The Wrong Collision

The winter morning in Stonebridge bit through every layer of clothing, a sharp, relentless cold that seemed to claw at the skin of anyone who was outside the winter morning.

Skye Emerson trudged across the nearly deserted school grounds as she approached the school gate, her breath puffing out in small clouds that dissolved into the frosty air while she shivered from the cold. Her gloved hands clutched a well worn sketchpad, its edges frayed from months of constant use, while a thick wool scarf covered high around her neck, brushing against her chin. Her dark brown hair peeked out from beneath a knit beanie, strands catching the faint falling clouds as she moved.

Most students hadn’t arrived yet. Her goal was simple, slip into inside unnoticed as a new student. She’s just another shadow in the halls of Stonebridge High.

She’d only been at the school for a week, and so far, she’d managed to keep her head down, her presence barely registering among the cliques and chaos of high school life. After losing her older brother in a tragic car accident years ago, Skye's been keeping her head down, navigating grief, school, and a broken home. She’s always felt like a background character in her own life, only for the fact she lives with her aunty and cousin sister, Maya. Life was fair living with them.

The school’s main hallway stretched out before her. Reaching the building, she entered. Lockers lined the walls, their faded red paint chipped in places, and the faint voice of a janitor’s vacuum echoed from a distant corridor when suddenly, her cousin’s voice, Maya snapped her out of her invisible state.

“Skye.” Maya called.

Skye turned towards the voice, seeing Maya running towards her.

“I’m glad you are early. Sorry I couldn’t wait for you. I needed to be here early as requested by my team.” The look on her eyes showed genuine apology as Skye worried inwardly Maya should speak up fast so she could head out before more students started coming. Skye is always not comfortable being around people.

“It’s fine.” Skye replied with a short smile.

“I’m heading to the cafeteria now. I’ll see you soon.” Marya added. Well, that was a relief for Skye. Skye nodded and just as Marya took a step to leave, she halted and called out to Skye again.

“Wait.”

Skye turned.

“If you need anything or feel uncomfortable in some sort of way, please let me know.” Marya requested and Skye replied. “Alright.” And then Skye watched her leave.

The solitude was fine by Skye, she preferred it. Her sneakers squeaked softly against the floor as she quickened her pace, eager to reach the safety of homeroom before the morning bell when suddenly, a sharp echo of heavy footsteps broke the stillness from the corner entrance, growing louder and closer with each step. Skye barely had time to glance over her shoulder before a solid force collided with her, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her sketchpad flew from her arms, pages of her books fluttering to the ground and she stumbled backward, catching herself against a locker with a metallic clang sound.

Pain shot through her shoulder, but it was the shock that stung more. She blinked up, heart racing, to find a wall of a boy standing over her. They had bumped into each other by mistake.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a navy duffel bag slung carelessly over one arm. His dark hair was tousled, damp at the edges as if he’d just come in from the cold, and his jaw was set in a hard line. Cold green eyes locked onto hers, narrowing slightly as he muttered a curse under his breath.

“Are you blind?” He snapped.

Skye’s stomach twisted as she recognized him. He was Knox Callahan, the rude and arrogant Stonebridge High’s golden boy, captain of the hockey team, and the kind of popularity that made people part like the Red Sea when he walked by. His presence filled the hallway, commanding and unapologetic.

Skye couldn’t find her words. Of course he should be the one to apologize and not her.

“Watch it,” he snapped, his voice cutting, irritation dripping from every of his words. He didn’t spare a glance at the scattered sketches at his feet or the pages of her book, their pencil lines smudged against the linoleum. Instead, he adjusted the strap of his duffel bag and turned, walking away.

Skye’s cheeks burned, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance flaring in her chest. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but he was already moving, his long strides carrying him down the hall. He didn’t look back, didn’t acknowledge her words. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air, mingling with the cold that clung to his jacket. She crouched to gather her sketches as she scooped up the pages and also her painting. It was a drawing of a windswept tree, one she’d spent hours perfecting, was crumpled at the corner, and she smoothed it out with care, ignoring the arrogant fool who never cared to apologize.

