The next morning, I arrived at Riverview Academy feeling… unusually tense.
I knew he would be there Adrian, with that smug smirk, those dark, teasing eyes, and the ability to make every girl in the hallway swoon.
I clenched my backpack strap. Today, I refused to let him get under my skin.
I refused.
And yet… there he was, leaning against the lockers like he owned the place. The sunlight hit his skin, making him glow. His hair was perfectly styled, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of chest and of course, his smirk was wide, confident, teasing.
He saw me immediately.
"Well, well," he said softly, tilting his head, "looks like someone's ready for school."
I shot him a glare. "I'm always ready. Unlike you."
He raised an eyebrow. "Ouch. That's harsh. Are you going to fight me verbally today too?"
I squared my shoulders. "Maybe I am."
First period was hell. We were paired again for the science project, forced to sit side by side at the lab table.
Adrian, naturally, leaned just slightly toward me under the pretense of reaching for the microscope. His shoulder brushed mine.
I stiffened.
He noticed. Of course he noticed.
"You're tense," he murmured softly.
I glared at him. "And you're annoying."
He smirked. "You think you're fighting me, but really… you're addicted to watching me."
I wanted to punch him. Instead, I rolled my eyes and tried to focus on the experiment.
Hours passed with him leaning casually close to me, whispering comments I could barely ignore:
"That's not the right angle."
"You missed a step."
"Careful — you might explode from frustration."
I ignored him. I refused to give him satisfaction.
But then… disaster.
During lunch break, Adrian left the classroom briefly. A girl from our biology class the same one he had flirted with before entered the lab quietly.
I froze.
Adrian returned moments later, carrying a tray with his lunch, and of course, he immediately leaned toward her, speaking softly, teasingly.
"You missed a spot in your experiment," he murmured, voice low, playful. She blushed and leaned closer to hear him. His hand brushed hers lightly, deliberately.
I clenched my fists under the table, fury burning through me.
I hated that I couldn't look away.
I hated that my stomach twisted.
I hated him.
And yet… I couldn't stop noticing.
Finally, I had enough.
"Adrian!" I snapped, standing abruptly.
He looked up, smirk widening. "Oh? What's the matter, Chelsea? Jealous?"
I stomped my foot. "You're unbelievable. You flirt with everyone and act like you don't care, and I… I hate it!"
He leaned back, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Hate it? Or… hate that you can't stop noticing?"
I felt my face flush. My chest raced. Rage and frustration tangled with something far more dangerous: undeniable attraction.
"I'm not…!" I stammered, trying to regain control.
"Shhh," he whispered, leaning slightly closer, close enough that I could feel his warmth. "No need to lie. I can tell everything by your eyes, Chelsea."
For the first time, I realized something terrifying: he wasn't just teasing me. He could see right through me. Every glance, every reaction, every heartbeat was open to him.
I slammed my notebook down, trying to shield myself from the magnetic pull he had over me.
"You're impossible," I hissed again, voice trembling.
"And yet," he said, voice low and silky, "you can't stop being affected by me. Admit it."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. I wanted to slap him and tell him to leave me alone.
But I couldn't.
Later, as we walked to the library together for another session, he fell into step beside me, close enough that our arms brushed.
"You know," he murmured, "we make a great team. Even if you don't like me."
"I don't like you," I said sharply.
"Not yet," he whispered, leaning closer, so close I could feel his breath. "But give it time."
I swallowed hard, heart hammering. My face burned.
I hated him. I hated that he could make me feel like this.
And yet… a part of me couldn't stop noticing.
At the library, the teasing continued. Every time I wrote something down, he leaned in, whispering corrections, brushing close enough that my fingers tingled when our hands passed. Every glance from him, every soft smirk, was deliberate, and it was torture.
When I tried to focus, I felt him watching me, dark eyes glinting, reading me like an open book.
"You're very… stubborn," he said softly. "I like that. Makes things… fun."
I glared at him, biting back the shiver that ran through me. "Fun for you, maybe. Not for me."
He leaned back, smirk widening. "Oh, it's fun for both of us. You just don't know it yet."
I slammed my notebook shut, standing abruptly. "I can't… I can't work with you!"
Adrian chuckled softly, voice low and teasing. "Sure you can. You need me. Admit it."
I felt my face burn. I hated that he was right, even in the smallest way.
The library bell rang, signaling the end of the day.
I gathered my things quickly, ignoring his presence as I stalked toward the door.
"Chelsea," he called softly, following me.
I stopped, hands on my bag, glaring. "What?"
"You're too tense," he whispered, stepping close enough that our shoulders brushed. "I like seeing this side of you… angry, frustrated, and helpless. Makes you… interesting."
I shivered despite myself. I hated it. I hated him.
And yet… I couldn't stop thinking about it.
As I left the library, my mind spun.
I hated Adrian.
I hated the way he teased. The way he flirted. The way he made me feel things I didn't want to feel.
And yet… part of me, the part I hated most, was already drawn to him.