Author's POV

"OH MY GOD, HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN!" Nina screeched, flying out of the tent like it was on fire, shoving every poor soul who dared block her dramatic escape route.

"DISGUSTING SH!T!" Her voice echoed through the camp like a damn war cry.

Inside the tent, Jungkook was still glued to the floor, his brain buffering, eyes wide, lips parted, hands still slightly raised like he was expecting her to come back and slap him with a sandal.

"You okay, my Brotha?" Elijah tried not to choke on his own laughter as he helped him up.

"Shut up," Jungkook muttered, his jaw still loose and his dignity missing in action.

Meanwhile, Nina was on a mission to erase history. She staggered toward the makeshift lavatories as light rain began to speckle her hair and shoulders—a drizzle that had started subtly a while ago and now draped the mountain like a soggy veil.

"I need to cleanse my mouth," she gagged, horrified, as the girls rushed behind her, trying not to trip over their own sandals in the muddy path.

"Nina, calm the fuxk down!" Mona giggled through gasps, struggling to keep up.

"You both—stop giggling like deranged pigeons!" Nina spun on her heels, nearly slipping, glaring at Mona and Emily in sheer disbelief.

"What are you even laughing at?! Nonsensical rascals..." she barked, practically foaming.

"You're gonna hurt your ankle again if you keep stomping around like a baby rhino," Emily warned, grabbing Nina's wrist to steady her.

But Nina was already gagging again, head tilted back dramatically like she was starring in a tragic musical.

"Okay—kiss me, and you'll forget him," Mona chirped.

"What?!"

Before Nina could scream, Mona clasped her face and smooched her, full-on and fearless.

Emily gasped. Nina screamed inside. And Mona? Mona pulled away after five whole seconds looking like she'd just secured a spot in heaven.

"MONA!" Nina shrieked. If steam had a volume, hers was at full blast. "You unhinged, goddamn gremlin!"

"You better run..." Emily sighed, watching this mess unfold like she had seen it all before.

Mona, giggling like a maniac, did run. She ran like her life depended on it—because it literally did.

"You better run! If I catch you, you are so DEAD!" Nina's rage echoed across the wet camp as she limped after Mona, hell-bent on revenge even with a half-broken ankle.

The rain picked up, just a bit more now, a soft, steady rhythm against the tents. The mountain air was thick with humidity, wet grass, and teenage chaos.

Back inside the tent, Jungkook finally sat up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve like he'd been slapped by a hurricane and kissed by Satan all at once.

"Sh!t," he muttered under his breath.
She kissed him.
No—they kissed.
And now?
Now the entire camp probably knew.

♡♡♡
a few hours later...

JUNGKOOK'S POV

"Shut up," I grunted, already regretting opening my damn mouth.

"You shut up, disgusting jerk."

Disgusting? You're the worst.

She glared. I glared harder.

"Shut up."

"You do that."

"I will not."

"You will. You should."

"I WON'T BE SILENCED..." she broke into a ridiculous tune like we were in the middle of a tragic musical.

Damn it. Why the hell did I ever speak.

Since she'd stormed back into the tent after our little "accident"—a tragic, cursed, humiliating accident—Nina had been on a full-blown rampage. And I, being the dumbass I am, didn't keep my mouth shut. Instead, I pushed. Poked. Mocked. Like a fool. Like I had a death wish. And unsurprisingly, she exploded—calling me "disgusting," "pathetic," a walking disease.

As if she didn't just kiss the living soul out of me.

Like hell that kiss was just disgusting. She could lie to the world. But she couldn't lie to me.

She tasted like citrus and rage. Like thunderclouds and fire. That kiss had ruined me.

And she... ran.

Like I was a plague.

She didn't even blush. Do girls not blush anymore? Because I swear, if any other girl had kissed me, she'd be in a coma giggling. But no. Nina had the audacity to treat it like it was a national tragedy. Like I had poisoned her bloodstream with my lips.

Unbelievable.

A few hours later...

We were all gathered around the campfire—just Autumn High and Panther High students, while the others loitered around, making out behind trees or smoking behind tents like we weren't on school grounds. The soft drizzle had turned the mountain air into something cold and sticky. Everything smelled like burnt firewood, wet grass, and raging hormones.

"It's uninteresting to sit and observe each other's unpleasing faces..." Mona, of course. Her voice carried that signature venom-dipped flirt she wore like perfume. "We should play instead, I suggest."

