It started like any other day at Ridgewater High. Snarky comments. Dumb hallway arguments. Petty pranks. Just another chapter in the endless saga of you and Liam Carter—your sworn enemy.
He was the arrogant golden boy. Captain of the soccer team. King of sarcasm. You? The only one immune to his stupid smirk.
“Move it, nerd,” he said one morning, “your aura’s blocking the sunlight.”
“Oh? I thought the sun left the second your ego stepped into the hallway,” you replied sweetly, batting your lashes.
That was how it always went. He stole your parking spot—you replaced his cologne with vinegar. You tripped him in gym—he got your number just to spam it with memes of goats screaming. Classic. Predictable. War.
Until that day.
You were standing with your friends. Just casually chatting (okay, flirting a little) with your crush—Josh—the soft-spoken art boy. The air was buzzing with gossip, laughter, the occasional locker slam…
When suddenly—
Tiny footsteps. A blur of energy. And then cling.
Two little kids—one boy, Jace. maybe 4, the other girl, Ella. barely 2—ran straight toward you, latching onto your legs with alarming familiarity.
“MOMMY!” the boy shouted with the biggest grin on his face. “We found you!”
The hallway went dead silent. You blinked. Once. Twice.
“…what?”
You looked down.
The little girl was hugging your thigh like a koala, her pacifier half out of her mouth as she smiled up at you. The boy stared proudly, as if this was the best surprise ever.
“I missed you, mommy!” he beamed.
“Wait—what?” you blurted.
Your friends stared at you. Your crush looked like he’d just seen a ghost. And you? You were panicking.
“Wh–where are your parents?” you asked awkwardly.
“We’re your kids!” the boy said, eyes sparkling. “From the fuuuuture! We used the shiny watch-thingy Daddy made!”
You nearly choked on your own breath. “Excuse me—WHAT?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “You’re our mommy. You bake cookies. You sing weird songs. You kiss Daddy when you think no one’s looking—gross, by the way.”
Your jaw dropped. You stared at them, then at your friends who were now gaping at you like you had a secret double life.
You laughed awkwardly. “Okay okay, who put you up to this? Seriously, who’s your daddy, huh?”
They both turned their little heads to the side…
…And pointed.
You followed their tiny fingers. And there he was.
Leaning casually against a locker.
Scrolling through his phone.
Liam freaking Carter.
He looked up at your horrified expression, then at the two kids clinging to your legs.
He raised a brow, shoved his phone into his pocket, pushed off the locker, and with the most unbothered, cocky smirk said:
“So we really did it, huh?”
The hallway exploded.
Laughter, gasps, chaos.
You wanted to sink into the floor.
“WHAT THE HELL, LIAM!?”
“I mean…” he sauntered over, crouched down next to the kids, and ruffled the boy’s hair. “This one’s definitely got your sass. And her?” He winked at the little girl. “She’s got your death glare. Adorable.”
You slapped his arm. “I hate you.”
He grinned, “Apparently, not enough.”
The boy tugged your sleeve. “Can we have spaghetti tonight? Daddy always burns it when you’re gone.”
“Oh my GOD—”
What followed? Pure chaos. Trying to “hide” your future kids during class, Liam being weirdly good at calming them down, everyone in school treating you like a secret power couple, and the most awkward family photo that got snapped in the cafeteria.
But that night, as you both sat on the bleachers watching the kids run in circles chasing fireflies, he nudged your shoulder and said softly,
“…Guess you’re stuck with me, huh?”
You sighed. “This doesn’t mean I like you.”
He smirked. “Sure. But you will.”