Novels by Bambi

Emily’s POVSenior year wasn’t supposed to feel like drowning.But that’s exactly what the past few days had felt like—an endless rush of deadlines, textbooks thicker than my will to live, debate prep that ate my lunch periods, and volunteer shifts that left my clothes smelling faintly of dog shampoo.Every second felt like sand slipping through my fingers.And the harder I tried to grip it, the faster it disappeared.The library became my sanctuary.The scent of aged paper, the glossy sheen of polished wood, the quiet whispers of pages turning—it was the one place where the world didn’t demand anything from me.Here, I could breathe. Here, I wasn’t the girl constantly scrutinizing every choice. I was just… me.But peace never lasted long.Because every time I walked into the halls, I saw him.Jake Blaze.Dark hair, leather jacket, fists that solved everything except his own anger issues.The guy who never passed up a chance to make my day worse and somehow still managed to look stupi

Jake's POVI didn’t start high school planning to be a problem.That’s the part no one ever believes.By the time people started whispering my name like it meant something—like it carried weight—I was already trapped inside it. Jake Blaze. Say it slow and people flinch. Say it fast and it sounds like trouble.But back then? I was just a kid with too much anger and nowhere to put it.Junior year, I had my usual seat in the back of Mr. Reynolds’ history class. Back corner. Closest to the door. Like I might need an exit at any moment.I leaned back in my chair, boots hooked around the metal legs of the desk in front of me, leather jacket creaking when I shifted. Mr. Reynolds droned on about wars and treaties like any of it actually mattered. I twirled a pen between my fingers, eyes drifting to the window, then back down to my notebook.Lyrics. Half-formed thoughts. Anger scribbled so hard it ripped through the page.Mark nudged me with his elbow. “Dude, you’re gonna get kicked out again

Emily’s POV The final bell rang, shrill and metallic, echoing through the hallways of Willow Court High like a warning siren.Students burst from classrooms in loud, chaotic waves—laughing, shouting, reuniting as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.I hugged my books to my chest, weaving through the noise.My long chestnut hair kept slipping forward, brushing my cheeks as I pushed my round glasses back up my nose. They always slid when I was stressed… which felt like every second of senior year.College applications. Scholarship essays. Finals.My brain was a hamster wheel that never stopped spinning.All I wanted was one peaceful afternoon in the library with chamomile tea and my half-finished personal statement.But peace is apparently too much to ask for.Because the moment I turned a corner, I collided with the one person I never wanted to see.“Whoa, watch it!” a deep voice snapped.I stumbled backward, my books scattering across the floor like someone had kicked apart a pap

Emily's POV Groaning, I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow, wishing I could linger just a moment longer in that enchanting world. However, the reality of my first day of senior year loomed over me like a dark cloud impossible to ignore.With a reluctant sigh, I dragged myself into a sitting position, the remnants of my dream fading like morning mist. My heart raced at the thought of the day ahead. Senior year. It felt monumental, yet terrifying. Would I find my place among the chaos of bustling hallways and crowded classrooms? Would I be able to keep up with the expectations I had set for myself?I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and glanced around my room, taking in the familiar sight of well-worn textbooks stacked beside my desk and the journal where I poured my thoughts each night. The cozy corner of my room felt like a sanctuary, a stark contrast to the uncertainties that awaited me outside its walls. I took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage buried deep withi

Jake's POVThe morning light slanted through the grimy window of my room, casting long shadows across the floor. I squinted against the brightness, rolling over to check the time on my phone. It was 6:30 a.m.The reality of the day ahead smacked me in the face. Senior year. The last lap of this high school marathon. I should have felt excited, but all I felt was a dull ache in my chest, an anxiety that settled like an unwelcome guest. I swung my legs out of bed, my feet hitting the cold wooden floor. It creaked beneath my weight, a familiar sound that had become part of the soundtrack of my life. The air in the room was stale, mixed with the scent of old sweat and something else I couldn’t quite place. I looked around at the chaos.Clothes strewn everywhere, empty soda cans piled up, and the remnants of last night’s dinner on the desk. My bedroom mirrored my life disordered and neglected.As I got up to face the day, I caught a glimpse of myself in the cracked mirror. My dark hair w