Alyssa's PoV:

Mason pulled me toward the dance floor, catching me completely off guard. This wasn't the Mason I knew—he wasn't the type to dance, let alone in public.

"You really have a habit of grabbing my hand and dragging me around like I'm your dog," I said, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't pull a dog by its hand, Alyssa. That's not how it works," he replied casually, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"Then what do you pull? Because this is becoming a pattern."

"Hmm... I'd probably pull my girlfriend," he teased, his voice low and smooth, his eyes dancing with mischief.

My face flushed instantly, and I hated that he could do this to me so effortlessly. "You're seriously so annoying," I muttered, trying to cover my reaction.

"Thank you," he said with an infuriating grin.

"Oh, there you guys are!" Nate appeared out of nowhere, interrupting whatever game Mason was playing. "Have you seen Amy?"

We both shook our heads.

"She said she was going to meet some mystery guy," Nate explained, looking concerned. "I was supposed to follow her, but Jaden decided to pull me onto the floor instead."

"You don't know where she went?" I asked, worry creeping into my voice.

"Not a clue."

"I'll help you look. Let's go." I stepped away from the dance floor, Nate leading the way. But as I glanced over my shoulder, I noticed a familiar figure trailing us—a tall, smug guy in a sharp black tuxedo.

"What are you doing?" I asked, stopping to confront Mason.

"I'm helping," he said simply, his tone as nonchalant as ever.

"Well, thank you, Mason. Caring, hot, and a genius. You never stop impressing me," Nate chimed in, earning a satisfied smirk from Mason and a roll of my eyes.

We reached our table, but Amy was nowhere to be found.

"She's not here," I said, scanning the area.

"Aiden's over there," Mason pointed toward the drinks table, where Aiden and Emily stood talking.

As we approached them, I couldn't help but notice Emily's expression—tight-lipped and seething. It didn't take a genius to guess who had upset her.

"Hey, guys," Nate started. "Did you see where Amy went?"

"She went through that door," Aiden said, pointing toward the far end of the room.

"What's going on?" Emily asked, her tone sharp.

"She's meeting some guy," Nate explained.

"Oh, hell no. I'm coming," Emily declared, downing the rest of her drink in one go. Aiden sighed but followed her, and with Emily's insistence, my brother decided to join us too.

We reached the door, which opened to a long hallway—a confusing labyrinth that could lead anywhere.

"Let's split up," Mason suggested.

"Emily and I will go left," Aiden declared, her voice still carrying a trace of anger. "Mason and Alyssa, you two take the right."

"And I get the front, alone, as always" Nate muttered, clearly unimpressed.

We all split off, and soon I was walking through the eerily quiet hallways with Mason at my side. While I strained to hear Amy's voice, Mason was entirely unbothered, casually playing some block game on his phone, the tinny sound effects grating on my nerves.

"Can you turn that off?" I asked, irritation creeping into my tone.

"I'm almost at the next level," he replied without looking up.

"Are you doing this just to annoy me?"

"Is it working?" he asked, finally glancing at me with a smirk.

"Yes. Congratulations, mission accomplished."

Satisfied, he pocketed his phone. "You know, you're cute when you're mad."

"You really, really piss me off."

"Uh-huh. You like —like, a lot," he teased, peering into a classroom as we passed.

"I never said that."

"You never not said it either."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"You didn't deny it, so I'll consider it true." He grinned. "I wonder how your brother would feel if he knew his 'beloved sister' liked his best friend. Maybe betrayed?"

"You're pushing it, Mason," I warned, shooting him a glare.

"I'm just having fun," he shrugged.

"You're pissing me off."

"See? To me, that equals fun."

"I hate you."

"You hate me so much you can't stop thinking about me," he countered, but his voice trailed off suddenly.

I stopped and turned to him. "What's wrong?"

Mason held up a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. Then I heard it—a faint, muffled scream in the distance. My stomach dropped.

"It's her," I whispered. "We need to move, fast."

"Quietly," Mason instructed. "If they hear us, they might run."

I nodded, and we crept toward the sound, each step making my heart pound harder. It led us to a door—the principal's office. My imagination spiraled as I pictured Amy hurt or in danger.

"When I count to three," Mason whispered.

I nodded, steeling myself.

"One... two... three!"

We burst through the door, ready to confront whoever was behind it. But what we saw stopped us in our tracks.

The principal stood there, his pants around his ankles. Across the desk, Mrs. Linda, the drama teacher, was perched on the edge, her skirt hiked up.

"Holy—"

"Shit," Mason finished for me, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What the—who are you?" the principal stammered, his face as red as a tomato. "This is not what it looks like!"

"It's exactly what it looks like, Robert!" Mrs. Linda snapped, scrambling to fix her skirt.

"That's... not Amy," Mason muttered dryly.

"No kidding, Sherlock!" I hissed, grabbing his arm.

"Find out who they are and punish them!" Mrs. Linda shouted.

"Let's go!" I said holding his hand

"That really is a good position" Mason mumbled standing there looking at our teachers

"Come on" I tuggled Mason toward the hall, breaking into a sprint.

"You little bastards! WHO ARE YOU?!" the principal roared from behind us.

Mason laughed, keeping pace with me. "That... was a good position, though."

I shot him a glare. "Shut up and run!"

We ran as fast as we could, darting through the dimly lit halls, our footsteps echoing loudly against the polished floors. I could hear the principal's angry shouts growing louder behind us. Somehow, despite his age and questionable athleticism, he was alarmingly close to catching us.

