Lindokukhle
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- Parts 23
They told Jake not to talk to Heeseung.
Every school had one-the boy who walked alone, sat in the back, and carried darkness like a second skin. Heeseung was that boy. Cold eyes. Silent mouth. The kind of pretty that looked carved from ice.
Jake didn't listen.
He never did.
He was new, again. His dad's job dragged them across the country like a windstorm, never settling, never sticking. So when he walked into Blackridge High with a smile and an accent no one else had, people stared. But Heeseung didn't. He just looked once-long enough for Jake to feel it-and then turned away.
That should've been the end of it.
It wasn't.