More Than Rivals

Chapter 7: Just a Bet

By Monday morning, I had almost convinced myself that Saturday night hadn't changed anything.

Almost.

Toby was still Toby.

I was still me.

We were still friends.

Nothing had happened.

Except that I had spent most of Sunday thinking about him.

Which, obviously, meant nothing.

I was halfway through highlighting my notes when someone dropped into the seat beside me.

"Morning."

I didn't need to look up.

"You're late."

"Again?"

I turned toward him.

He was smiling.

"You say that every time."

"Because you're late every time."

"I like making an entrance."

"You entered a classroom."

"Exactly."

I rolled my eyes.

He placed a cup on my desk.

I stared at it.

"What is that?"

"Coffee."

"I can see that."

"I got it for you."

I looked at him suspiciously.

"Why?"

"Because you like it."

I paused.

"How do you know that?"

"You always order the same thing."

My eyebrows lifted.

"You noticed?"

He shrugged.

"I notice things."

Something warm settled in my chest.

I looked down at the cup.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He smiled and opened his notebook.

I tried to focus on my notes.

I really did.

But I kept thinking about the fact that Toby knew my coffee order.

It was such a small thing.

Yet somehow, it felt important.

---

At lunch, Toby sat beside me in the student center.

Again.

At this point, I wasn't sure if he even had other friends.

"You know," I said, opening my juice, "you spend a lot of time with me."

He looked up from his food.

"Do I?"

"Yes."

"Is that a problem?"

"No."

"Then we're good."

I smiled.

"You're very comfortable."

"I've noticed."

"That's not something to be proud of."

"It is when you're talking about me."

I laughed.

He smiled at me.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then someone called his name from across the room.

"Toby!"

He turned.

Three guys were standing near the entrance.

One of them lifted his chin, gesturing for Toby to come over.

Toby looked back at me.

"I'll be right back."

I nodded.

He walked over.

I watched as they started talking.

I couldn't hear what they were saying.

But I could tell from Toby's expression that whatever the conversation was about, he wasn't enjoying it.

One of the guys laughed.

Toby didn't.

Then he glanced over at me.

Our eyes met.

He immediately looked away.

I frowned.

A minute later, he returned.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing."

"That didn't look like nothing."

He sat down.

"It's just my friends being annoying."

"That's nothing new."

He smiled.

"Exactly."

I let it go.

At least, I tried to.

---

Later that afternoon, Toby met his friends behind the baseball stadium.

There were four of them.

Marcus.

Ethan.

Ryan.

And Jake.

They had been his friends since freshman year, long before Zikora had become a regular part of his life.

Marcus leaned against the fence.

"So."

Toby sighed.

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"I know exactly what you're going to say."

Marcus laughed.

"Then say it."

Toby folded his arms.

"What?"

"How's our girl?"

Toby's expression hardened.

"She's not your girl."

Ryan laughed.

"Listen to him."

"I'm serious."

Marcus raised both hands.

"Relax."

Toby didn't.

He hated the way they talked about Zikora.

Like she was a number on a scoreboard.

Like she wasn't a person.

Like this was still funny.

Ethan nudged Marcus.

"How much longer?"

Toby frowned.

"Longer for what?"

"The bet."

Toby's jaw tightened.

"I know."

Marcus smiled.

"You've got until the end of the semester."

"I know."

"And she has to say it first."

Toby stared at him.

"I remember the rules."

"Then what's the problem?"

"There isn't one."

Marcus studied him.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"You've been spending every day with her."

"She's my friend."

"You're taking her to parties."

"She's my friend."

"You walked her home."

"She's my friend."

Marcus laughed.

"Bro, you keep saying that like you're trying to convince yourself."

Toby said nothing.

Ryan crossed his arms.

"Don't get soft now."

That got Toby's attention.

"I'm not soft."

"Then prove it."

Toby looked at him.

"How?"

"Get her to fall for you."

Silence.

The words sounded different now.

A few weeks ago, they would've made Toby laugh.

Now they irritated him.

He looked toward the field.

"I don't want to hurt her."

His friends went quiet.

Marcus stared at him.

"Then don't."

Toby looked back at him.

"But?"

"But remember what you agreed to."

Toby exhaled.

He knew.

He remembered the stupid conversation.

The jokes.

The challenge.

The five hundred dollars.

The ridiculous condition that Zikora had to say I love you first.

At the time, it had seemed impossible.

Zikora barely tolerated him.

Now she smiled when she saw him.

She texted him.

She trusted him.

And Toby was beginning to realize that he cared about every single one of those things.

Marcus walked closer.

"Look, man. You wanted the money."

Toby nodded.

"I know."

"So get it."

Toby looked down.

Five hundred dollars.

It wasn't even that much.

Not compared to everything else.

He could easily afford to lose it.

But that wasn't the point.

The point was that he'd made a promise.

And now he was starting to wish he hadn't.

---

That evening, I was sitting in the library when Toby appeared.

He dropped into the chair opposite me.

"You look tired."

"I am."

"Long day?"

"Very."

He opened his laptop.

"I'll make you laugh."

"That sounds threatening."

"It is."

He started telling me about something that had happened during practice.

I laughed.

Then he laughed because I was laughing.

And somehow, twenty minutes passed without either of us studying.

I closed my notebook.

"We're terrible study partners."

"Speak for yourself."

"You haven't opened your textbook."

"I've been emotionally supporting you."

I stared at him.

"By telling jokes?"

"Exactly."

"You're useless."

"Yet you keep coming back."

I smiled.

"Maybe you're not completely useless."

He leaned back.

"That's basically a love confession."

I threw a pen at him.

He caught it.

"Violence?"

"Necessary."

He laughed.

I watched him for a moment.

There was something different about him lately.

I couldn't explain it.

He was still annoying.

Still arrogant.

Still impossible.

But there were moments when he looked at me and the teasing disappeared.

Like right now.

His smile faded.

He looked at me quietly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You were staring."

"I wasn't."

"You were."

I looked away.

"You're imagining things."

He smiled.

"Maybe."

Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.

Then he reached across the table and pushed my notebook toward me.

"Study."

I laughed.

"Bossy."

"Very."

I opened my textbook.

He did the same.

And just like that, the moment passed.

Neither of us knew that somewhere beneath the jokes and late-night conversations, a secret was already waiting.

A secret that would eventually change everything.

For now, though, I was happy.

And Toby was sitting across from me.

That's all that mattered.

At least, that's what I believed.

Because I didn't know about the five hundred dollars.

I didn't know about the bet.

And I certainly didn't know that the boy I was beginning to trust had once agreed to make me fall in love with him.