My Enemy’s Secret Obsession

The first time I saw Damien Carter that morning, he was standing beside my car. And he was holding my keys. I stopped dead. For three seconds, I simply stared at him. Then I looked at my empty hand. Then back at him. “Give me my keys.” Damien glanced down at them as if he’d forgotten he was holding them. Then that irritating smile appeared. “Good morning to you too, Williams.” “Damien.” “Amara.” “Why are you standing beside my car?” “Waiting for you.” My eyebrows pulled together. “Why?” He shrugged. “I wanted to see you.” I almost laughed. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve said this week.” “It’s Monday.” “Exactly.” He chuckled. I hated that sound. I hated his stupid confidence. I hated the way he always looked like he’d already won an argument before it even started. Most of all, I hated the fact that after two years of being enemies, he still knew exactly how to get under my skin. “Give me the keys.” Instead of answering, he held them up between two fingers. “You’ve changed your perfume.” I froze. “What?” “Your perfume.” His eyes moved briefly over my face. “Different from last semester.” My stomach tightened. I forced a laugh. “Do you spend your free time studying me?” “Sometimes.” The answer came too quickly. My smile disappeared. “You’re weird.” “Probably.” “Give me my keys.” He finally dropped them into my palm. Our fingers brushed. I pulled my hand away immediately. Damien noticed. Of course he noticed. His mouth curved into a small smile. “You still do that.” “Do what?” “Pull away whenever I get too close.” I stared at him. “I pull away because I don’t like you.” “That’s what you tell yourself.” I opened my mouth to respond. A voice interrupted us. “Amara!” I turned. Maya was hurrying toward us, her bag hanging from one shoulder. She stopped when she saw Damien. “Oh.” Damien smiled. “Good morning, Maya.” She looked between us. “Why are you two standing here?” “Nothing,” I said. “She was waiting for me,” Damien said at the exact same time. I turned sharply toward him. “I was absolutely not waiting for you.” “I know.” “Then why did you say that?” “Because you looked cute when you got angry.” Maya’s eyes widened. I felt heat crawl up my neck. “You’re unbelievable.” I grabbed my bag and walked away. Maya followed immediately. “Girl.” “Don’t.” “What?” “Don’t say anything.” She was quiet for two seconds. Then— “Did Damien Carter just call you cute?” I groaned. “Please.” “No, seriously. What is happening?” “Nothing is happening.” “He’s been bothering you since first year, but today he’s suddenly noticing your perfume and calling you cute?” “He likes annoying me.” Maya slowed down. “Maybe.” I looked at her. “What?” She glanced behind us. Damien was still standing beside my car. And he was watching us. Not smiling. Just watching. Maya turned back to me. “That boy doesn’t look like someone who’s trying to annoy you.” I scoffed. “Then what does he look like?” She lowered her voice. “Like someone who’s waiting for something.” I looked back. But Damien had already disappeared. ⸻ By the time we reached the lecture hall, I had almost convinced myself to forget the whole thing. Almost. I took my usual seat near the window and pulled out my notebook. Then I noticed something. A folded piece of paper was lying inside it. I frowned. I hadn’t put it there. I opened it. There were only four words. Don’t wear blue tomorrow. My heart skipped. I looked at Maya. “Did you put this here?” She shook her head. “No.” I looked around the lecture hall. Students were still coming in. Nobody seemed interested in me. Nobody except— Damien. He was sitting at the back. His eyes were already on me. I quickly folded the paper. He smiled. Not his usual teasing smile. Something quieter. Something that made my stomach twist. I stood up and walked toward him. “What is this?” He looked at the paper in my hand. Then at me. “What?” I placed it on his desk. “Did you write this?” His eyes dropped to the note. For the first time that morning, Damien didn’t have an answer. He picked it up. Read it. And his expression changed. “Where did you get this?” “Inside my notebook.” He looked at me. “Who else has access to your notebook?” “I don’t know.” His jaw tightened. “Don’t wear blue tomorrow.” I stared at him. “What?” “Whatever you do, don’t wear blue.” “Why?” He stood. His face was suddenly serious. “Just trust me.” I laughed nervously. “Trust you?” “Yes.” “You’re the last person on this campus I’d trust.” “I know.” He stepped closer. His voice dropped. “And that’s exactly why I’m asking you.” Before I could respond, the lecturer walked into the room. Everyone rushed to their seats. Damien returned to his. I remained standing for a moment, staring at him. He didn’t look at me again. But his hands were clenched beneath the desk. Something was wrong. I just didn’t know what. ⸻ That night, I stood in front of my wardrobe. My eyes landed on the blue dress hanging in the middle. I hadn’t planned to wear it. Not until Damien mentioned it. I reached for it. Then stopped. Why should I listen to him? He was my enemy. He had been my enemy for two years. He’d embarrassed me, challenged me, competed with me, and somehow always managed to get the last word. I wasn’t going to let him control what I wore. I took the dress from the hanger. “Fine.” I smiled at my reflection. “Tomorrow, I’m wearing blue.” My phone buzzed. Unknown number. I frowned and opened the message. I warned you. My smile disappeared. Another message arrived. If you wear that dress tomorrow, Damien won’t be the only person watching you. I stared at the screen. My fingers went cold. Then another message appeared. Ask him what happened two years ago. I stopped breathing. Because there was only one thing that had happened two years ago. The thing neither Damien nor I ever talked about. The reason we became enemies in the first place. And somehow… someone else knew about it. I looked at the blue dress hanging beside me. For the first time, I wondered if Damien hadn’t been trying to annoy me that morning. Maybe he’d been trying to protect me. And if that was true… **who was he protecting me from?