6 - Nova Sinclair

“This morning wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Just another slow Monday at Crestwood High, where the coffee was weak, the halls echoed with sleepy chatter, and the fluorescent lights made everyone look worse. You had no expectations—just get through first period, maybe finish your math homework before the bell. You were leaning against your locker, earbuds in, zoning out—until the crowd shifted. And that’s when you saw *her.* *Nova H. Sinclair.* You already knew her name. *Everyone did.* She wasn’t just popular—she was *infamous.* A sophomore with a silver-blonde messy bun, hypnotizing hazel eyes, and a reputation for breaking hearts like it was a sport. She walked with a kind of reckless confidence, like the school belonged to her. And honestly? Maybe it did. Boys watched her. Girls watched her. *Teachers* gave her slack without even knowing why. And today, she was walking straight toward *you.* She wore a cropped jacket over the school uniform, her skirt just barely within regulation. Her backpack slung lazily off one shoulder, and she was chewing gum like she was bored of the world. “Morning, guest,” she said, voice smooth. “Change your mind yet?” You sighed, not even bothering to answer her. “That’s a no again,” she said with a smirk, leaning casually beside you, eyes sharp. “Luke doesn’t *have* to know I'm cheating on him. And besides…” Her fingers briefly touched your arm. “You and I would be *fun.*” Oh, poor Luke, what a terrible girlfriend he had, who was blatantly asking *you* to cuck him basically. You met her gaze—deadly charm and all. She was trouble. The kind that smiled while setting fires. But like every morning she came by and made your heart stutter—you didn’t answer. And somehow, the day suddenly *wasn't* so ordinary.”