⸻ AT FIRST GLANCE novel written by darlingshay "he was the first boy i ever loved. and the first one to ruin me." ─────────────── Aria Bennett spent years convincing herself she was over Grayson Hale. The football captain. The boy who let the whispers spread. The almost-love she never truly escaped. But when fate throws them onto the same college campus three years later, avoiding each other becomes impossible. Especially when Grayson looks at her like he never stopped loving her in the first place. Now buried secrets, old tension, and unfinished feelings begin pulling them back together - even when they swore they hated each other. And the worst part? He remembers everything. ─────────────── ✧ enemies to lovers ✧ college romance ✧ ex situationship ✧ he never forgot her ✧ tension & jealousy ✧ found each other again ⸻

Delancey Grey has never considered herself extraordinary. Despite her beauty, she's always blended quietly into the world, collecting crushes but never real love. That all changes the night of a junior-year party, when she meets Gage Ryan the wealthy, reckless golden boy who seems completely out of her reach. A year later, Delancey walks into a new version of herself, and suddenly the boy who never noticed her... can't look away. By senior year, what grows between them is more than a crush, more than a fling... but one choice, one secret, one moment, shatters everything. Their almost-love twists into miscommunication, unfinished feelings, and a tension neither can escape. Some love stories aren't about perfect timing. Some love stories linger. And some follow you for years, refusing to be forgotten.

"𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐖𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚-𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐡é𝐫è𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐀 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠" OC x Johnny Kavanagh Eleanor Cartier has everything-or at least that's what the world thinks. Perfect grades, the spotlight of Ireland's elite, and a life of luxury. But behind closed doors, her family's cruelty leaves her searching for escape. Johnny Kavanagh, Ireland's golden boy and rugby prodigy, was her escape. when friendship turns into something more, neither can ignore the pull between them. A year later, secrets, jealousy, and unspoken feelings threaten to unravel.

Completed • First Draft - not edited. || "You gonna sit there all night?" Luka glances at me, smirking. I glare back. "I was enjoying the last few seconds of peace before having to spend an evening pretending to like you." "That's funny," he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Why?" I snap. "Because I was thinking the same thing." || The rules? Easy enough. 1. Pretend to be the perfect couple. 2. Keep it professional. 3. And whatever you do, don't. catch. feelings. Simple, right? Sofia Calloway never planned on going viral for throwing a drink in Luka Mikhaylov's face. But one video, one pissed-off hockey star, and one furious university later... she's suddenly stuck in a fake relationship with the guy she can't stand. He needs to clean up his image before the NHL draft. She needs the free tuition that comes with the deal. All they have to do is smile for the cameras, hold hands at the games, and act like they don't want to strangle each other. Then come the late-night arguments that last too long. The stolen glances that feel too dangerous. The moment where "pretend" starts looking way too real. Because when you break the rules, someone's bound to lose. And this time, it might be both of them.

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 The cheeky lad at Tommen, Finnian "Finn" Gibson, a replica of his father-looks and personality wise. Even if he isn't the smartest, he's always known one thing... Caoimhe Kavanagh was meant to be with him, they were written in the stars. His built-in bestfriend, family friend, love of his life... they were inseparable. Nothing could keep them away from eachother. But when their relationship changes, will they find their way back to eachother? Or will their love lose itself in the riptides?

Brendan Clearly. He was the lad I liked since I was barely out of pigtails, the one who never slagged me off when the rest of the boys thought it was gas. He was different. Always smiling, always asking me if I'd eaten, like some little mammy trapped in a seventeen-year-old fella's body. It sounds stupid, but those tiny things kept me going. And then I went and wrecked it. Not just with him-no, I managed to shatter it with all of them. My friends, the ones who made the halls feel less lonely, the ones who kept me tethered here when the world felt too heavy. Gone. Because of me. Just a mistake, that's all it was, but a mistake that cost me everything. And now when I see him across the yard, laughing with the others, it's like a knife. He doesn't even look my way. And I deserve that, don't I? *** Caoimhe Kavanagh. Once upon a time she was my best mate. The kind of girl you'd sit on a wall with for hours, talking about nothing and everything. She was soft, kind, never the type to go looking for trouble. But now? I hardly recognise her. She's gone cold, sharp, always hanging 'round with that crowd-the type of people you know are only bad news. Ciggies tucked in their sleeves, mouths full of poison. And she's right there in the middle of it, like she belongs to them now. Part of me wants to write her off, tell myself she's not the Caoimhe I knew. That girl's dead and gone. But... I can't. I remember too much. The way she used to laugh, the way she'd defend you even when you were being a gobshite, the way she cared more than she ever let on. That's still inside her, I swear it is. I don't care how hard she tries to hide behind the mask she's wearing now-I know my friend is in there somewhere. And I'll drag her back if I have to. Because she's worth it.

