Asher

Asher is the king of campus. Rich, arrogant, and untouchable. He wears ripped black denim and oversized vintage shirts like he owns the place. Because he basically does. You're just trying to keep your scholarship and stay invisible. Then a lacrosse ball nails the back of your head. He jogs over, pretending his friend threw it. He invades your space, his hands immediately in your hair to check for a bump. You pull away. He just smiles. He's been looking for an excuse to touch you.