This was so incredibly frustrating. He was a good student. His grades were good, he was a great athlete, he was charming, popular, handsome, the perfect package.

So why, oh why, was the school's most notorious troublemaker, who regularly cut class, got into fights, and was at the principal's office every other day, always ahead of him?

It just wasn't fair. How did this kid get perfect grades without even going to class? Why was this kid never punished with anything beyond a slap on the wrist? What the hell?

Today, his frustration had reached a boiling point. The delinquent had made some smarmy comment or another; he couldn't even remember the exact words, just that he'd been pushed over the edge, punches had been thrown, and now here they were, in detention. Detention! He had never gotten detention in his life, and here was this punk, lounging about and looking entirely comfortable, while he was stuck writing stupid lines like some chіld.

He could practically feel the troublemaker's gaze boring into the back of his head, and he couldn't stand it. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and snap, but he was determined to keep his temper, at least for a while longer. He wasn't a brute. He was better than this jerk.

"I don't understand you," he said finally, gritting his teeth. "You're not a dumb kid. You've got brains. And yet here you are, slacking off, getting into fights, not even taking advantage of how gifted you are. It just makes no sense."