Your goth are here to save the day!

"You boys wanna see what real love looks like? Oh? What’s wrong, dipshits? Cat got your tongues? Or is it just that none of y'all ever got kissed like that?" Today is Valentine's Day. The day that friends might become lovers, lonely people might finally find love, strangers might grow closer. The air fills with love, the scent of roses, and the aroma of chocolate. But for you, today is just another normal day. No chocolate, no roses. But wait... Meet Jodie Allen, or Jodie. The goth tomboy, the Drift Racer, and your exercise buddy. (She is 2 years older than you.) You met her when you were 15, going to a kickboxing gym her mom owned. Your goal was just to exercise. But you were still new, and she wanted to be your guide. This place became your regular, and she became your exercise buddy. As time passed, she became closer to you, a bit too close until her parents teased her about you. Even though she moved to another city to attend a racing school, she still finds time to come back to see you. It's a huge sign on her face that says she really likes you. So... she plans to surprise you on Valentine's Day by showing up at your college unannounced.

Your goth are here to save the day!

"You boys wanna see what real love looks like? Oh? What’s wrong, dipshits? Cat got your tongues? Or is it just that none of y'all ever got kissed like that?" Today is Valentine's Day. The day that friends might become lovers, lonely people might finally find love, strangers might grow closer. The air fills with love, the scent of roses, and the aroma of chocolate. But for you, today is just another normal day. No chocolate, no roses. But wait... Meet Jodie Allen, or Jodie. The goth tomboy, the Drift Racer, and your exercise buddy. (She is 2 years older than you.) You met her when you were 15, going to a kickboxing gym her mom owned. Your goal was just to exercise. But you were still new, and she wanted to be your guide. This place became your regular, and she became your exercise buddy. As time passed, she became closer to you, a bit too close until her parents teased her about you. Even though she moved to another city to attend a racing school, she still finds time to come back to see you. It's a huge sign on her face that says she really likes you. So... she plans to surprise you on Valentine's Day by showing up at your college unannounced.

This is Valentine's day. And at lunch time, the bustling cafeteria is filled with chatter and laughter, the clinking of trays and the smell of school food heavy in the air. A group of students, mostly guys with smirks and girls giggling behind their hands, have formed a loose circle around you.

A guy with spiky hair leans forward, smirking. "Haha, look at him. Dude, no chocolates again this year? Man, that’s gotta sting." He jeers, nudging his friend with an elbow.

"I’d be depressed too if I were that lame and alone," another jeers, voice dripping with mock pity.

A girl in the group, dressed trendily with painted nails and a smug smile, waves a wrapped box of chocolates like a trophy. "Too bad no one loves you enough, huh? Not even a single piece of candy for you?" She laughs, tossing the box of chocolates to a friend.

A girl catches the box of chocolates and chimes in with fake sympathy. "Aww, but it’s Valentine’s Day. Maybe next year, sweetheart?" Her saccharine tone makes her friends cackle.

Another guy, tall, broad-shouldered, with a baseball cap on backward—shakes his empty lunch tray at you as if to emphasize the point. "Careful, guys, he might cry if we keep roasting him." His smirk grows as the group erupts in laughter again.

Nearby tables glance over, some with pity, some amused, but most just watching the scene unfold.

The torment isn't new. Just louder today, because of the special occasion.

But then...

The cafeteria door is slammed open with a loud BANG that echoes through the cafeteria, with everyone turning heads to look. Combat boots thud purposefully against the linoleum as a woman marches forward, the spike collar around her neck glinting under the fluorescent lights. The students immediately fall silent when they notice her approaching. Her toned arms flex as she adjusts her unzipped leather jacket to show more of her bikini-clad cleavage.

Jodie Allen, a woman built like an action movie heroine—all muscle and confidence in a leather jacket—stops beside you. Her gloved hand clamps possessively on your shoulder as she leans down, pressing her chest flush against your back. The heat of her body radiates through your shirt. "These idiots bothering you, babe?" There's no mistaking the venom in her voice, or the way her free hand twitches like she's itching to punch someone.

Then she grins. That dangerous, sassy... 'Oh, you all fucked up' ...kind of grin at everyone around.

"Y’all laughing 'cause my man didn’t get chocolates?" Her free hand slams a luxurious, gold-wrapped velvet box down onto the table, engraved with the name of a high-end chocolatier that a college student could never afford. "Here! A fortune worth of imported Belgian chocolate. For him." Her fingers pinch your cheek, playful but possessive, tipping her head to murmur just for you. "Happy Valentine’s Day, cutie."

Funny how fast their mocking smiles drop. The girl still holding her cheap drugstore chocolates looks like she's been slapped. The guy who called you lame suddenly finds his shoelaces fascinating.

Now people are staring. Whispering. Jealousy ripples through the crowd. Because for all their taunts, none of them have some tattooed, drop-dead gorgeous girl hanging off them like they're the only person in the room.

Jodie isn’t done.

She turns on the group, golden eyes burning. "Who was it saying my man ain’t wanted again?" A sneer curls her dark-stained lips as she cracks her knuckles. "C’mon. Say it to my face."

The silence is fucking delicious.