WANTED BY THE HOT BULLY

Chapter 1: The Invitation

The final bell at Saint Claire’s Academy rang like a gunshot, and the corridor erupted with chatter, laughter, and the clang of lockers. Kayla Peterson stayed behind at her desk, her pen tracing loops on a half-empty page. She wasn’t really writing—just doodling the same initials over and over.

J. L.

Her cheeks warmed as she circled them with a tiny heart. Jason Lawson. Even the thought of his name sent a nervous flutter through her stomach.

“Still daydreaming?”

The voice jolted her. She looked up quickly to see Jose Alfred dropping into the chair beside her. His tie was half undone, his hair a stubborn mess as usual, his sharp eyes fixed on her notebook.

Kayla slammed it shut, too late.

Jose smirked. “So hearts and initials are part of advanced note-taking now? Must’ve missed that lesson.”

“Jose!” Kayla swatted his arm, her laugh sounding a little too defensive. “You were spying on me.”

“Hard not to when you look like you’re about to marry the page.”

She opened her mouth to snap back, but Jose reached into his blazer pocket and slid something across the desk. A cream-coloured envelope.

Kayla frowned. “What’s this?”

“Exactly what it looks like.” His tone was unreadable.

Her heart tripped when she saw the seal—Jason Lawson’s initials pressed in gold. With trembling fingers, she tore it open.

Inside was a thick, elegant card:

Jason Lawson’s Graduation Party.

Villa Lawson. 9 p.m. Friday. Exclusive invite.

Her breath caught. She whispered, “Oh my gosh… Jose, how did you even get this?”

Jose leaned back, arms folded. “Doesn’t matter.”

Kayla clutched the card to her chest, her pulse hammering. “I can’t believe it. Jason’s party! Do you know what this means?”

“Yeah,” Jose said flatly. “It means trouble. And you shouldn’t go.”

Her smile faltered. “Trouble? It’s just a party.”

“Not just any party. Jason’s.” His voice dropped, sharp with warning. “Last time he threw one, half the school came back with stories they wouldn’t repeat even under threat of detention.”

Kayla hesitated, the card suddenly heavier in her hands. “Maybe they didn’t mean it like that. Maybe it’s just… joking around.”

“Cruelty isn’t a joke.” His eyes hardened. “I overheard his mates this morning. They were laughing about making someone ‘remember this night forever’. Their words, Kay. Not mine.”

She tried to laugh it off, but the sound wavered. “You always think the worst of people.”

“Because I pay attention.” Jose leaned closer, voice low and urgent. “You’re too caught up in your fairy tales to see how ugly people can be.”

Kayla’s cheeks burned. “Jason isn’t ugly. He’s… different.”

“Different?” Jose scoffed. “Because he once held the door open? Because he lent you a pen in year nine?”

Her lips parted. The truth stung, but she had no defence. To her, those crumbs had been everything.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Those things matter. To me, they matter.”

Jose raked a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Kay, listen to yourself. You are building castles out of sand. He doesn’t even know you exist.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then prove it. One real conversation you’ve had with Jason Lawson. Go on. Just one.”

The silence stretched. Her mind scrambled, but all she had were stolen glances across classrooms, the brush of hands when returning a book. Nothing that counted.

Finally, she said softly, “Maybe this is my chance. To change that.”

Jose’s jaw tightened. “Or maybe it’s their chance. To humiliate you.”

The words cut deep. She flinched.

Jose noticed and softened, his hand brushing hers in a rare moment of gentleness. His eyes, dark and steady, searched hers. “If you go, Kay… you might not come back the same.”

Her chest ached at the warning. For a moment, she nearly tore the invitation in half. Nearly.

But then Jason’s face floated into her mind confident smile, eyes that sparkled when he laughed, that effortless way he carried himself. The possibility of being noticed, even just once, was worth the risk.

“I can’t miss it,” she whispered.

Jose’s hand slipped away. He leaned back, frustration etched in his features. “Then I can’t stop you. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The bell for after-school clubs rang, laughter spilling in from the courtyard. Kayla tucked the invitation carefully into her bag as though it were a treasure map.

“You worry too much, Jose,” she said, forcing a light tone.

“And you don’t worry enough,” he muttered.

She stood, adjusting her bag. “See you tomorrow?”

Jose looked at her for a long moment, something unspoken in his eyes. Then he gave a single nod. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

The corridors buzzed as Kayla left, clutching her secret. Just before turning the corner, she glanced across the quad—and froze.

Jason Lawson himself was there, leaning against the bonnet of his sleek black car, surrounded by laughing teammates. The late afternoon sun caught his dark hair, making it gleam. He was beautiful, untouchable.

Kayla’s breath hitched. For a heartbeat, she thought—hoped—his gaze flicked toward her. But then one of the boys slapped his shoulder, and Jason looked away, laughing.

Her heart twisted with equal parts longing and dread.

That evening at home, Kayla retreated to her room. She pulled the invitation out again, tracing the gold letters with her fingertip. In the safety of her four walls, the doubt returned. Jose’s warning echoed: If you go, you might not come back the same.

She bit her lip, then shoved the card deep into the drawer beneath her jumpers. Her mother called from the kitchen, and Kayla forced a bright, steady “Coming!”—as though nothing was out of place.

But all through dinner, her thoughts raced.

Later, lying in bed, her phone buzzed. She smiled instinctively, thinking it might be Jose with another lecture.

It wasn’t.

The message came from an unknown number.

“See you at the party, Kayla. Wear something unforgettable.”

Her fingers trembled as she read it. She hadn’t told anyone she’d received the invite—not even her closest friend.

How did they know?

Her throat tightened as she stared at the screen. A cold prickle crept down her spine.

She set the phone down, pulled the blanket over her head, and tried to convince herself it was a prank. Just a stupid joke.

But in the quiet dark, her heart drummed against her ribs, and Jose’s words whispered again.

If you go, you might not come back the same.