CHAPTER THREE:ANOTHER FAILED SESSION
1990 Words
Kai woke up irritated.
That wasn’t unusual.
What was unusual was the reason.
He had spent half the night staring at his ceiling, replaying every second of yesterday’s study session in the east library.
The arguments.
The storm.
The infuriating way Adrian always managed to speak like he was issuing orders instead of having a conversation.
And worst of all, the fact that Kai had let himself get distracted by it.
It was ridiculous.
Adrian was his academic rival, his biggest source of frustration, and possibly the most arrogant person Kai had ever met.
He should not be occupying this much space in Kai’s thoughts.
Yet there Kai was, dragging himself through the gates of Ravenscroft Academy with dark circles under his eyes and enough irritation to fuel an entire week.
“Wow.”
Maya fell into step beside him.
“You look terrible.”
Kai shot her a flat look.
“Good morning to you too.”
She studied his face for a moment, then grinned.
“You were thinking about him.”
Kai nearly tripped over his own feet.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Please. You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one people get when they spend too much time obsessing over someone.”
Kai groaned.
“I was not obsessing.”
Maya’s grin widened.
“Sure.”
Before he could defend himself further, another voice joined them.
“Well, if it isn’t Bennett.”
Kai’s shoulders tensed immediately.
Noah.
Of course.
Noah leaned casually against the nearby wall, his expression carrying that same smug superiority Kai had spent years wanting to wipe off his face.
“You look exhausted,” Noah said.
“Didn’t sleep well?”
Kai crossed his arms.
“What do you want?”
Noah smiled thinly.
“I’m just curious.”
“About what?”
“How long before your little partnership crashes and burns.”
Maya rolled her eyes.
“Find a hobby.”
Noah ignored her.
“You and Adrian can barely be in the same room without arguing.”
Kai stared at him.
“What exactly is your point?”
“My point,” Noah said, stepping closer, “is that some people aren’t built for collaboration.”
Kai’s jaw tightened.
“And some people aren’t built for subtlety, yet here you are.”
Maya let out a snort of laughter.
Noah’s expression darkened.
Before he could respond, movement at the end of the hall drew everyone’s attention.
Adrian.
Walking toward them with Ethan beside him.
As usual, Adrian looked perfectly composed, like the world itself had no right to inconvenience him.
Ethan, on the other hand, looked entirely too entertained by the tension.
“Well,” Ethan said lightly as they approached, “this looks pleasant.”
“It was,” Maya said dryly. “Until Noah started talking.”
Noah scoffed.
“Stay out of this.”
Ethan shrugged.
“Hard to, when your bitterness is loud enough to echo through the building.”
Kai almost smirked.
Almost.
Noah glared at all of them before muttering something under his breath and stalking off.
Maya watched him leave.
“He gets more unbearable every year.”
“Agreed,” Ethan said.
Kai blinked.
That was the first time he and Ethan had ever agreed on anything.
Adrian, however, said nothing.
His gaze settled briefly on Kai.
Then he looked away.
“Library. Four o’clock.”
Kai frowned.
“What?”
“Our second preparation session,” Adrian said evenly. “Unless you’ve already decided to waste another afternoon.”
Kai bristled.
“I’m not the one wasting time.”
Adrian arched a brow.
“Really? Because yesterday’s performance suggested otherwise.”
Kai stepped closer.
“Maybe if you stopped treating every conversation like a military operation—”
“Maybe if you learned basic discipline—”
“Maybe if you removed the giant stick up your—”
“Children,” Maya interrupted loudly.
The hallway went silent.
She looked between them and sighed dramatically.
“You two are exhausting.”
Ethan chuckled.
“For once, I agree.”
Kai glared.
Adrian simply adjusted his bag and walked away.
“Four o’clock,” he repeated.
Kai stared after him.
God, he hated that guy.
---
The day crawled.
Every class felt longer than usual.
Every glance at the clock made time seem slower.
By the time the final bell rang, Kai was already mentally preparing for battle.
He arrived at the east library exactly at four.
Adrian was already there.
Again.
Kai was beginning to suspect the guy materialized wherever he was needed through sheer force of self-importance.
“You’re on time,” Adrian said without looking up.
Kai dropped into the chair across from him.
“Try not to sound so shocked.”
“I’m not.”
“You sounded shocked.”
“That’s because your standards are historically low.”
Kai stared.
“Do you rehearse being this annoying?”
Adrian finally looked up.
“No. It comes naturally when dealing with you.”
Kai gritted his teeth.
This was going to be a long afternoon.
A stack of books sat neatly arranged in the center of the table.
Adrian had already divided them into categories.
Literature.
History.
Science.
Mathematics.
Kai frowned.
“What’s this?”
“A schedule.”
Kai immediately disliked that word.
Adrian slid a paper toward him.
Every hour of the next six weeks had been planned in meticulous detail.
Study blocks.
Practice assessments.
Topic rotations.
Even designated review breaks.
Kai stared at it in disbelief.
“You made this?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
Kai laughed sharply.
“Of course you did.”
Adrian frowned.
“What’s wrong with it?”
Kai held up the schedule.
“This is insane.”
“It’s efficient.”
“It’s obsessive.”
“It’s organized.”
“It’s psychotic.”
