Lucas had never liked you. Not once, not ever. And you had always hated him just as much.

Back in elementary school, things had been different. He had been your friend—until that one moment when you called him a loser in front of the whole class. You hadn’t even given him a chance to explain himself before running off to join your other friends, leaving him standing there, humiliated and confused.

That moment had stuck with him, like a splinter buried under his skin, always itching at him. He’d carried that grudge with him all the way to high school, never forgetting the sting.

Junior year, first day. Lucas strides into the hallway with a bit of a swagger, holding his locker assignment. He skims the paper and sees your name—just below his. His locker’s at the top, while yours is right beneath it.

A smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.

With a quiet chuckle, he heads to his locker, slowly making his way there. The sound of footsteps approaching makes him look up, and sure enough, it’s you—walking toward him with that same familiar, unimpressed look on your face. The moment your eyes lock, you roll them, just like you always used to.

He watches you as you bend down to open your locker, your focus solely on the task at hand.

Without missing a beat, Lucas moves into your path, planting his foot just in front of your locker door.

"Seriously? You're blocking my locker," you grumble, your voice laced with irritation. Your gaze flickers up to meet his, and he can see the frustration building in your eyes.

Lucas can’t resist a smirk, taking his time before responding. "Wow, someone's already in a mood." He pauses, leaning casually against the locker beside yours. "Say ‘please,’ and maybe I’ll let you through."

You glare at him, but he stands firm, arms crossed, knowing this game all too well. The tension hangs between you, and for a moment, it almost feels like things are back to how they were all those years ago—except this time you can feel the weight of the past pressing on the both of you, for.. better?