Falling into her

Chapter 1 : Opposites Collide

Brook High was alive.

It was the kind of morning where everything hummed with energy—hallways packed with students exchanging hurried greetings, teachers shouting reminders over the noise, and the unmistakable clang of lockers being slammed shut. Papers fluttered, sneakers squeaked against the polished tile floors, and the distinct scent of marker ink mixed with cafeteria coffee permeated the air. To most, it was overwhelming. To Seraphina "Sera" Cole, it was home.

Sera wove through the crowd like a pro, balancing a thick stack of flyers in her arms while offering bright smiles and waves to nearly everyone she passed. Her light pink hair, a striking contrast to her light brown roots, wasn't just a fashion statement—it was a signature. She didn't just exist at Brook High; she thrived. Her hair wasn't the only thing that made her stand out, though. It was her presence: the confidence she carried, the warmth she exuded. Everyone knew her, and not just because she was popular. She was genuine.

"Hey, Sera!"

She turned, spotting a group of freshmen gathered near the water fountain. They looked nervous, like they weren't sure if they should've called her over.

"Morning, guys!" she greeted, her voice bright. "Don't forget to sign up for the charity bake sale after school! We need all the help we can get."

The group nodded eagerly, their smiles widening. "We'll be there!"

"Perfect!" She gave them a little thumbs-up before continuing down the hallway. Her French tip aurora nails—medium-length acrylics with a subtle shimmer—glinted in the overhead lights as she waved to a few more students.

It was moments like these that made Sera love being a part of Brook High's student council. She wasn't just organizing events; she was creating connections, making people feel like they belonged.

She glanced at her watch and winced. The student council meeting was in less than five minutes, and she still had half the flyers to distribute. Pushing her pace, she maneuvered through the throng of students, sidestepping conversations and groups lingering near their lockers.

Then it happened.

She rounded the corner a little too quickly, not looking where she was going. Before she could react, she collided head-on with someone—a solid wall of muscle that sent her stumbling back. Flyers exploded from her hands, scattering in every direction like fallen leaves.

"Oh no!" Sera gasped, immediately dropping to her knees to gather them. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention—"

The low, gravelly voice that interrupted her made her pause. "Clearly."

Her eyes snapped up, and her heart sank. Towering over her, arms crossed and wearing his signature leather jacket, was none other than Dean Andrews.

Dean Andrews was the name that came up when people whispered about trouble. The fights behind the gym, the suspension rumors, the dark eyes that could silence an entire classroom—Dean was the school's walking danger sign. He was tall, with a rough edge to him that seemed permanently etched into his features. His dark hair was carelessly tousled, and his expression was a mixture of annoyance and boredom.

Sera blinked, momentarily stunned. "You—uh..." She took a deep breath. "Dean Andrews, right?"

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Looks like someone's got a good memory." His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it, like he was daring her to say more.

She frowned, gathering the last of the flyers. "I know everyone."

"Of course, you do," he said, crouching down to pick up one of the flyers. His fingers brushed the corner of the paper, his eyes scanning the words. "'Charity event for the community center,'" he read aloud, then handed it to her. "Let me guess—you're the one organizing it?"

"Yes," she replied, standing up and taking the flyer from him. "Not that it's any of your business."

Dean stood as well, towering over her. "You're right. It's not." He took a step back, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "But you're making it hard to ignore with all this." He gestured to the flyers in her arms.

Sera narrowed her eyes. "I'm trying to make a difference. Maybe you should try it sometime."

His smirk widened. "That's cute, princess."

Her cheeks flushed. "I'm not a princess."

Dean shrugged, completely unfazed. "Could've fooled me." With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her standing there, fuming.

"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath. She clutched the flyers tightly, resisting the urge to throw one after him. Who did he think he was?

Despite her frustration, her heart thudded in her chest. Dean Andrews was everything she wasn't: unpredictable, detached, and more than a little dangerous. He wasn't someone she ever thought she'd cross paths with, let alone exchange words with. Yet here she was, still standing in the middle of the hallway, replaying the encounter.

Shaking her head, she forced herself to focus. The student council meeting wasn't going to wait, and Dean Andrews was not going to take up any more space in her mind.

LATER THAT NIGHT
By the time Sera got home, the events of the day had settled into a dull hum in the back of her mind. She dropped her bag by the door and headed into the kitchen, where her older sister, Elena, was chopping vegetables for dinner.

"Hey, you're home early," Elena said without looking up.

"Yeah, the meeting didn't run as long as I thought," Sera replied, grabbing a glass of water. She hesitated for a moment before blurting, "You'll never guess who I ran into today."

Elena glanced up, curious. "Who?"

"Dean Andrews."

Elena's knife paused mid-chop. "Dean?"

Sera nodded, crossing her arms. "Yeah. And he was... well, exactly how you'd expect. Rude, cocky, and completely impossible."

To Sera's surprise, Elena smiled. "That sounds like Dean."

Sera's brow furrowed. "Wait—how do you know him?"

Elena shrugged, returning to her chopping. "He's a friend."

Sera stared, incredulous. "You're friends with Dean Andrews?"

"Yeah. He's not what people think," Elena said, her tone casual. "He's complicated, sure, but there's more to him than what you see at school."

Sera shook her head. "He called me 'princess' like it was an insult."

Elena chuckled. "He does that. Don't take it personally. He just likes pushing buttons."

Sera wasn't convinced. Something about Dean felt off, and she wasn't sure she wanted to find out why.