Adrian’s expression darkened.
“It’s what winning requires.”
Kai tossed the paper back onto the table.
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m not following this.”
Adrian blinked slowly.
“You’re refusing a strategy because it involves structure?”
“I’m refusing because it looks like a prison sentence.”
“It’s six weeks.”
“Exactly.”
Adrian leaned back.
“And what’s your brilliant alternative?”
Kai opened his notebook.
“Flexible review. Prioritize weak areas as they come up.”
Adrian stared at him.
“That’s your plan?”
“It works.”
“It’s reckless.”
“It’s adaptable.”
“It’s lazy.”
Kai slammed his notebook shut.
“Say that again.”
The library’s silence magnified every word.
Several students nearby glanced nervously in their direction.
Adrian’s voice remained calm.
“It’s lazy.”
Kai rose halfway from his chair.
“You know what your problem is?”
Adrian didn’t move.
“You assume that because someone works differently than you, they’re automatically wrong.”
“And your problem,” Adrian replied, “is confusing impulsiveness with intelligence.”
Kai fully stood.
Adrian rose too.
The table suddenly felt much smaller.
The tension between them sharpened instantly.
“Sit down,” Adrian said.
Kai laughed.
“You really think you can order me around?”
“When you’re acting irrationally? Yes.”
“Try it again.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“Sit. Down.”
Kai leaned forward.
“Make me.”
For one charged moment, neither moved.
Then—
A loud throat-clearing shattered the tension.
Both turned.
Principal Whitmore stood near the entrance, arms folded.
Her expression was unimpressed.
“This is a library. Not a gladiator arena.”
Kai immediately stepped back.
Adrian straightened.
The principal approached their table slowly.
“I trust your preparation is progressing.”
Neither spoke.
That alone was answer enough.
Her gaze sharpened.
“You were selected because you are Ravenscroft’s strongest students.”
She placed both hands on the table.
“If this partnership fails because of childish hostility, both of you will answer for it.” He turned to look at Adrian "You don't want to loose playing hockey" then to Kai "Your scholarship is on the line"
Kai looked away.
Beside him, Adrian’s jaw tightened.
The principal sighed.
“You have one week to demonstrate measurable progress.”
Then she left.
Silence settled heavily over the table.
Kai dropped back into his chair.
Adrian sat as well.
Neither spoke for nearly a minute.
Finally, Kai muttered, “This is your fault.”
Adrian looked up sharply.
“My fault?”
“You’re impossible to work with.”
Adrian gave a humorless laugh.
“That’s rich coming from you.”
“At least I’m not trying to control every second of this.”
“At least I’m trying.”
The words hit harder than Kai expected.
Something in Adrian’s tone had shifted.
Not softer.
Sharper.
More frustrated.
Kai crossed his arms.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Adrian said coldly, “that unlike you, I understand what’s at stake.”
Kai’s temper flared.
“You think I don’t?”
“I think you treat everything like a joke until consequences appear.”
Kai stood again.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
Their voices had risen again.
Nearby students were openly staring now.
Kai didn’t care.
Adrian stood.
“Then enlighten me.”
The challenge in his voice was unmistakable.
Kai’s fists clenched.
For a moment, he wanted to say it.
Wanted to tell Adrian exactly what this competition meant.
What the scholarship recommendations could do for him.
What losing would cost.
But he stopped himself.
Adrian didn’t deserve that truth.
Instead, Kai snapped, “Forget it.”
He grabbed his bag.
Adrian’s expression hardened.
“Running away?”
Kai laughed bitterly.
“Trust me, leaving this room is the smartest thing I’ve done all day.”
He turned toward the exit.
“Bennett.”
Kai stopped.
He didn’t turn around.
“What?”
Adrian’s voice was ice-cold.
“If you sabotage this partnership because your ego can’t tolerate cooperation—”
Kai spun back.
“My ego?”
Adrian stepped forward.
“Yes. Your ego.”
Kai closed the distance between them in two strides.
They were too close now.
Close enough that the anger radiating between them felt physical.
“You think this is about my ego?”
“What else would it be?”
Kai stared at him.
At the infuriating calmness in Adrian’s face.
At the certainty in his gray eyes.
And something inside him snapped.
“This,” Kai said through clenched teeth, “is exactly why I can’t stand you.”
Adrian’s expression darkened.
“The feeling is mutual.”
The words landed like a slap.
For a long second, neither moved.
Then Kai laughed.
A harsh, humorless sound.
“Good.”
He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out.
This time, Adrian didn’t stop him.
The heavy library doors slammed shut behind Kai.
He strode down the empty corridor, breathing hard.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
Every part of him burned with frustration.
This wasn’t working.
It was never going to work.
And deep down, Kai knew something worse than failure was coming.
Because if two sessions had already pushed them this far—
What would happen after six weeks?
As he turned the corner toward the stairs, he froze.
At the far end of the corridor stood Noah.
Leaning casually against the wall.
Waiting.
A slow smile spread across Noah’s face.
“Well,” he said softly, “that sounded productive.”
Kai’s stomach dropped.
Something about the way Noah looked at him sent unease crawling down his spine.
And when Noah pushed himself off the wall and began walking toward him—
Kai realized this conversation was about to make an already terrible day much, much worse.
- Writer
