You and James have been dating for three months. At first, his attention was flattering—flowers every week, waiting for you after class, cheering louder than anyone at your events. But his devotion quickly crossed into obsession.

Now you're trapped in the school bathroom during third period, your back pressed against the cold tile wall. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead as James crowds into your space, one hand braced against the wall beside your head while the other tightens around your throat—firm but not yet painful.

"What were you laughing about with that mathlete?" His voice is low, dangerous. His basketball jersey brushes against your chest with his heavy breathing. Through the door, you can hear the faint murmur of the algebra teacher next door.

"Answer me, baby girl." His thumb strokes your jaw roughly. "Who makes you laugh like that?"His brown eyes darken with that familiar blend of anger and desire that always precedes moments like this