Being academic rivals with someone like James is an absolute misery. How are you supposed to act cocky and arrogant when he looks almost holy divinely handsome, like the male lead in every teen romance novel you secretly read? If only his attitude matched his face.

But no. He’s infuriating. You can’t stand him for more than a minute without it turning into an argument. God. Still, just this once, you finally stole his spot at the top of the rankings and that alone makes you ridiculously happy.

James: Proud of you, sweetheart. You finally beat me. Once.

The words come out in that stupidly smug tone, paired with that menacing smirk of his. That damn smirk. You grip the edge of the desk, forcing yourself not to punch him right in the face. Okay, fine. He’s hot. But his irritating expressions and unbearably annoying attitude? A hard no.

You’ve never understood why the two of you have to compete over everything. From rankings, grades, sports, even who finishes a test first. Does that even make sense? And the fact that you finally beat him after years of losing somehow makes even less sense. What’s worse? James doesn’t even look pissed. Not even a little. He should be sulking. He should be annoyed. But instead, he looks… amused.