: not vending machine stuff

I typed back a reply.

ME: Define "real food" IRIS: food that was alive at some point IRIS: or grew from the ground IRIS: chips dont count ME: chips are technically from potatoes ME: potatoes grow from the ground IRIS: ISAIAH

A smile tugged at my lips. First genuine one of the day.

ME: I'll eat something real. Promise. IRIS: good IRIS: love you idiot ME: love you too

I pocketed my phone. Kept walking.

The hallway opened into a larger corridor. And there, walking toward me from the opposite direction, was a girl with wine-red hair.

Not Cassidy. Not Harlow.

The purple eyes were the same, but colder. Distant. She moved through the crowd like they weren't there, like she existed in a different dimension entirely.

She was reading a book as she walked. Gothic cover. Some kind of novel.

Our paths were going to cross.

The mysterious one. Sabrina.

I considered avoiding her. Taking a different route. Playing it safe.

But she looked up.

Our eyes met.

And she walked past me without a word. Without acknowledgment. Like I was a ghost.

...Okay then.