Chapter 5

Majority of the seats were occupied, leaving me to settle into the nearest empty one. Almost immediately, I sensed eyes on me, accompanied by hushed whispers circulating throughout the room.

"Is she crazy? Why is she sitting in his seat?" a girl muttered.

"Someone hurry, get the new girl before she pisses him off," another person whispered.

It seemed everyone was doing a poor job at keeping their voices down. I couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious "he" they were referring to. Unaware of any assigned seats, I decided to relocate to the unoccupied seat next to me, especially since everyone appeared strangely concerned.

In a scene reminiscent of a teen drama, the atmosphere shifted as I rose from my seat. The door swung open, revealing a face both familiar and unfamiliar—the same guy from the picture in Principal Greene's office.

Dressed in a snug grey T-shirt and dark denim jeans, he moved with a confidence that demanded attention. His arrival echoed like a silent proclamation, and as his eyes swept across the room, it seemed as though he possessed the ability to draw the very air from its confines. An undeniable magnetism radiated from him, holding everyone's gaze. Uncertain whether it was my imagination or the surge of teenage hormones, my entire body tingled as his gaze locked onto mine.

Approaching without breaking the intense eye contact, he spoke in a deep, velvety voice, "Princess, you're in my seat." His hazel eyes, the most beautiful I had ever seen, held a captivating allure.

I glanced down, realizing I was so busy checking him out, I hadn't moved to another seat like I planned to. Blood rushed to my cheeks. "Sorry, I didn't realize this was your seat. I was just getting up to move," I mumbled.

He smiled, his captivating smile making my heart skip a beat. "No, it's okay, you can sit there," he replied, casually taking the seat next to me. His eyes lingered on me, and his gaze carried an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine, making my body feel hot and sweaty.

Seriously, what was up with this guy? And why was I so flustered around him?

Suddenly, the teacher rushed in as the late bell rang, a tall and lean man with ivory skin. "Good morning, class. I hope everyone had a good weekend. Today will be simple. We'll be starting the next play on our curriculum, Sophocles' Oedipus Rex. Read Act one, and then the rest of class time will be yours." As he settled at his desk, burying his face in his arms, I couldn't help but assume that he must have had a very good weekend himself. Hey, at least he didn't make me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I would've died from embarrassment.

Great, I thought. I've already read the book at my last school. It was the one where the son murdered his dad and slept with his mom or something like that. I decided to refresh my memory with some online notes.

I tried to focus on studying, but I could still feel the hot, popular guy's heated gaze on me. After a few awkward minutes of silence, I cleared my throat and met his persistent stare. He showed no signs of looking away, evidently unconcerned about appearing like a complete creep. "Um, hi, can I help you with something?" I asked, irritation seeping in my tone.

His lips curled into a playful smirk, revealing deep dimples that seemed to carve into his cheeks like craters. "Nope, I'm just admiring the beauty in front of me," he said, his hazel eyes locking onto mine with a magnetic intensity. "What's your name, princess?"

There goes that nickname again. Princess. It sent a shiver down my spine, and my entire body seemed to catch fire. "Angelique," I managed to respond in a hushed tone, uncertain if he caught my name amid the chaotic beating of my heart.

"Angelique," he purred, his voice a sensuous melody, "a perfect name for someone as enchantingly beautiful as you are."

My name rolled off his tongue like velvet, each syllable caressing the air. Holy shit, was it hot in here, or was it just me?

"Uh, thanks. What's yours?" I inquired, capturing my bottom lip between my teeth. His gaze fixated on the subtle movement, and he moistened his lips with a slow, deliberate flick of his tongue, sending heat straight to my core.

"Dante Greene. I'm surprised you haven't heard about me," he said, his eyes dancing with amusement, as if he could sense the effect he had on me.

Could you imagine? I would literally die right now if he knew why I kept shifting in my seat. Gushes of heat were currently pooling in my underwear like a relentless waterfall, and the more he spoke and stared at me like a predator locked on its prey, the more intense it got.

Ugh, teenage hormones. No one has ever made me feel this way; I don't know what the hell has gotten into me!