Chapter 1

In a daze, I overheard my childhood friend and the muscled guy debating who would get to keep me tonight.

The more I listened, the stranger it sounded. Wait—what?!

Turns out, they actually want to do that with me together—and here they are, passionately debating who’s on top and who’s on bottom?!

Hold up, I haven’t agreed to any of this! How did these two already settle all the roles?!

The moment I opened my eyes, I found myself stretched out in an embarrassing position in the empty school clinic, the pain bringing tears to my eyes.

"Arnold Strong, you jerk! Get your foot off my hips!"

But he had no intention of letting me go, pressing my knees down harder against the bed with his foot.

On the other side, a pair of narrow, alluring eyes gazed at me, filled with danger as he murmured seductive words.

"The wider the hips, the better. Let's do it again."

A chill ran down my spine. They weren’t seriously trying to turn me into an Oreo sandwich, were they?!

"Stop scaring him," Arnold Strong shot an irritated look at James Whitaker but still spoke gently to me. "You just pulled a muscle running the 3,000 meters for the physical test. I was helping you."

"So... you mean running?" I let out a sigh of relief.

James Whitaker smirked devilishly. "Not exactly."

He stepped closer, his hand trailing slowly down to my backside. "I don’t mean running," he murmured. "I’m talking about doing things... not exactly suitable for kids—with Charles."

Smack.

Arnold Strong angrily swatted James Whitaker’s hand away. "Are you nuts? Charles isn’t yours alone."

"I’ve known him since he was little, so of course he’s mine alone," James shot back, pulling me closer.

"And what about me, his brother? I’m still his class monitor, and I’m taking him back to class. What’s it to you?" Arnold snapped, grabbing my hand and trying to tug me off the bed.

My hands were soon covered in red marks from all the tugging and pulling, and I finally couldn’t take it anymore, jumping up from the bed.

James’s eyes flickered with a mix of disappointment and malice as he grabbed the fruit knife from the table, pointing it directly at me.

"Tell me, Charles—are you coming with me, or with him?"

Bro, you're jealous of him! Why are you pointing the knife at me?!