If Aria Whitmore believed in omens, the fact that she was about to meet Kai Blackwell at a coffee shop to "plan their future" would've been all the proof she needed that this semester was cursed from the start.
The line at Kerckhoff Coffee House snaked out the door and halfway to the quad, a parade of finals-week zombies clutching oversized lattes like lifelines. The air thrummed with the desperate energy of students running on caffeine and anxiety, laptop keyboards clicking in frantic rhythm against the backdrop of grinding espresso machines.
Aria stood in line, death-gripping her color-coded binder and practicing her breathing exercises. In for four, hold for four, out for four. She was here for strategic planning, not bloodshed. Professional collaboration, not personal warfare.
She could do this. She had to do this.
Kai was already sprawled at a corner table when she finally escaped the line, MacBook Pro open, white earbuds in, drumming his fingers against his coffee cup lid like he was keeping time to some internal soundtrack. His UCLA Football hoodie was unzipped to reveal a fitted black henley that probably cost more than her textbooks, and he looked so perfectly at ease it made her teeth clench.
"You're twelve minutes late," he said without glancing up from his screen, voice carrying that casual authority that came from never having to apologize for taking up space.
"I had Organic Chemistry lab," Aria replied, sliding into the chair across from him and setting her binder down with deliberate precision. "You know, those required courses for people who actually plan to use their degrees?"
Kai tugged one earbud free, finally looking at her with those dark eyes that always seemed to be laughing at some private joke. "Relax, sunshine. It's not brain surgery."
Her jaw tightened. "For me, it basically is. If I don't maintain a 3.8 GPA, I lose my scholarship. If I lose my scholarship, I drop out. So forgive me if I take our academic partnership seriously."
Something flickered across his expression—surprise, maybe, at her blunt honesty—but then the trademark smirk returned. "Wow. No pressure at all, huh?"
Aria exhaled through her nose, grabbed her vanilla latte for courage, and flipped open her binder to the meticulously organized Paris section. "Here's our preliminary outline. If we stick to this timeline and hit these cultural markers, we can maximize our academic impact while—"
"Whoa, hold up." Kai spun his laptop toward her, revealing what looked like a half-finished blog post with photos of street art and musicians. "No offense, but this is... intense. We should keep things loose, you know? Talk to people, improvise, go with the flow. Audiences connect with authentic experiences, not spreadsheets."
Aria's pulse spiked like she'd mainlined espresso. Loose?Improvise? Was he actively trying to sabotage her future?
"Authentic doesn't get grades," she said, stabbing a highlighted bullet point with her pen hard enough to tear the paper. "Structure works. Planning works. Some of us can't coast on natural charm and trust fund safety nets."
The words hung in the air between them, sharper than she'd intended.
Kai's easy smile vanished, replaced by something colder and more focused. "Wow. You really do think you're better than everyone else, don't you?"
"No—I think I actually work for what I have!" Her voice rose above the coffee shop's ambient noise, drawing glances from nearby tables. "I think I've earned the right to expect basic professionalism from my academic partner!"
"Academic partner?" Kai leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Lady, we're going to Europe together for four months. If you think we can survive that with color-coded schedules and corporate PowerPoints, you're delusional."
Aria's hand jerked in frustration, her latte tilting dangerously—
And then physics took over. Twenty ounces of vanilla latte cascaded across the table in slow motion, flooding directly onto Kai's open laptop.
The coffee shop went silent except for the hiss of milk steamers and Kai's creative string of curses.
"Oh my God!" Aria lunged forward with napkins, frantically dabbing at the spreading puddle. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—this is exactly what I was trying to avoid—"
"Hey, relax, sunshine." Kai's voice carried that same mocking tone as he pulled the laptop away from her desperate cleanup efforts. "I've got it handled."
Too late, she realized what he was doing. His fingers moved across the trackpad with deliberate precision, clicking through menus while coffee dripped from the keyboard.
"Wait, don't touch anything until we can—"
Her presentation folder icon blinked once. Twice.
And disappeared.
Aria's world stopped. "What... what did you just do?"
Kai leaned back with a satisfied expression, wiping his hands on a napkin. "Accidentally deleted your presentation while trying to save my laptop from drowning. Oops."
The casual cruelty of it hit her like a physical blow. "That was three weeks of work! My entire research outline!"
"Should have backed it up," he said with a shrug that made her want to scream.
"You—" Aria's voice cracked as the reality sank in. "You did that on purpose. You deleted my work because I spilled coffee on your precious laptop."
"Prove it."
The challenge in his voice sent her over the edge. Three years of perfect grades, sixty-hour work weeks, sleeping in the library because her dorm was too noisy—all of it threatened by one careless, entitled boy who treated her dreams like a joke.
"You're impossible!" The words exploded out of her, loud enough to turn heads throughout the coffee shop. "You don't care about responsibility, or respect, or anything beyond your own convenience! You just coast through life because the world makes everything easy for golden boys like you!"
"And you're wound so tight you couldn't have fun if someone gave you detailed instructions!" Kai shot back, his own voice rising to match hers. "Some of us don't need to micromanage every breath we take!"
Phone cameras started tilting in their direction. A barista behind the counter whispered to her coworker, "Are they seriously fighting over homework?"
Aria's face burned with humiliation, but she couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. "You don't understand what it's like to actually need this! My scholarship covers everything—tuition, housing, books, even my meal plan. If I slip even once, if my grades drop even slightly, I'm done. Do you understand that? Done. Back to working double shifts at a diner instead of saving lives."
The raw vulnerability in her voice seemed to echo in the sudden quiet that followed. She'd laid herself completely bare in front of a room full of strangers and the one person who seemed determined to destroy everything she'd worked for.
For the first time since she'd known him, Kai didn't look cocky or amused. He looked genuinely confused, maybe even guilty. Like he was seeing her as an actual person instead of just an obstacle to his good time.
But before she could decide whether she wanted to apologize or throw her empty cup at his head, a familiar voice cut through the tension like silk.
"Well," Blake Sterling drawled from somewhere behind her, his cultured voice carrying just the right note of amused concern. "That certainly explains a lot."
Aria's stomach dropped to her shoes. She turned to find Blake standing near the counter with a to-go cup in hand, his perfectly styled blonde hair and immaculate button-down making him look like he'd stepped out of a catalog. His blue eyes held a calculating gleam that made her skin crawl.
He'd heard everything. Every desperate, humiliating word about her scholarship, her financial situation, her complete dependence on academic success.
Blake's smile was sympathetic and predatory all at once, and Aria realized with growing horror that she'd just handed her biggest weakness to someone who collected vulnerabilities like trophies.