The rest of them agreed way too fast. She had them wrapped around her manicured fingers.

She pulled out a crumpled paper like she'd been planning this moment her whole life.

To play the game with a twist, she asked each of the girls to pick a fruit name for themselves and let the boys have animal names.

Then the "animal" would spin a wheel and eat one of those nightmare bean-boozled candies—half of which tasted like death. The twist? He'd choose a "fruit," and they'd have to kiss with the bean still in their mouth so the girl could taste it too.

Tell me that's not the most disgusting, psychotic idea ever conjured.

First up—Snake. One of the Panther High boys. He chewed his bean and winced so hard I thought he'd pass out. Rotten egg, probably. Then he called out "Orange."

Please be Nina. Please let it be Nina, so she could know real suffering.

But no. It was Yuna. She groaned, rolled her eyes, and kissed him anyway.

Then Elijah. That bastard. He was a "Wolf." He got the brown bean—canned dog food or chocolate pudding. His expression was unreadable. Figures. The guy could probably eat a roach and say it was crunchy.

Then it happened.

He said, "Strawberry."

Strawberry. My favorite.

Nina walked up.

Of course it's her. Of course.

Why is she always everywhere? Everything I like somehow belongs to her, infects her, is her.

She stepped toward him. He said something. She nodded.

He kissed her.

She. Didn't. Pull. Away.

She didn't gag.

She didn't scream.

She let him kiss her, and she smiled at him like he'd cured her seasonal depression.

My vision literally blacked out for two seconds.

I stood up, stormed forward, and yelled without thinking, "YAHH! HOW DID YOU KISS HIM? IS HE NOT DISGUSTING?!"

She barely blinked. "No, he isn't. But you unquestionably are."

My blood boiled. My hands itched. "You disrespectful little—LET ME STRANGLE YOU."

I moved. Too fast. My hand actually reached toward her neck. That impulsive, half-crazed part of me took over. Not to hurt her—God, never—but to shake her. To snap some sense into her. To force her to look me in the eye and admit it.

Admit that the kiss meant something. That it wasn't disgusting. That I wasn't disgusting.

"How could you do this to me?" I muttered, voice cracking in a way that made me nauseous with embarrassment.

"LET ME JUST KISS YOU AGAIN!" she yelled suddenly, dramatic and manic, before I could even step closer.

Elijah shoved me back. "Let her go, man! What the hell are you doing?"

I stumbled but didn't resist. My fists clenched at my sides as she turned and gave Elijah that smile again—the one that sickened me.

"Chocolate pudding, I see," she teased with a wink.

I bit down hard on my tongue, tasting copper and regret.

"Nina!" I barked, trying to call her back, to make her listen.

But she was already walking backward, limping like an idiot with a smirk on her face. A smirk that taunted me. Destroyed me.

"You are STILL a disgusting jerk!" she sang, disappearing into the dark, toward our tent.

"I DARE YOU TO SAY THAT TO MY FACE!" I yelled after her, ready to run—hunt—but Elijah gripped my arm again.

"Let her go, bro," he muttered.

I stood there, shaking.

This wasn't about a kiss anymore.

It was about being chosen.

She kissed me first.

But she didn't choose me.

I've never in my entire life wanted to kiss someone this badly. I've never been this close to breaking apart from something as stupid as lips touching lips.

Was I really disgusting?

I stared at the fire.

"My brotha," Elijah muttered beside me, eyeing me like I'd just lost my damn mind. "You are mightily forlorn nowadays."

I looked at him for a beat.

And kissed him.

Just a peck. A firm, closed-mouth kiss, purely for scientific evaluation.

He reeled back like I'd lit him on fire. "Blimey!"

"Oh my God, Jungkook," he coughed, wiping his mouth violently with his hoodie sleeve.

Taehyung? On the ground. Dying from laughter. Practically convulsing.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Tell me," I said flatly. "Was it disgusting?"

Elijah wiped again, gagging. "It was beyond disgusting."

...He has got to be kidding me.

Next day

Nina's POV

"JEON JUNGKOOK!" I yelled, stomping across the campgrounds like an avenging demon. "Where in the tarnation did he run off to?" I growled, grabbing Elijah by his collar.

"Calm the heck down, Neens! I don't know where he is," he said, hands raised in surrender, all innocence and soft boy energy like that's supposed to work on me. It doesn't. Especially not when he's the best mate of the jackass who turned my mouth into a damn volcano.

