Chapter 2 The Collision Kiss

It happened in a heartbeat.

One second Rhea was half-running, phone buzzing, bag swinging off her shoulder, and the next - bam - she slammed into someone so hard it felt like bouncing off a brick wall made of warm skin and aftershave.

Her books exploded out of her arms - the Debate binder flopped open, loose pages flaring out like startled birds. She gasped, arms pinwheeling, and her foot caught on the edge of her shoe. For a terrifying second, the floor lurched toward her face.

But she didn't hit the linoleum. Two hands closed around her waist, steady and warm, catching her mid-fall.

Her hair fell across her eyes, but she saw the shape of him - broad shoulders, familiar messy hair. Jace Rivera.

Of course. Because the universe had a sick sense of humor.

She tried to scramble back, but her foot slipped again on a stray page. She felt herself tilt forward - straight toward him. Their foreheads bumped, a quick dull thunk.

"Ow - sorry -" she blurted, voice muffled.

And then it happened - the moment that would rewrite her invisible day. Her lips brushed his. Barely. A whisper. More of an accident than a kiss. But enough. Enough for the world to pause and record it, apparently.

For half a heartbeat, Rhea's brain went blank.

She felt the warmth of his mouth, the faint taste of peppermint gum, the tiny spark that zipped through her stomach like an electric shock.

And worse - for a split second, a small, traitorous thought bloomed: What if he didn't pull away?

He drew back just enough to see her face. His brown eyes were wide, startled but not angry. There was a flicker of something else - amusement, maybe, but also... curiosity? Rhea's mind spun too fast to read him.

"Well," he murmured, voice low enough that she felt it more than heard it, "that's one way to say hi."

Her entire face went up in flames. She could feel the blush climb from her neck to the tips of her ears. She lurched backward, nearly slipping again. His grip on her waist tightened for a heartbeat - warm, gentle - before he let her go.

"Sorry! I - I didn't - oh god -" She dropped to her knees, scrambling for her scattered books. Her hands shook so badly she nearly bent the Debate binder in half.

Behind Jace, a couple of his friends stood frozen. Someone - a girl with a glossy ponytail - raised her phone just high enough to catch the moment, eyes narrowed like she'd just struck gold. Rhea didn't see. She was too busy collecting her life off the dirty hallway floor.

Jace crouched beside her, one knee brushing hers. He handed her a stray pencil, his fingers grazing hers. "You okay?" he asked, his mouth tugging into that crooked grin that made people write his name on notebooks.

"I'm fine. I'm good. I'm... so sorry."

She couldn't even look at him. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might crack her ribs.

He tucked one of her note cards into the binder - bent, ink smudged. "Hey, relax. It's not every day someone tackles me into a kiss."

She choked on her breath. "It wasn't - I didn't - I tripped!"

He laughed - soft, warm - and for one stupid heartbeat she wanted to hear it again. Up close, his hair was a little messy at the crown, his eyes crinkled when he smiled. He looked so real, so breakable - not a rumor, not an Instagram filter. Just... a boy.

She pressed the binder against her chest like a shield. "I'm so sorry. I need to - I have to go."

"Hey, wait-" he started, but she was already on her feet, stumbling away, head down, books pressed tight enough to leave bruises.

She didn't see the girl with the phone snap one last photo - the perfect shot: Rhea's flushed face inches from Jace's, his hands still hovering at her waist, the blurry suggestion of something more than an accident.

By the time she rounded the next corner, the hallway felt like it was pressing in on her from all sides. Her lungs burned, her palms slick on the spines of her textbooks. She needed to hide.

She ducked into the first bathroom she found - the old one near the art wing, where the fluorescent light buzzed like a dying insect and one of the sinks was perpetually clogged.

She dumped her books onto the chipped counter, the binder skidding halfway into the sink. Her reflection in the cracked mirror looked like someone else: hair tangled, cheeks neon pink, lips parted like they hadn't realized what they'd done yet.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "Oh my god."

She gripped the edges of the sink so hard her knuckles went white. The moment replayed on an endless loop: the slip, the forehead bump, the brush of his lips. His grin. That's one way to say hi.

She squeezed her eyes shut. It was nothing. A stupid accident.

Except accidents didn't make her stomach flip. Accidents didn't make him look at her like that.

She splashed cold water on her face. The faucet rattled in protest; the water bit at her overheated skin. Good. Let it bite. Anything to snap her out of this fog.

The bathroom door creaked open behind her. Two girls drifted in, giggling, high-pitched voices echoing off the grimy tiles.

"I swear to god, Kayla got it on video," one of them squealed. "Jace Rivera! He looked like he was totally into it."

Rhea froze. Her heart clanged against her ribs.

The other girl snorted. "He's gonna regret it. Did you see her? She looked like - like some stray. She'll probably think she's special now."

"Wait till Liv sees it," the first one said. "He's so dead. And that girl? She's gonna get eaten alive."

Rhea stared at the drain, water dripping from her chin. She felt the rumor circling her like a shark fin under water - sharp, hungry, waiting for blood.

The girls didn't even glance her way. They reapplied lip gloss, fluffed their hair, and drifted out again, giggling about stories and tags. The door clanged shut behind them.

Rhea pressed her palm to her mouth, like she could shove the truth back down her throat. Invisibility was supposed to be her armor. Nobody gossiped about ghosts.

But now her armor felt like plastic wrap - see-through and useless.

Her phone buzzed in her hoodie pocket. She dragged it out, hands trembling.

One new message. Naomi, of course.

She tapped it open.

Naomi: UMMMM. Hello?? Babe?? IS THIS YOU???!

Attached was a blurry, grainy photo - but clear enough. Her face inches from Jace's. His hands on her waist. Her lips parted. A spark, frozen in time.

Rhea sank to the bathroom floor, back pressed against the stall door, phone trembling in her hands. Her reflection in the cracked mirror blurred.

She'd spent her whole life vanishing in crowds. But now the rumor was alive - and she was its favorite meal.

For the first time, there was nowhere left to hide.