Conor Kavanagh. The heartthrob of Tommen College. The biggest playboy in the school - cocky smirk, rugby jersey practically sewn onto him, always with a smart comment and that maddening wink. He's friendly, charming, flirty as hell. The kind of lad who'd carry your bag for you and somehow make it seem like your idea. But don't let that fool you - he's trouble. All sharp jawlines and swagger. And somehow, he's decided I'm his next bloody charity case. I hate it. I hate how he shows up when I don't ask, how he looks at me like I'm breakable. I don't need saving - I've got it sorted. The drink, the pills, the temper - all of it. My mess, not his. And every time I tell him to back off, to leave me be, he just gets closer, like I'm speaking in code. I don't need his pity or his perfect face. I don't need him. So why does part of me keep hoping he'll show up again tomorrow? *** Sinead Biggs. The reigning queen of Tommen. Sharp-tongued, sharp-eyed, and terrifying in heels. Everyone thinks she's just Cath's little sister - until she opens her gob and makes half the school cry before lunch. She walks those halls like she owns them, and honestly? She kind of does. The lads are scared of her. The girls want to be her. And me? I'm hopelessly, pathetically into her. Everyone knows it. My mates won't shut up about it. Even when she's tearing strips off me with that mouth of hers, I'm there grinning like a gobshite. Because deep down, I remember. I remember when we used to be best friends. When she used to laugh like a lunatic at my stupid jokes, when her hand would brush mine and neither of us would move away. But then came Owen Rice - the prick. Then came that night. The accident. The hospital. And when she came back, she wasn't the same. She'd built up walls with barbed wire. She'd become someone colder, louder, crueler. But I still see her. The girl I knew. And every once in a while, when no one's looking, I think she sees me too.

Rory Kavanagh. The best rugby player Tommen has ever seen-well, besides his da, obviously. Johnny Kavanagh. The Johnny Kavanagh. Our parents are basically joint at the hip, best mates since they were kids. And naturally, me and Rory just... became mates too. That's the deal. That's what we said we'd be. Friends. Right? Friends. But like-come on. Have you seen him? His abs? That man has a six-pack like he's sculpted from marble. His hair? Brown and silky, like-like a shampoo ad or somethin'. And those eyes? The kind of blue that makes you forget your own name. I swear to God, I'm not even being dramatic. So yeah... maybe I've a teeny, tiny, miniscule crush on him. Can you blame me? No. No, you can't. I won't hear it. But I'm not saying a thing. No way. What if he just laughs? That'd kill me. So for now, I'll just pretend I don't stare at him for longer than is normal when he talks. For now, it's just friendship. Grand. ...But what if he does feel the same? *** Bethany Gibson. Jaysus. She's been my best friend since we were in playschool, like actually since nappies. She's pure chaos-loud, mad, always in trouble for something-but I wouldn't change a thing about her. Not one thing. She's class. Gorgeous too. Not just like "oh she's grand," no-proper gorgeous. Her blonde curls bounce when she laughs, and I swear it's like the sun's just following her around. Her eyes? Silver. Like not even grey-silver, like a flipping fairy or something. Every time she looks at me, I forget what I was saying. Which is not ideal when you're trying to seem normal, right? I've fancied her since I was about seven. Maybe six. But what am I supposed to do? Tell her? What if she just laughs and goes, "Ah you're gas," and then pats me on the head like I'm some lost puppy? I'd actually evaporate from shame. But then again... what if she does like me back? What if all this time I was too scared to see it?

Brian O'Neill. The coldest fella Tommen's has ever seen-or so they say. And I get it. He walks down the halls like he owns the place, never says much unless he has to, face like it's carved out of marble, always unreadable. He's like a winter prince-untouchable, a bit terrifying, and way too beautiful to be real. But he's mine. He's my boyfriend. He makes my heart beat like a bloody war drum every time he so much as looks at me with that stormy gaze of his. Protective to a fault. He'd burn the whole world down if it meant keeping his siblings safe. They're everything to him-his whole bleeding heart, even if he acts like he hasn't got one. And he fights. Not schoolyard scuffles. Not rugby scraps. I'm talking about underground, illegal fights. The kind you don't talk about. The kind you pray he walks away from. *** Daisy Biggs. If sunshine had a body and a runway walk, it'd be her. She's Ireland's it girl-covers of magazines, Vogue campaigns, CHANEL deals before she was even out of third year. Everyone knows her name. Every girl wants to be her, and every lad stares a bit too long when she walks past. But she's mine. She's my girlfriend. Yeah-me. The cold bastard with blood on his knuckles and bruises under his hoodie. I don't know how I pulled her, honest to God. Maybe 'cause she sees something in me no one else bothers to look for. But we keep it quiet. No one at Tommen's knows. Can't risk the papers finding out, or the other students. She's soft with me. Gentle in a way that makes me forget I've got cuts across my ribs or a busted lip. When I show up to her place, bleeding or shaking or just not right in the head after a fight, she never freaks. She just pulls me in, cleans me up, and wraps her arms around me like I'm something worth saving. I know she hates the fights. Hates what they do to me. Hates what I have to do to win. But what am I supposed to do? When you've got a da who treats you like a weapon, you learn real quick that choices are a luxury.

Isra Valeryi. A Byli, the weakest. She has more lies than truths, and will do anything to protect her loved ones. Keith Haisran. A Zaren, the strongest. He doesn't trust easily, and he sure doesn't trust her. Lies. Betrayal. War.