The street lay littered with confetti and plastic cups, the fading pulse of house music still vibrating through the pavements. Marina stood near the kerb, clutching her coat around her slender frame, her breath forming pale clouds in the cool April air. The party had ended hours ago, but clusters of late stragglers lurked on the pavement, buzzing about the night’s events. Taxis honked in the distance, their headlights slicing through the darkness, promising escape to those willing to pay. Despite the chaos around her, Marina felt calm—her mind replayed only one truth: she had finally danced with Jonathan Collins.

Jonathan, the school’s golden boy, had always been a myth to Marina. As captain of the rugby team, he strode through corridors with effortless charm, his smile lighting up even the dullest afternoon. Yet she remembered the way he had sought her out under the pulsating lights, how he’d been drawn to her enthusiasm for comic books and astrophysics, her vivid passion for everything geeky. She would never forget the warmth in his voice when he said, “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met,” nor the tender way he brushed a strand of hair from her face as they swayed to a slowed-down remix. In that moment, she had felt like she possessed a winning lottery ticket—simultaneously incredulous and immensely lucky.

Behind a stand of bin bags, Simone watched them with narrowed eyes, jealousy coiling in her chest like a serpent. The party belle had always assumed Jonathan was her destined partner, their relationship an unspoken certainty from the day they’d first shared a bench in assembly. Now, as she witnessed the new couple leaving hand in hand, her features tightened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. She would not let this stand. Quiet as a cat, Simone slipped away from the gathering throng and shadowed them along the lamp-lit pavement.

Marina’s mind was a whirl of exhilaration. She could hardly believe that the boy who’d once asked her to help with physics homework had invited her to his party—and that he had asked her to dance. Each time she looked at him, her heart fluttered the way it did in the quiet library after she’d finished a chapter of her favourite science fiction novel.

Jonathan hailed a taxi, their arms still linked. He glanced at Marina, concern flickering in his brown eyes. “Are you cold?” he asked gently.

She smiled, tugging her coat tighter. “Just a bit. But I don’t mind.”

He knelt to fix her scarf, brushing his fingers against her cheek. “Promise you’ll let me walk you home?”

“I promise,” she replied, her voice soft with relief.

They sank into the taxi, finding seats at the back. The car reeked of perfume and stale beer, but none of that mattered. She pressed closer to Jonathan, resting her head against his shoulder, and gazed out at a world that glimmered with newfound possibility.

Simone followed at a cautious distance, her boots clicking on the pavement in time to the distant beat of a final remix. She halted behind a hedge and waited for the taxi to draw away, then crossed the road and sprinted to catch up once it disappeared around the corner. When she reached the taxi’s path, she slowed, deliberately matching Marina’s pace until she was mere paces behind.

“Marina!” she called softly at first, then a little louder. The couple halted at a street lamp. Marina turned, surprised.

“Simone?” Marina asked with a short laugh. “I thought you’d gone home hours ago.”

Simone’s eyes darted toward Jonathan, narrowing. “I wanted to walk you home. You know, to make sure you’re—”

“Safe?” Marina asked kindly. “Thanks, but I’m fine.” She smiled at Jonathan. “Simon’s being very brave about walking me home. Aren’t you?”

Jonathon’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Simon?”

“Simone,” Marina corrected swiftly. “Come on—this way.”

She set off down a side street, and Jonathan followed. Simone hesitated but fell into step again behind them, her jealousy smouldering with every stride.

Marina’s home, a cosy red-brick semi on the edge of a leafy cul-de-sac, glowed with warm light. She inhaled the familiar scent of jasmine hedges and washing powder drifting through the open window. The taxi-yellow lamplight gave way to the soft glow of her hallway lamp as her front door clicked shut behind them.

Jonathan hesitated in the hallway, his hand still raised as though he wished to knock again. “Is it okay if I come in for a minute?”

Marina’s face brightened. “Of course.” She led him into the sitting room, where plush sofas flanked a crackling fire.

Simone emerged from the hallway behind them, purposeful in motion. She placed her hands on her hips. “You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you, Marina?”

Marina froze. “Simone—what are you doing here?”

Simone’s voice was low and tense. “I’m making sure you’re safe. But mostly, I wanted to ask Jonathan why he spent the entire evening talking to you.”

Jonathan stepped between the two girls, arms raised in a placating gesture. “Hey, calm down. Simone, right? I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“He’s Jonathan Collins,” Simone sneered. “He’s mine. Or at least, he should be.”

Jonathan scowled. “That’s not how it works.” He turned to Marina. “I think we should go, Marina.”

Marina’s cheeks flamed. Jonathan took her hand and guided her toward the door. Simone moved to follow; Marina caught her arm gently and shook her head.

“Simone, please don’t come after me,” Marina said quietly. “This isn’t your business.”

Simone snatched her arm free. “Oh, but it is. You’ve stolen him from me.” She rounded on Jonathan. “And as for you—who do you think you are?”

Jonathan’s jaw clenched. “I think you should leave, Simone.”

Simone stepped back, eyes blazing. She gave Marina one more look—equal parts rage and heartbreak—then turned and stormed out.

Jonathan gently closed the door and sank onto the sofa, pulling Marina down beside him. She leaned into his shoulder, silent tears pricking her eyes. His arm went around her.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You don’t deserve any of that.”

Marina shook her head. “She’s just…hurt.”

His lips curved in a sad smile. “Not your fault. Either way, I’m with you now.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Marina looked at him—saw the earnest promise in his eyes—and knew she meant it. All the rage, jealousy, and heartbreak seemed to melt away as she tasted the warmth of one quiet, honest moment: the first of many they would share.

Outside, the street lay still. The after party had ended, but for Marina and Jonathan, a new chapter was just beginning.

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