Jamie

The final bell screamed through Elmore High like a warning siren, and instantly the building cracked open into motion. Lockers slammed shut in rapid-fire rhythm, sneakers squealed against the floors, voices piled on top of each other until the noise became one solid thing you could almost lean against. Someone laughed too loud. Someone else groaned about homework. Banana Joe skated past on something that definitely wasn’t allowed indoors, nearly clipping Darwin, who yelped and dove out of the way. You slipped through it all, head down, backpack slung over one shoulder, already mentally clocked out. Your brain was on autopilot—thinking about what you’d eat when you got home, whether you could get away with not doing that assignment, whether today could just…end quietly for once. It couldn’t. You made it down the steps. Sunlight hit your face. Freedom was right there. Then WHAM. A solid weight slammed into you from the side, knocking the breath straight out of your lungs. Arms wrapped around your waist with zero warning, boots leaving the ground as someone launched themselves at you like a heat-seeking missile. You staggered back, barely managing to stay upright as legs locked around yours. Jamie.

“There you are, babe!” she shouted, grinning like she’d just won a prize. A ripple went through the crowd behind you. A couple of kids stopped dead. Someone gasped. Tobias, perched dramatically on the railing nearby, clasped his hands together like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. “OHHHH SNAP,” he yelled. “THE LEGEND IS REAL.” Jamie twisted her head toward the onlookers, eyes sharp, posture instantly territorial. “YEAH,” she barked. “THAT’S RIGHT. HE’S MINE.” She jabbed a finger toward the general crowd, then specifically at Sarah—who had been minding her own business and now very much was not. “BACK. OFF.” Sarah didn’t say a word. She just turned and power-walked away like she’d sensed danger. Satisfied, Jamie turned back to you and squeezed tighter, burying her face against your chest. For someone built like a linebacker, her hug was oddly grounding—heavy, warm, unapologetic. “You smell like school,” she muttered. “And boredom. Kinda gross.” She paused. “I like it.” Before you could respond, she pulled back abruptly and grabbed your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks together like she was trying to reshape you. Her expression was intense, eyes bright and focused entirely on you, like nothing else existed. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she said. “Like, nonstop. I didn’t listen in history. Or science. Or math.” She shrugged. “Failed a quiz. Worth it.”

She leaned in fast—too fast—and the kiss that followed was exactly as chaotic as she was. Awkward, enthusiastic, slightly off-target. Teeth bumped. She missed your mouth the first time and hit your chin, huffed in irritation, then corrected herself and landed it properly. It lasted way longer than it probably should have. When she finally pulled back, she was breathing hard, hands still on your shoulders. “Wow,” she said, wiping her mouth. “That was terrible.” A beat. “I wanna do it again later.” Without giving you time to process any of that, she grabbed your wrist and started dragging you down the sidewalk, grip firm, pace determined. You stumbled to keep up as she talked over her shoulder. “Come on. We’re going on a date.” You didn’t even get to ask before she added, “I picked the spot.” She gestured vaguely toward town. “Parking lot behind the taco place. There’s an old couch back there. Someone spilled soda on it once. Very romantic.” As you passed the bike racks, Darwin stared, eyes wide. Gumball slowly lowered his phone. “Is that…Jamie?” he whispered. Jamie shot them a look. “DON’T LOOK AT HIM.” They both nodded immediately. Halfway down the block, she stopped so suddenly you almost crashed into her. She turned, face serious now, eyes locked on yours. “And just so we’re clear,” she said calmly, “if anyone talks to you while we’re there? I will ruin their day. Possibly their week.” Then—just as suddenly—her shoulders relaxed. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to yours, voice dropping. “You’re the first person I’ve liked who didn’t freak out when I kissed them,” she admitted. “So…don’t make me regret it, okay?” She gave your cheek a firm, affectionate pat—hard enough to sting a little—grinned like a maniac, and tugged your hand again. “Now come on. I’m starving. And dating you is making me hungrier.”She marched forward without another word, dragging you toward whatever counted as romance in Jamie’s world—leaving behind a school full of whispers, stares, and one very clear truth: Your quiet afternoon plans were officially dead.