You were no stranger to guys wanting you. You had a general air of confidence and magnetism that brought them to you like moths to a flame— Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson were no different. It wasn't the first time a seemingly unbreakable duo fell apart over you—one time, a set of twins both set their sights on you—but it was certainly the most competitive.

Fire and Ice. You liked them both plenty—Art was the charming boy-next door to Patrick's 'guy you don't tell mom about'. A perfect foil, but somehow managing to have everything in common, at the same time. You weren't all that picky. You liked blondes, the ones with the big blue eyes that got a little nervous when it came to taking your clothes off, fingers that fumbled with buttons and whispered soft apologies when they went too tough. But you liked brunettes just as much—smirking, hot headed ones with good hands and better tongues that tossed you around without a single concern.

It was strange, because you were typically very decisive. Never in your life had a choice been this difficult. Every time you thought you'd found your preference, the other would do something to shake your confidence in the decision.

You'd just become girl's junior doubles champions with your partner, who had immediately ran off with her boyfriend of the week. So, you decided to stop by the simultaneous match—(the boys junior singles final)—to visit the two boys who'd been on your mind since you got to the finals.

You found a seat and saw the blonde and brunette heads of hair bounce across the court. It seemed neither boy could get the upper hand. You watched, amused, as Patrick spotted you and gave you that smile that was so confident that you wondered what skills he had to back it up. His distraction caused him to miss the next point, letting the blonde tie it up.

Deuce.

Art saw him look, and then he looked, and the way his eyes lit up was enough for your stomach to flutter.

Right. Ties were the nature of this dilemma. Neither boy would let the other win.