chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Sixty-Second Sentence

POV: Chloe

"One minute, Chloe. One kiss with the Ghost, or the keys stay in the fire."

I looked at Sarah, then at the flickering orange flames of the bonfire. My hand hovered over the heat, my fingers twitching for the leather keychain she was dangling just out of reach. "It’s a disgusting bet, Sarah."

"It’s a social service," Jax laughed, leaning back against his truck with a beer. "Someone needs to remind Elias Vance that he actually exists. Give the scholarship nerd a story to tell his grandkids."

I turned my head toward the shadows. Sitting on a rotting log near the edge of the woods was Elias. He had a textbook open on his lap, the glow of the fire reflecting off his thick glasses. He was wearing that same charcoal hoodie—the one with the frayed strings and the faint smell of old library books. He was the definition of 'low-class.'

"One minute," I whispered. "Then I get my car back and we never mention this again."

I walked toward him, the grass catching at my expensive heels. With every step, the music from the party faded, replaced by the crackle of dry leaves. I stopped three feet away, my shadow falling over his page.

"Elias."

He didn't look up. "The library is closed, Chloe. Unless you’re looking for the 'Idiots Guide to Popularity,' I can’t help you."

"Look at me when I’m talking to you."

He finally lifted his head. His eyes were startlingly clear behind those lenses—and entirely unimpressed. "I heard the bet. Sound travels over water, Princess. Or did you think your friends were being subtle?"

I flinched. The disgust I felt wasn't just for him; it was for the fact that he caught me being a puppet. "If you heard it, then you know how this goes. Stand up."

"No."

"No?" I stepped closer, the scent of my designer perfume clashing with the smell of woodsmoke. "Do you have any idea who you’re talking to? I’m trying to make this easy for you."

"You’re trying to use me to keep your Porsche," Elias said, closing his book with a soft thud. He stood up, and I realized for the first time that he was much taller than he looked when he was hunched over a desk. "Why should I help you? What’s in it for me?"

"Aside from the fact that it'll be the best sixty seconds of your pathetic life? Nothing." I reached out, my fingers trembling as I grabbed the rough fabric of his hoodie. "Just shut up and let me get this over with."

"You look like you're about to vomit," he whispered, his voice dropping to a dangerous vibration. "Is the Ice Queen actually scared of a nerd?"

"I’m disgusted, Elias. There’s a difference."

"Then show me," he challenged. "Show me how much you hate it."

I didn't wait. I yanked him down and pressed my mouth to his.

It was supposed to be a chore. A cold, mechanical necessity. But the moment our lips touched, the world shattered. He didn't pull away. Instead, his hand came up, fingers locking into the hair at the base of my neck, tilting my head back.

"Time's up, Chloe," he murmured against my lips, but he didn't let go.

"I know," I gasped, my lungs burning.

"So why are you still holding on?"

POV: Elias

I could feel the cameras. I knew Sarah was ten yards back, her phone held high, recording my humiliation for the group chat.

But Chloe Montgomery was shaking.

The girl who spent three years looking through me like I was made of glass was currently clutching my hoodie like it was a life raft. Her lips were soft, tasting of expensive gloss and the frantic edge of panic.

"Is that it?" I asked, pulling back just an inch. Her eyes were wide, dark, and utterly lost. "Did you win your car back, Princess?"

"Shut up," she hissed, though she didn't move her hand from my chest. "They're still watching."

"Let them watch. Tell me, does the disgust feel the way you thought it would?"

"It’s worse," she lied. Her pulse was thrumming against my thumb where it rested on her jaw.

"Then why aren't you running back to the light?" I stepped into her space, forcing her back toward the shadows. The bonfire was just a distant orange glow now. "The dare is over. Go tell them how gross I was. Go laugh."

She didn't move. Her breath was coming in short, jagged hitches. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because if I go back there now, they’ll see my face," she whispered. "They’ll see that I wasn't acting."

A sharp surge of triumph hit me. The Ghost had finally caught the Queen. "So what now? You stay here in the dirt with me?"

"No one can know, Elias. Ever."

"Know what? That the girl who has everything wants the boy who has nothing?"

"I don't want you!" She looked like she wanted to slap me, but her eyes were anchored to mine. "I hate you. I hate that you're looking at me like this."

"Good," I said, reaching down to lace my fingers with hers. Her skin was ice cold, but mine was burning. "Hate is a great motivator. It's almost as strong as what's actually happening right now."

"And what is that?"

"Obsession."

I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear. "There's a car parked behind the equipment shed. No cameras. No Sarah. No Jax. Just a dark corner and a 'disaster' waiting to happen."

Chloe looked toward the party, then back at me. The disgust was still there, flickering in her eyes, but it was being drowned out by a hunger so raw it made her look human for the first time in years.

"If you ever speak of this," she threatened, her voice breaking.

"I won't have to," I replied, pulling her toward the tree line. "You'll be the one coming back for more."

We reached the shadows behind the shed. I opened the door to my rusted-out sedan, a stark contrast to the Porsches in the school lot.

"Get in," I said.

Chloe looked at the stained seats, then at me. She climbed in without a word.

As I closed the door behind us, the reality of what we were doing hit. This wasn't a dare anymore. This was a car crash in slow motion.

"Elias?" she whispered in the dark of the backseat.

"Yeah?"

"I still hate you."

"I know," I said, leaning over her, my hands finding the waist of her expensive silk dress. "Count to sixty, Chloe. Let's see if you can survive the second round."

I moved to kiss her again, but the sound of a twig snapping outside the car made us both freeze.

A heavy shadow passes the car window, followed by the muffled sound of a laugh that sounds exactly like Jax.