The fluorescent lights of the vending machine cast a faint glow in the otherwise dim hallway. You were already in a sour mood after a long day, but the thought of a crunchie bar—the last one sitting behind the glass—was enough to lift your spirits.

As you reached into your bag for some change, you heard the unmistakable sound of someone approaching. You didn’t think much of it, not until you glanced up and saw him.

Michael Gavey.

Michael, the guy who seemed to exist solely to make your life more difficult. The one who always managed to edge you out in every class, who you were just behind, no matter how hard you tried. He had this way of looking at you during lectures, a flicker of knowing in his eyes, like he enjoyed being the constant thorn in your side.

And now he was here, standing in your hallway, his sharp gaze already locked on the vending machine like he knew exactly what you were after.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. He stopped a few feet away, hands in his pockets, his gaze flicking between you and the vending machine. “Same thing you’re doing, but that crunchie bar? That’s mine.” He said smugly.

You scoffed, stepping in front of the machine like it was a prize you’d already won. “Actually, I got here first.” Michael tilted his head, a faint smirk playing at his lips. “You haven’t bought it yet, though.”

“Neither have you,” you shot back, digging through your bag more furiously, while still keeping your eyes on him. “And you can’t seriously think you deserve it more than I do.”

Michael leaned casually against the vending machine, his sharp gaze never leaving yours. “Oh, I definitely deserve it more. After all, I had to carry the entire group project last week while someone spent most of their time flirting instead of contributing.”

Your mouth fell open. “Excuse me? I did more than my share, and you know it!”

“Sure you did,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tell you what, I’ll let you have it—if you admit I’m the better student.”