I didn't expect much when Connor Sharpe followed me back.
Just some random notification while hanging out with my best friend.
But one simple "hi" turns into something neither of us saw coming.
A couple of years apart, different grades, and a millio...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It started with a group chat notification at 9:13 AM:
> 🎉 PARTY THIS FRIDAY @ MY PLACE dress up. don’t be boring. – Riley
Riley, of course, being the one girl in our grade who could host a party that felt more like a music video than a house gathering. Lights, speakers, fog machines... probably a disco ball she stole from her older sister's wedding. Classic.
By noon, the entire school was talking about it. Themes were being argued over in the hallways like their GPA depended on it.
But the rule was simple: Dress up as whoever—or whatever—you want.
It was chaos. It was iconic. It was very Riley.
At lunch, Aiden was already hyped. “Connor and I are dressing up as the same character. You won’t be able to tell us apart.”
“Can you at least wear a name tag?” I asked, raising a brow.
Connor smirked across the table. “That’d ruin the fun.”
“You guys are literally asking for drama,” Yumi muttered between bites.
“Oh, we live for it,” Aiden winked.
Jake rolled his eyes. “Please, someone just go as a microwave so I can put my head in it.”
I laughed, sipping my drink. But my mind was still spinning a little from the night before.
From him.
From the kiss.
It wasn’t like we were suddenly a couple. Nothing official was said. But the air between us had changed just slightly. Every glance was heavier. We hadn’t talked about it. Yet.
“Have you picked your costume?” Connor asked suddenly, voice low, only for me to hear.
I looked up at him. He was playing it cool, but his fingers were tapping lightly against the table again.
“I’ve got ideas,” I said, smiling. “You’ll see.”
“Oh?” he leaned in just a little. “Should I be scared?”
“Terrified.”
------------------------
In my room
“I’m just saying. If we show up looking like bunnies and no one dies, what was the point?” Yumi flopped onto my bed dramatically, legs hanging off the edge, a sketchpad balanced on her stomach.
I sat cross-legged beside her, flipping through Pinterest on my phone. “Okay, but do we want to be cute bunnies or murderous bunnies?”
She looked at me like I’d just insulted her bloodline. “Y/N. This is Riley’s party. If I don’t show up looking like I crawled out of a hot Topic crime scene, what are we even doing?”