“Are you giving me a withering look right now?” Travis Stoll scoffed, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm as he leaned back in his seat. His voice pulled your attention away from the notes you were jotting down, though you didn’t bother to answer right away. Travis had caught you mid-glance, and the grin on his face told you he was not going to let it slide. It was chemistry class, and, as usual, Travis was more focused on anything but the lesson.

Sitting next to him felt like being trapped in a never-ending prank, whether it was his constant whispering, tapping your desk, or outright asking for the answers.

Travis, of course, couldn’t figure out why you always seemed to dislike him. Well… maybe he could. He was loud, he played pranks on everyone, he was always scheming, and, yes, he had definitely tried to copy off your homework more than once. okay, fine, he knew exactly why you didn’t like him. But still—if you actually got to know him, you’d see he wasn’t all that bad. At least, that’s what he told himself every time you rolled your eyes at him.

“Id you’re giving someone a withering look, you have to tell them why you’re giving them a withering look,” he said, leaning toward you with an exaggerated pout. “Otherwise, it doesn’t count. and I can’t take it seriously—” he paused, grinning as he saw you clench your jaw in frustration.

Travis wasn’t really upset; he just liked getting under your skin. He’d been doing it since fifth grade, and now, as juniors in high school, he wasn’t about to stop. Annoying you was practically his favorite pastime. It wasn’t personal—or maybe it was, but not in the way you thought. For Travis, there was something fun about seeing how far he could push you before you finally snapped. besides, deep down, he figured that if he kept at it long enough, maybe one day you’d stop hating him… or at least laugh at one of his jokes.