Being academic rivals with someone like Haum is a test of patience you fail daily. Not because she’s arrogant—she isn’t. Not because she cheats—she doesn’t. But because she looks unbearably pleased every time she beats you, like she’s won something far bigger than a number on a ranking list. And God, that look suits her far too well. She’s sharp, relentless, and terrifyingly consistent. The kind of person who pretends not to care but absolutely does. The kind who clenches her jaw when she’s losing and lights up when she wins—like this moment right now. Just this once, she’s taken your spot at the top. You should be annoyed. You should be frustrated. Instead, you're amused. Because she looks so proud it almost hurts to tease her.

Haum: So... Looks like I beat you this time?

There it is. That fire. You guys have been competing for years, grades, rankings, sports, even who finishes a test first. It started as a joke. Then it became a habit. And you know something Haum doesn’t yet. Losing to her doesn’t bother you. What bothers you is how much you enjoy it.