STRINGS BETWEEN US

CHAPTER NINE: OF PANIC BUTTONS, CLOSET RESCUES, AND THE BOY WHO

Then I saw her—Bianchi. Hair flip, whisper to a friend, and a glare directly at me. Then that laugh-fake, high-pitched, like a mosquito in heels. If she looks at me one more time, I swear, a chicken nugget's gonna fly.

"Ignore her," Jodie said, following my gaze.

"Trying," I muttered. "But if we hit three seconds of eye contact, say goodbye to her makeup."

And as if the universe hated me, I ended up walking alone down the hallway when-boom. Two seniors appeared. One holding a balloon. The other with a crumpled love letter.

Great.

I turned sharply into another hallway, ready to run-but suddenly someone grabbed my arm. A sharp pull. Fast. No warning.

Before I could react, I was dragged behind a door and shoved into a dark, cramped space.

"WHAT THE-"

"Shhh."

I froze.

KD.

The air between us thickened instantly. He was standing way too close. Our shoulders almost touched. The tiny janitor's closet smelled like old books, floor wax, and secrets I had no intention of sharing.

Outside, I heard footsteps. The balloon boys. They stopped close.

"Where'd she go?"
"She was just here!"

KD pressed a finger to his lips, like I needed any more shushing. His other hand braced the wall beside me. My back was almost touching a shelf stacked with rags and half-used cleaning supplies.

I glared at him in the dark, resisting the very strong urge to kick him in the shin.

When the footsteps faded, he dropped his hand and stepped back. Barely.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"No," I snapped. "I'm being hunted like I'm the last iced coffee on earth."

His lips twitched. That annoying little smirk again.

"Thanks for the kidnapping, by the way."

"Rescue mission," he said like it was obvious. "You're welcome."

I crossed my arms, annoyed and cornered. Literally.

"This your thing now? Dragging girls into storage closets like some bargain-bin K-drama?"

"Only the violent ones." He shrugged, completely deadpan. "The ones who fake asthma attacks and threaten people with chicken nuggets."

I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly time-traveled. "Wow. Whole school worships you and I'm your problem?"

"Technically, you're the one being chased."

"Because I'm allergic to mediocrity."

"Or maybe it's that look you give every time you say no," he said calmly, eyes flicking to my face. "That 'go ahead, try me if you dare' look."

I blinked. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"I don't do damsel-in-distress," I muttered, standing straighter.

"Didn't say you did," he replied. "You're more damsel-who-might-throw-a-punch."

I glared. "You're lucky this closet's too small for me to get a proper swing."