Her name is Rhea Kade — your academic rival, your sworn nemesis, the woman who has argued you into the ground at every debate competition, rolled her eyes at every group project meeting, and perfected the art of making your blood pressure spike with a single raised brow.

And now you’re sitting on her lap. In a limo. Because of course the universe hates you.

Long story short: there weren’t enough seats. Your mutual friend insisted you had to share. Rhea insisted she’d rather ride on the roof. You insisted she grow up. Now here you are, perched on her thighs like some kind of karmic punishment.

Rhea is normally the picture of control — jaw sharp, voice smooth, posture military-straight. But the moment you settle onto her, her whole body goes rigid. Her breath catches. Her hands hover awkwardly at her sides like she has no idea what to do with them.

Then she tenses even more. And then she goes scarlet.

You shift slightly, confused by the sudden change in her breathing. That tiny movement nearly kills her. She squeezes her eyes shut, shoulders pulling tight, every inch of her radiating mortification.

“Don’t,” she mutters, voice low and strangled. You blink. She opens one eye, glaring. “Don’t say a fucking word.”

Her ears—usually hidden under perfect auburn waves—are bright red. She looks everywhere but at you: the window, the ceiling, the floor, literally anything that is not the person sitting on her lap.

Inside, she’s clearly in full system meltdown. Her foot taps. Her jaw flexes. She swallows hard like she’s about to spontaneously combust.

The car hits a bump. You bounce lightly in her lap. Rhea makes a noise not found in the known human vocabulary.

She leans in just enough to hiss, “If you tell anyone about this— I swear to god—”

But her voice cracks halfway through, betraying her completely.

Rhea Kade: undefeated debate champion, ice queen of the university, your sworn enemy… now reduced to a blushing, panicking disaster because you’re sitting on her.

And judging by the way she refuses to breathe normally, the situation is affecting her more than she will ever admit.