It wasn't even my time to wake up yet—no, I was supposed to be blissfully asleep—but instead, I woke up choking on red hot lava, aka the hottest sauce on Earth, that Jungkook had so thoughtfully poured all over my lips in the middle of the night. Inside and out. My mouth was scorched, my lips were pink and swollen like an allergic monkey, and the burn was personal.

"You better tell me where he is or you'll face consequences that will echo into the next seven generations," I hissed while bending down and grabbing a fat-ass rock off the ground.

Elijah backed away, eyes darting. Guilt, fear, something in between. Oh, he definitely helped. He's shaking like I'm about to stone him. Maybe I should.

"We found him!" Emily called behind us, I looked at Her and Mona pulling Jungkook out of the washroom cabinet, he came out zipping his pants.

"Oopsies," he said with zero remorse and enough sass to make me want to commit war crimes. He strutted toward me with the kind of cocky grin that only someone with negative brain cells could wear proudly—laughing at my burned lips, like my pain was his morning entertainment.

"What's so amusing?!" I threw a rock at his fat forehead. Bullseye.

"The hell?!" he gasped, clutching his head like a drama queen.

"Oh, I'm not done yet." One by one, I launched the stones at him like a vengeful goddess from hell, aiming for maximum insult and minimal injury. Unfortunately, he caught up and snatched my hands, forcing me to drop the rest of my rocks.

He twisted my arms behind my back and gripped them tight—tight enough to piss me off, not tight enough to win.

"What the hell are you doing?" I snarled, twisting against his grip, but he didn't budge. And then—he had the audacity to touch my thigh, running his damn fingers from my knee upward and pinching it like it owed him rent.

"That's for singing horribly," he whispered in my ear like the literal devil.

"Hey, asshole! Let her go!" Mona shouted, her voice distant and useless as Jungkook pinched me again. Twice. "That's for always annoying me," he muttered low. Then, softer but more bitter, "And for saying my kiss was disgusting."

He finally let go and I staggered back, rubbing the sore spot on my thigh just as Mona stomped up and pushed him away from me, tried to. He stumbled forward—and pulled me with him.

The ground tilted.

Before I could say anything remotely intelligent like help, oh crap, or he's kidnapping me, I was tumbling down a slope locked in a human ball of chaos and sin, limbs entangled with his, grass slashing across my face, the sky spinning above like some cruel carousel. I could hear Emily and Mona screaming in horror—or was that laughter?

We finally stopped. I was sprawled on top of him, his hair full of dirt, mine in his mouth.

"Why the hell did you do that?!" I snapped and slapped his face.

"Did you just—"

I smacked him again. "Yes, genius, I did. And I'll do it again if you keep asking."

He growled, grabbed both my wrists, and tugged me even closer, keeping us grounded and muddy.

"Should I f***ing slash your hands apart?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Should I pull your dick off and chop your balls?" I hissed back.

He laughed. Laughed. And for some ungodly reason, his laugh almost—almost—sounded hot.

"If you had just kissed me, I wouldn't have done this in the first place," he said, smirking like the menace he is. Our faces were inches apart. I could feel his breath. The boy had zero shame, just pure unfiltered audacity.

"I'd rather kiss a monkey," I spat, voice deadly calm. And I meant it.

"Is that so..." he murmured.

I scrambled off him, wiping mud from my clothes like I was trying to erase the entire interaction. My khaki shorts were a mess—brand new and now totally wrecked. I stormed off toward our group, who were laughing like hyenas.

And then—of course—he made me trip. His stupid leg jutted out just enough, and down I went again, this time face-first into dirt, grass, and what I sincerely hope was not poop.

I groaned, blinking through the soil in my lashes. He stood over me, grinning like Satan on a sugar high.

I got up. Slowly. Calmly. Then launched myself at him like a jungle cat. He caught my legs out of reflex, holding me up as I wrapped them around his waist and yanked on his hair like it was a lifeline to my rage.

"That's cheating, you foolish bitch!" I grunted, tugging harder.

"Let go of my ponytail, you maniac!" 

I let go of his hair and gripped his neck. If I was going down, he was going six feet under.

We locked eyes, our grips tightened, both of us fuming and breathless and barely inches apart when—

"NINA!"

"JUNGKOOK!"

Both principals shouted our names in synchronized horror, their voices slicing through the air like divine intervention.

We froze. Limbs tangled, hands on each other's throats, bruised and dirty and caught red-handed in the act of mutual annihilation.

..............

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