"WHAT ARE YOUR NAMES?!" his voice thundered, frustration lacing every word.

I held tightly onto Mason's hand, pulling him along, but suddenly, he rushed forward, taking the lead and now pulling me. His grip was firm and unwavering, and I felt a rush of heat crawl up my arm at the contact.

He veered sharply toward a large wooden door—the library. Without a word, he yanked it open and pulled me inside, the heavy door creaking ominously as it closed behind us.

The library was vast, its towering bookshelves stretching into the shadows. Mason led us deeper into the maze of shelves, his steps quick and deliberate until we found a secluded spot nestled between two rows of books.

We stopped abruptly, and I felt the warmth of his hand leave mine. I immediately missed it, though I wasn't about to admit that.

"I think he's close," Mason whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Really?" I whispered back, trying to keep my breathing steady.

But before I could say another word, Mason turned and covered my mouth with his hand, pressing me gently yet firmly against the bookshelf. My back hit the cool wood as he leaned in close, his body shielding mine. He peeked through a gap in the books, keeping an eye on the principal.

"Where are you, you little rascals? You ruined my night!" the principal's voice boomed, somewhere near the entrance.

I glanced up at Mason, and my breath hitched. He was grinning—an amused, devil-may-care smile that lit up his face even in the dim light. My heart thudded erratically in my chest, and I tried to tell myself it was from the chase. But the proximity—the warmth radiating from him, the curve of his lips, the way his eyes glinted with mischief—was messing with my head.

I was painfully aware of how close we were. His scent—earthy with a hint of something woodsy—surrounded me, making my thoughts spiral. I tried to steady my heartbeat, but my body refused to cooperate.

"Where are you?" the principal barked again, his voice growing fainter as he moved farther into the library.

A sudden noise outside—a loud bang, maybe from a closing door—drew the principal's attention. "Ah, gotcha now!" he muttered, the sound of his footsteps fading as he followed the distraction.

Mason lowered his hand from my mouth but let it linger near my neck, his fingertips grazing my skin.

"He's gone," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was then I realized just how close he still was. The soft light filtering in from the hallway illuminated his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the dark lashes framing his eyes. His gaze met mine, and for a moment, neither of us moved.

I couldn't look away from his eyes—deep brown, rich like melted chocolate, and impossibly bright even in the shadows. They sparkled in a way that made me wonder if anyone else had ever noticed, or if that light was meant just for me.

His gaze flickered to my lips, and I felt my breath hitch again. The hand that had covered my mouth slid to the back of my neck, his touch both gentle and possessive as if he were afraid I might disappear.

The chill of his fingers sent a shiver down my spine, and without thinking, I licked my lips nervously.

A smirk tugged at his mouth, his expression shifting to something darker, more intense. "You know you can't do that," he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending my pulse into overdrive.

"Why?" I whispered, my voice barely audible, though I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.

"Because I can't control myself when you do," he said, the words hanging heavy in the air between us.

My chest tightened, and I bit my bottom lip—a nervous habit I couldn't seem to break, especially under his gaze. His smirk deepened, and before I could react, he closed the gap between us.

His lips brushed against mine, soft yet urgent as if he'd been holding back for far too long. His other hand found my hip, pulling me closer to him as if he were afraid I'd slip away.

For a fleeting moment, the world around us disappeared. It was just him—his warmth, his touch, his lips moving against mine—and the storm of emotions I couldn't seem to control.

And then reality snapped back, loud and jarring, as a distant voice called out from the hall.

"Mason? Alyssa? Where are you?"

We broke apart instantly, both of us breathing hard, and I felt the loss of his warmth like a cold slap.

He looked at the hall carefully watching who it was "It's Aiden" he muttered, his voice rough as he stepped back, running a hand through his hair.

I nodded, trying to steady myself, but my thoughts were a whirlwind but there was no time to think about that, we left the library not having a word about what happened and facing Aiden and Emily.

"What happened?" Aiden questioned "What were you doing there?"

"Trying to hide from the principal"

"Yeah he saw me and just rambled about some kids spying on him, I guess I know who the kids were now" My brother mentioned making a small smile appear in my face

"Don't smile, Mr. Henderson doesn't play around he could have put you both under serious trouble"

"Don't worry he will forget it" Mason mentioned

"What about Amy have you found her?"

"No, we didn't" Aiden said

"But Nate did" Emily pointed to the end of the hall makings us all look and there it was Nate walking towards us a bit angry followed by Amy and... James?

"James? The quarterback?" Aiden spoke

"Well what a couple" Mason responded

"I never heard good things about him" I spoke

"Well at least it isn't ugly otherwise she would freak out" Emily mentioned making me hum in agreement

"Finally you are here! Let's go away!" Nate responded

"So it's all good?! I questioned

"Better than good if I didn't come in they would fuck without a condom" Nate said making us giggle but we quickly stopped looking at his angry face

"She is out of her mind, don't laugh about it!" Nate said walking through the hall. We looked to our backs and there was Amy totally smitten with her quarterback, James wasn't ugly that's true but he wasn't the best guy around. I remember my brother fighting him a couple of times because he wanted to be the captain and since his wishes weren't coming true he would refuse to play.

Let's hope this turns out well

"See you guys, I found him, and he loves me not like Wellington said" Amy spoke, I saw that Welligton's words were still haunting her, and I hoped that James was good for her.