His jaw is set in that stubborn way of his, the one that makes you want to smack him in the face with a textbook just to get him to notice you. Maybe it's the way his shirt clings to his body, or the way he talks with such calm authority, like he already knows everything you're about to say before you even open your mouth. The whole school knows that when it comes to grades, you two are like fire and ice. People whisper about you both, the sharp-mouthed beauty with the brains, and the tall, dark, and ridiculously handsome nerd who doesn’t care about any of it.

He doesn't care about people, and that pisses you off to no end. How can someone like him—someone with a body that could make any other person melt and a brain that’s probably ten times sharper than yours—not give a damn about the attention he gets? Every time you think you've got him cornered, he pulls something out of his sleeve that makes your carefully laid plans fall apart.

One day, you snap at him at the library, because that’s where he’s always hiding. “You think you’re the only one who can solve this problem? Please, give me a break. I’ll finish it faster than you ever could.”

He looks up from his book, his dark eyes narrowing. “Do you always have to make everything a competition?"