Chapter Two — The Worst Possible Partner
931 Words
I should have known the blue dress would cause trouble.
The moment I stepped onto campus, I spotted Damien Carter leaning against the wall outside the lecture hall.
His eyes moved over me.
Then stopped.
On the blue dress.
“You actually wore it.”
I smiled.
“Good morning to you too.”
“I warned you.”
“And I ignored you.”
“I noticed.”
He pushed away from the wall and walked toward me.
“You really enjoy making my life difficult, don’t you?”
I laughed.
“Your life was difficult long before I met you.”
His lips twitched.
“Keep telling yourself that, Williams.”
Before I could respond, Maya appeared beside me.
She looked at Damien, then at me.
“Why do you two always start fighting before 9 a.m.?”
“Because he can’t mind his business,” I said.
“Because she doesn’t listen,” Damien replied.
Maya sighed.
“One day, I’m going to charge both of you for stress.”
I laughed.
Damien didn’t.
His eyes were still on me.
I frowned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Then stop staring.”
He looked away.
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“Prove it.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Whatever.”
We walked into the lecture hall.
I thought that was the end of it.
I was wrong.
Our lecturer entered a few minutes later and placed a stack of papers on the desk.
“Before we begin,” she announced, “your semester project will be done in pairs.”
The entire class erupted.
I immediately looked at Maya.
“Please let me be with you.”
She laughed.
“I’m already paired with someone.”
“Traitor.”
Our lecturer began calling names.
I barely listened.
Until I heard mine.
“Amara Williams.”
I raised my head.
“Here.”
She checked her list.
“Damien Carter.”
The class went quiet for half a second.
Then Maya slowly turned toward me.
I stared at the lecturer.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes?”
“Can I change my partner?”
A few people laughed.
Damien leaned back in his chair.
“I don’t mind working with her.”
I turned toward him.
“I mind working with you.”
“Unfortunately for you, the feeling isn’t mutual.”
Our lecturer continued as if we weren’t arguing.
“You will work together for the next six weeks. Your project presentation will count toward your final grade.”
Six weeks.
I stared at Damien.
He smiled.
Six weeks with my worst enemy.
Perfect.
⸻
After class, I packed my books as quickly as possible.
Damien walked over.
“So, partner.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What should I call you?”
“Nothing.”
He laughed.
“We need to discuss the project.”
“We can do that without talking to each other.”
“That’s going to be difficult.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive.”
I walked away.
He followed.
“Library. Four o’clock.”
I stopped.
“Excuse me?”
“We’re meeting at four.”
“You decided that?”
“Yes.”
I turned around.
“You’re not my boss.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“But apparently I’m the only one taking this project seriously.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Four o’clock.”
“Four.”
He smiled.
Then walked away.
I hated that smile.
I hated how confident he always looked.
And most of all, I hated the strange feeling I got whenever his eyes stayed on me for too long.
⸻
At exactly four, I walked into the library.
Damien was already there.
Of course.
He had his laptop open and several books spread across the table.
I sat opposite him.
“You’re early.”
He looked up.
“You’re late.”
“It’s four.”
“It’s 4:03.”
I stared at him.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“I know.”
I opened my notebook.
“Let’s just finish this.”
For the next thirty minutes, we actually worked.
No arguing.
No insults.
Just silence.
It was strange.
Until I reached for my pen.
It wasn’t there.
I searched through my bag.
Nothing.
Damien silently pushed a pen toward me.
I looked at it.
“How did you know I needed one?”
“You always lose your pens.”
I froze.
“What?”
He looked down at his laptop.
“Nothing.”
I stared at him.
He knew I always lost my pens?
I didn’t remember ever telling him that.
I picked up the pen.
“Thanks.”
He nodded.
A few minutes later, I rubbed my forehead.
Damien looked up.
“You have a headache?”
I frowned.
“How do you know?”
“You’ve been rubbing your forehead for the last five minutes.”
I stopped.
He noticed.
Everything.
I looked at him suspiciously.
“You pay too much attention to me.”
His eyes met mine.
“Maybe.”
My heart skipped.
Then he looked back at his laptop.
“Now stop distracting me.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I’m not the one staring.”
“Sure, Williams.”
I tried to focus on the project again.
But one thought wouldn’t leave my mind.
Why did Damien Carter know so much about me?
And why did it feel like he had been paying attention for much longer than I realized?
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