By the time she stood, Knox was gone, the hallway empty once more. Skye’s shoulders sagged, the weight of the encounter settling over her. This was exactly what she hated, being noticed, being seen, especially by someone like him. For three years, she’d perfected the art of invisibility at her old school, blending into the background with her sketchpad and quiet demeanor. Stonebridge was supposed to be a fresh start, a place to keep that invisibility intact. But one wrong step, one clumsy collision, and she’d landed square in the path of Knox Callahan, the human equivalent of a spotlight.

She made it to homeroom just as the bell rang, sliding into a desk near the back. The classroom had student in it already, the teacher’s desk cluttered with papers and a chipped mug. Skye tucked her sketchpad into her backpack, her fingers still tingling from the cold and the memory of Knox’s sharp words. She tried to focus on the lesson, but her mind kept replaying the moment his green eyes, cold and dismissive, the way his voice had sliced through the air had made her feel unsecured. Maya had mentioned him before, tossing out bits of gossip about the hockey team’s star player, cocky, untouchable, always surrounded by a crowd of girls. Skye had no interest in people like that. Too loud, too everything she wasn’t.

The morning dragged on, each class blurring into the next until a note arrived from the front office, delivered by a bored-looking junior. Skye’s name was scrawled across the folded paper, and her stomach twisted as she read the summons to Principal Graves’ office. She gathered her things, her mind racing. Had she done something wrong? Forgotten some paperwork for her transfer? The hallway felt longer this time, the walls closing in as she approached the office door, its frosted glass etched with the school’s crest.

Inside, the air was warmer. Principal Graves sat behind her desk, her gray hair pulled into a neat bun, her smile welcoming. “Skye, come in, have a seat,” she said, her voice syrupy with enthusiasm. Skye hesitated, her gaze flickering to the figure slouched in the chair across from the principal.

Knox Callahan. His long legs were stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other, and his arms were folded across his chest. His face was unreadable, but his eyes flicked toward her, sharp and assessing, before returning to the desk. Skye’s stomach lurched. What was he doing here?

She sat stiffly, her backpack resting on her lap. Principal Graves leaned forward, her hands holding over a manila folder. “I have exciting news for both of you,” she began, her smile widening. “This year’s Valentine’s Day fundraiser is one of our biggest events, and we’ve chosen you two to lead it. You’ll be working together to plan and execute the entire project.”

Skye’s breath caught, her fingers tightening around the straps of her backpack. Lead a fundraiser? With him? She glanced at Knox, expecting some reaction. Maybe anger, annoyance, anything but he just sat there, his jaw tight, his cold gaze fixed on the principal and then to her.

“It’s a wonderful opportunity,” Graves continued, oblivious to the tension in the room. “You’ll organize the events, manage the budget, and ensure everything runs smoothly. Skye, your artistic talents will be perfect for the decorations, and Knox, your leadership on the hockey team makes you a natural fit for rallying the school.”

Skye’s mouth went dry, out of words. Artistic talents? She’d barely shown anyone her sketches, let alone volunteered them for a school-wide event.

Although only the principal knew she was very good in drawing. And Knox? He didn’t look like he rallied anything except his own ego. Sky opened her mouth to protest, but Graves slid the folder across the desk before she could speak. “Here’s the contract,” the principal said. “It outlines your responsibilities. Take a look, and if you’re both on board, you can sign today. It’s a decision from the school.”

Skye’s hands shook slightly unnoticed as she opened the folder, the formal document staring up at her like a trap. She could feel Knox’s eyes on her now, steady as if he were sizing her up. His expression was impossible to read, but there was something in his gaze, something that said he already knew she’d regret this.

Her pen hovered over the signature line, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. She didn’t want this, didn’t want him, didn’t want any of it. But the principal’s expectant smile and Knox’s silent challenge left her no room to back out.

The pen trembled in her hand, the blank paper line waiting for her signature.