Later that day, Jasper leaned casually against the row of lockers, just a few feet away from hers. One foot crossed over the other, earbuds still loosely dangling around his neck, and that familiar glint of trouble in his eyes.
He twirled a pencil between his fingers as if it were a magic wand and he was simply waiting for the next spell to cast.
He checked the time on his phone. Right on schedule.
"Waiting for someone?" a junior passing by teased.
Jasper didn't even look up. "Just waiting for my Cinderella."
And as if on cue, Alex turned the corner, her backpack slung over one shoulder, hair pulled into a half-bun, half-messy brilliance, and eyes already narrowed the second she saw him.
"You're in my way, Shakespeare," she said flatly, stopping in front of her locker.
Jasper gave her a slow, crooked smile. "And you're late, beautiful overachiever."
She rolled her eyes as she unlocked her locker, muttering something about "dramatic idiots" and "overinflated egos," but Jasper heard every word — and grinned.
"You free this weekend?" he asked casually, leaning in a little.
Alex didn't look at him. "Why? You need someone to help alphabetize your bookshelf again?"
"No," he said, stepping closer. "I've got two invites to Britney's party. Thought maybe you'd want to come with me. You know, trade the books for a night and dance like nobody's grading you."
She looked at him then, finally, with a skeptical raised brow.
"You're seriously inviting me to a high school cliché party?"
"Correction," Jasper said with a wink, "I'm inviting you to make the cliché interesting."
Alex stared at him, and for a second — just a second — she almost smiled.
She shut her locker with a soft clang and crossed her arms, staring at Jasper like he'd just grown a second head.
"You do realize I don't exactly do parties," Alex said, her voice even, though the flicker of interest in her eyes betrayed her curiosity. "Especially not ones hosted by Britney—who once mistook me for a foreign exchange student and tried to hand me a tour guide to the school… in Spanish."
Jasper winced in mock sympathy. "Brutal. But also very on-brand for her."
"I don't know…" Alex muttered.
"Come on, gorgeous," he said, stepping closer, eyes twinkling. "It's after the exams, the last day of the semester. A night to celebrate the end of the madness and the start of freedom. All you have to do is find a dress to match your beauty—just one—and I, your outrageously charming Shakespearean knight, will arrive and sweep you away for a night of terrible dancing, questionable music, and potentially life-altering fun."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "I don't do dresses."
Jasper placed a hand over his chest like she'd shot him. "Cruel. Cold. Savage."
"I'm serious," she said. "I'd look ridiculous."
Jasper's voice softened. "You wouldn't. You'd look like you. Just... the version of you that stops hiding behind a hoodie and sarcasm for one night. And maybe—just maybe—lets the world see how incredible you really are."
She looked down, cheeks slightly flushed. "I'll think about it," she mumbled.
He started walking backward down the hall, grinning as he called out, "Take your time, Cinderella. But don't take too long—this prince's patience is legendary, but his fashion sense isn't. I need time to coordinate with your dress!"
Alex didn't say anything, but the tiny smile tugging at her lips gave him hope.
---
The next day, Jasper lounged at his usual spot beneath the big oak tree, a book in one hand and a snack bar in the other. He wasn't reading, though. Not really. His eyes kept scanning the courtyard entrance, waiting for a flash of brunette and sarcasm.
When Alex finally appeared, books clutched tightly to her chest, he sat up straighter, tossing the book aside.
She walked past him, clearly pretending not to see him.
He called out, "If this is your way of playing hard to get, I must say—it's working splendidly."
She stopped, turned slightly, and narrowed her eyes. "You're relentless."
"And yet… charming," he said, hopping up. "Tell me you've thought about it. The party."
"I have," she admitted, sighing. "And I'm leaning toward no."
"Ouch. Harsh. Was it the Shakespearean knight line? I knew I should've gone with Mr. Darcy. More brooding, less flair."
"I just don't see the point," she muttered. "I'm not… like those girls. I'm not good at small talk, or dancing, or—"
"Hey," Jasper interrupted, his voice serious for once. "You don't have to be 'those girls.' You just have to be you. I'm not asking for a glitter queen in a sparkly dress. I'm asking you to come have a night where you let go for once. Just one night. No grades. No expectations. Just... fun."
She looked at him, conflicted. "Why do you even want me to come?"
He shrugged. "Because somewhere between quoting The Great Gatsby and telling me off for calling you beautiful, you became the most fascinating part of my day. And if I'm being honest—I'd like you to be the most fascinating part of my night too."
Alex blinked, stunned into silence for a moment. "That was actually... sweet."
Jasper grinned. "Don't get used to it. I have a reputation to uphold."
She turned away, but not before he caught a real smile tugging at her lips. "I'll think about it. No promises."
"Fair enough," he said, already pulling out his phone. "But I'm texting you five dress options anyway."
Alex groaned as she walked off, "You're insufferable."
"And yet, still your favorite."
Later that night, Alex lay sprawled across her bed, one arm covering her eyes as her ceiling fan spun in slow, lazy circles above her. The book she'd been trying to read sat abandoned beside her pillow—her brain refusing to cooperate.
She hated how he'd gotten under her skin. Again.
"You became the most fascinating part of my day."
The words repeated in her mind like an annoying song stuck on loop.
She wasn't the type to go to parties. Not like Haley. Not like the rest of her family expected. She was the "beautiful overachiever," the one who always had her nose buried in a textbook, who planned her future in bullet points and calendar alerts.
And yet...
That boy—with his ridiculous metaphors, lazy genius charm, and way-too-blue eyes—had managed to tilt her world off its axis.
Her phone buzzed beside her. A text from Jasper:
"Think of a dress. I'll handle the rest. Yours in wit and chaos — J."
Alex rolled her eyes, but a smile crept in, soft and hesitant.
"Maybe yes," she whispered to her ceiling, not ready to admit it out loud but letting the idea bloom in the quiet.
Maybe, just this once, she could let herself live a little.