Rule # 1: Never Kiss The Bad Boy

Prologue

How can a devil look like an angel at the same time? That is him. With a face like an angel, he is worse than any devil I have ever known.

I don’t hate him. I just don’t like his guts. There is a big difference between hate and dislike.

I grew up with him. I know his attitude inside out, though of course he has no idea that I do. Weird, right?

He only knows himself. He is a selfish bastard who can make anyone burst into tears. His words cut deeper than a knife. He is a living nightmare. I am not kidding.

He and his friends are the biggest troublemakers on campus. They play with people’s feelings and never consider the consequences. But the part I cannot understand is why everyone still loves them. They act like they are gods.

Sure, I admit they are ridiculously handsome. But their personalities? Trash. No offense, that is the truth.

Girls chase them around, practically drooling. It is absurd. They are blinded by looks and ignore their terrible personalities. I don’t mind them as long as they stay out of my business.

I usually avoid people like that. I only speak when necessary. I prefer being alone to making friends. I have two loyal childhood friends who understand me perfectly.

I prefer books over makeup and baggy clothes over fashion trends. I am not shy. I just do not like being in crowded places or the center of attention. I am content with my family and friends. That is enough for now.

But everything changed when he finally noticed me. And I have to say… I. Don’t. Really. Like. It.

He ruined my peaceful life. He keeps bugging me. He made me fall in love with him.

And in the end, he broke my heart into a million pieces.

Chapter 01: An Introvert

Jasmine Reign's POV

"Honey! Abigail and Christian are here now!" my mom shouted from downstairs.

Oh great. Day one of the school year. Cue the chaos. And judging by the pitch in her voice, it’s already off to a loud start. This is going to be a long, exhausting, probably regret-filled day.

"Yes, Mom! I’ll be there in a minute!" I yelled back, scrambling to grab my bag from the bed. Somehow, it always ends up under a pile of clothes I meant to fold yesterday. Don’t judge.

I tiptoed—well, as much as an introvert can tiptoe—downstairs. Peeking into the living room, there they were: Aby and Chris, sprawled on the couch like they were royalty surveying their kingdom.

They hadn’t changed a bit. Aby, predictably, had on her usual outfit: a skirt that hovered two inches above her knees and a black crop top that somehow looked casual but chic. She definitely knew how to pull it off. Ugh. Perfect, as always.

Then my gaze wandered to Chris. Sunglasses indoors. Again. Really, Chris? Still rocking that eccentric fashion sense that makes people either stare or scratch their heads in confusion. And yes, for the record, he’s gay—but we still love him anyway. He’s harmless… mostly.

"Hey!" I called out, waving awkwardly.

They turned toward me immediately, like I’d just announced free pizza or something. Then they stood and slowly sauntered over, perfectly synchronized, like some fashion magazine ad had come to life.

Chris locked eyes with me, frowned, and gave me one of those look-at-you-like-you-just-offended-me-in-a-past-life expressions.

"What are you wearing?" he demanded, tone sharp, eyes scanning me like I was a crime scene.

I glanced down at my baggy sweater and jeans and then back at him, confused. "Clothes?" I said cautiously.

"You mean that style again? Seriously, girl, it’s our second year in college. Your look hasn’t changed since freshman year. It’s time for an upgrade."

Excuse me? I feel perfectly comfortable. Comfy = happy. Comfort > fashion. I shook my head.

"No, Christian, I prefer baggy clothes over those skinny, dumpy… whatever those are. And seriously, what’s wrong with this outfit?" I asked, pointing at myself like I was presenting evidence in court.

He rolled his eyes, dramatic as ever.

"It’s Christine, not Christian. You’re messing around again, Reign."

I laughed. Of course, he’d forget our last argument and decide to focus on his name instead. Classic Chris.

Seriously, he hates being called Christian. Weird flex, but okay.

"And your style is the absolute worst. You won’t find a guy looking like that," he added, smirking like it was the most tragic fact in the universe.

Hold on. "Excuse me? I am not looking for a guy. Not until I graduate and have a decent job, thank you very much," I replied, crossing my arms.

"Yeah, whatever, bitch," he said, clearly enjoying himself.

"Haha, guys, stop. We’re going to be late," Abigail interjected, stepping between us like the world’s most cheerful referee.

We turned to her. She was grinning from ear to ear, radiating confidence and energy. Extrovert level: off the charts. Friendly, outgoing, sunshine wrapped in human form. Honestly, why are we friends again?

