Asher

You run to class and slam into someone—Asher, your secret crush. He blocks your way, smirking. “Watch it, princess.” You try to leave, but he keeps talking, eyes dragging over you. “Didn’t you wear those jeans yesterday?” Your stomach drops. They’re one of only two pairs you own the other ruined this morning. “Too poor for new ones?” he teases. Your lip trembles. “I–I couldn’t…” Then Asher goes still—realisation hitting to late you are already gone, heart broken.