The sun shines through her floral-printed curtains as she tries to ignore the fact that her alarm for school is about to go off. Her luxurious, full-size bed is far too warm and inviting to leave; it is practically begging her to stay. Abigail Burgess is the luckiest girl in the world, and she knows it. The comforter covering her is so silky that she fights to take it off, and taking her heat with her, but her parents don't like it when she ignores her alarm. So, she forced that warm comforter off her and reached for her alarm before it could reach her. She got up and looked in the mirror that highlighted her warm olive skin, which featured the hickies her boyfriend Derek left as a present for her on both sides of her neck. It made her smile to herself as she felt excited just thinking about him. A goofy smile spread across her face as she remembered their passionate make-out session last night. He always told her what he liked about her, but she wished the rest of her wasn't as chubby, but at least Derek didn't seem to mind.

She started to comb her hair with her wide-tooth comb before she straightened it. Why was she cursed with this frizz? Especially, when the rest of her family didn't have thick curls as she did, and it made her wonder why she was cursed with them. Abigail wished that she had the body and hair like her favorite singer, who was on every poster in her room, that showed her love of pop. She put on a spaghetti string top, a definite win for Derek, who chose her over all the girls in her grade. He could see any girl that he wanted, but he chose her, and his dark green eyes were things of a dream when they were on her, and she loved his light brown, messy hair, and golden tanned skin. She was hoping he would forget that she was a virgin.

She covered her top with a light cable knit turtle sweater that was in her favorite color, lavender, and a cute skirt, to hide the marks. Hopefully, Derek would meet before first period. Before heading downstairs, she applied a light layer of lip gloss.

In the kitchen, her mom, Vivienne, with her signature red hair like many on her side of the family, was preparing breakfast, and her dad, Patrick loved a whole spread of bacon, eggs, and toast as he read the paper. Vivienne set a plate in front of her dad before giving him a quick kiss, which he smiled at her like she was hung from the moon, and Abigail could see why, especially with how small she was, the freckles that made her look like a model, and just... awesome.

"Here is your plate, Abigail." Vivienne placed her plate in front of her.

"Thanks, Mom," she smiled, before digging in.

"How was the meeting yesterday, dear?" Vivienne asks her dad.

"A wreck, you think that I was talking about logo blocks, and not about medicine." Her dad's short brown hair looked almost blond under the light, as he rolled his eyes like Quinn would when they complained about homework.

"Abigail, did you finish your homework?" her dad asked.

She most definitely did not; she got distracted by daydreaming about her boyfriend and making a YouTube or TikTok video.

"I'm almost done, I just want to ask my friend about the end." She gave a half-truth.

Sometimes, she wondered why she didn't look more like her parents, but then she decided it didn't matter. What matters is keeping Derek happy so he stays her boyfriend, and being cute and trendy like her friends, rather than being academic or responsible. She was going to text him when she got to her car, so he knew that she was still thinking about him, and that way, he would have time to change his mind about her.

"That sounds like a good plan," her mom smiled.

"Thanks, Mom."

Her parents fell into an easy discussion about her dad's work, as she scrolled through her friend's social media, thinking about video ideas that could make her an influencer, and if her followers would like the outfit that she was wearing, even though it was for Derek. Despite wanting to give him everything, she hoped that it didn't make her look like she was easy online, especially considering she was still a virgin.

"You'd better go off to school, Abigail, you don't want to be late," Patrick said as he set down the newspaper.

"You're right, I'd better grab my bag," she replied.

"Here's that coffee money I promised," Vivienne handed her some cash.

"Thanks, Mom." Her parents were wonderful. "See you soon!"

The morning air was crisp as Abigail slid into the driver’s seat of her sleek, white compact car, the engine purring to life beneath her fingers. She tapped her phone against the steering wheel, quickly typing a message to Derek: “Can’t wait to see you today 😘”. Smiling at the emoji she added, she hit send, imagining the way his dark green eyes would light up when he saw it.

Pulling out of the driveway, she felt the familiar thrill of freedom. Thornton High loomed ahead, its brick façade bathed in sunlight, students milling about in clusters like bees around a hive. Abigail’s stomach did a little flip. She loved the social dance of school: the whispers, the glances, the knowing smiles. Parking in her usual spot near the side entrance, she grabbed her bag and walked through the bustling crowd. Her lavender sweater caught the light, and she could already feel eyes scanning her as she passed. A few girls whispered behind her back, but Abigail paid them no mind: they were rivals at worst, admirers at best.

“Abigail!” a cheerful voice called. She turned to see her best friend, Quinn, jogging toward her, her blonde hair bouncing in a high ponytail. “You are glowing today. Who’s got you in that mood?”

“Someone special,” Abigail replied, rolling her eyes playfully. “Derek, of course. I mean, can you blame me?”

Quinn laughed, linking arms with her. “Not at all. But remember, I get the full update by lunch. No exceptions.”

As they entered the school, the halls were alive with the usual chaos: lockers slamming, announcements over the intercom, and the faint buzz of gossip drifting from clusters of students. Abigail’s heart skipped a beat when she spotted Derek leaning against his locker near the center of the hall, his messy light brown hair catching the sunlight streaming in from the windows. He waved, flashing that signature grin that could make anyone weak in the knees.

Sliding into his personal orbit, Abigail felt a thrill of pride. Derek was hers--or at least, for now. “Morning,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

“Morning,” she replied, her cheeks warming slightly. “You look… amazing.”

“Thanks,” he said, smirking. “You too.” His gaze lingered a second too long on her lavender sweater and the cute skirt she knew hid the marks on her skin. Abigail felt a shiver run down her spine; his attention was intoxicating.

Quinn nudged her shoulder. “Don’t forget, classes start in ten minutes. I’m not dragging you to homeroom if you get stuck talking.”

Abigail reluctantly tore her eyes away from Derek, glancing at the clock. “Right… Ms Dalton. Ugh.”

First period was English, and Abigail slid into her usual seat near the back. She glanced around the room: familiar faces, the teacher scribbling on the board, the hum of quiet conversations filling the air. Yet her thoughts kept drifting to Derek, the way his hand had brushed hers in the hallway, the way he looked at her like she was the only girl in the world.

The teacher, Mrs. Lang, began the lesson on Shakespeare, but Abigail’s mind was elsewhere. She doodled hearts in the margins of her notebook, each one filled with Derek’s initials, imagining the two of them together at the weekend fair, or taking selfies for their social media, perfectly curated for their followers. When the bell finally rang, Abigail packed up quickly, eager to find Derek before lunch. She passed through the crowded hallways, eyes scanning for him like a magnet pulling her forward. And there he was: leaning casually against the lockers, surrounded by his friends, laughing like he owned the world. Abigail smiled to herself. This was her life, at least for now, and she intended to savor every second.

But as she approached, she noticed a shadow flicker across his face, a hint of something she didn’t recognize. Anxiety prickled at the edges of her excitement. Was it nothing? Or was something about to change?