Chris is a model. Not joking. Tall, rich, perfect jawline—the whole package. If he weren’t gay, I might’ve considered asking him out once. But, nope, he’s more girly than me anyway, so problem solved.

Abigail, on the other hand… I already said she’s an extrovert. She loves parties, loves talking, loves… everything, really. She’s charming, rich, always smiling, and somehow manages to make everyone like her instantly.

Me? I’m an introvert. Books > parties. Always. Social events? Pass.

We’re middle class. Not poor, not rich. Dad’s a surgeon. Mom owns a cute coffee shop near campus. Perfectly normal life.

I’m an only child, though there’s a battalion of cousins on my dad’s side. They live abroad, so no, I don’t hang out with them. Small blessing there.

"So, shall we leave now?" Abigail asked again, bouncing lightly on her heels.

I nodded. Chris did the same, reluctantly, like I could see the internal debate in his eyes: Do I protest fashion advice, or do I live to drive another day?

"Alright then, Aunty! We’ll head out now!" Aby waved goodbye to Mom, who was also preparing to leave. She was heading to the coffee shop. Me, Aby, and Chris worked there too when free time allowed.

"Need a ride, kids?" Mom asked.

"No, Mom, thanks. We’ll take Christine’s car," I said, smirking at him.

His grin stretched ridiculously wide. He mouthed silently, “That’s right, bitch. Call me Christine.”

I chuckled. Mission accomplished.

"Oh, okay then," Mom said, leaning in to kiss my forehead. "Stay safe and take care of yourselves."

We all nodded.

"Bye, Mom."

"Bye, Aunty."

"Bye, Aunty Beauty."

Her name is Beauty. Totally suits her. Even with a few wrinkles, she’s stunning. I wish I could be half as effortlessly gorgeous. Mom always reassures me I’m beautiful whenever I complain about my looks. Sweet, right?

We headed outside and climbed into Chris’s car. New car alert: last year it was a McLaren, now a Ferrari? How? Just how?

"You got a new car again?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

"Obviously. Mom got it for me after I won an award at a fashion show last month," he said, starting the engine.

"Congrats, Chris," I said genuinely. He smiled and mouthed a thanks.

"Anyway, Aby, bitch! Hawaii this summer, yeah? Spill the tea," Chris demanded, looking way too excited.

Wow. The beaches must have been amazing. Relaxing, sunny, all that touristy bliss.

"I can! Haha. Two and a half weeks. Got back last week. Best vacation ever. Actually, I met this guy… super hot, super handsome."

I stared. She was smiling, but something was off. Pain? Hatred? Confusion? Definitely something deeper than just beach memories.

"Oh my god! Keep going!" Chris practically bounced.

"Eyes on the road, Chris," she shot back, and he immediately looked forward like a well-trained puppy.

"Okay, so… we dated. But don’t get me wrong, my weakness is tall, hot, handsome guys," she said, laughing half-heartedly. Typical Aby. Handsome dudes = soft spot.

"So what happened next?" Chris asked, and I leaned back in my seat, taking mental notes.

"He was always with me, made me laugh, did all the cute little things. But…" She stopped, hesitating.

"But?" I prompted, curiosity burning.

"But he dumped me. Left. Just… left. No warning. Nothing. I know we weren’t officially together, but it still stings. Nothing lasts forever, though. I’ll move on. And trust me, the next guy? Hotter, handsomer, better personality. Won’t ever leave me," she said, voice strong but with a tiny quiver.

Wow. Did she just fall in love that fast? Hawaii magic or what? Impressive. Who could this mystery guy possibly be?

"Aw, don’t worry, bitch. We’re here for you," Chris said, theatrically draping an arm over her shoulder. She laughed.

"I’m fine, just a little hurt. Should’ve dumped him myself, but nope, he did. Haha. Never seeing him again," she said firmly.

"Hurt your ego, huh? Maybe next time, return the favor. Anyway… his name?"

Ooh, mystery time.

"Hunter Hales. Don’t even know if that’s his real name."

Hunter. Cool. Simple. Punchy.

"What if we G****e him?" Chris suggested.

"Already did. Nothing. Nada. So probably lied," she replied, eyes rolling.

Crazy. I am staying far away from that drama. My life is fine as it is.

"We’re here, people!" Chris announced, spinning the wheel into the campus lot.

Finally. University. Where survival of the fittest social skills begins… and where my introverted life is about to get very interesting.