The first time I noticed him that day, he was laughing.
Not a normal laugh.Not the quiet kind either.
No—this was the loud, careless, everyone-look-at-me kind of laugh that made it impossible to focus.
I pressed my pencil harder against the paper, trying to ignore it. Question three stared back at me like it was judging me. Fractions. Of course.
Behind me, someone whispered something, and then—
"There's no way that's taking you this long."
I froze.
I didn't even have to turn around. I already knew who it was.
Slowly, I looked over my shoulder.
Ethan Cole.
Of course.
He was leaning back in his chair like he didn't have a single worry in the world, one arm slung over the back, pencil spinning between his fingers like he was in some kind of movie. His dark hair was slightly messy—on purpose, probably—and his eyes had that same annoying spark in them.
The one that meant he was about to say something stupid.
I turned back around. "Don't you have something better to do?"
"Not really," he said. "This is way more entertaining."
A couple people nearby snickered. I clenched my jaw.
"Then maybe you should try getting a life," I muttered.
"Ouch," he said, not sounding hurt at all. "And here I thought you liked me."
I spun around fully this time. "In what universe?"
He grinned. "This one. You think about me all the time."
"Yeah," I said flatly. "In the same way people think about mosquitoes."
That got a louder reaction. Someone actually laughed out loud.
For a split second, his smile twitched.
Ha.
But then he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "So I'm always on your mind? That's kinda sweet."
I stared at him. "You're unbelievable."
"And yet, here I am."
Ugh.
I turned back to my work, but now my focus was completely gone. I could feel his eyes on me, like he was waiting for me to mess up or say something else.
Why did he do this?
Out of everyone in the class, why me?
"Do you need help?" he asked suddenly.
I blinked. "What?"
"With the question," he said. "I already finished."
I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not dumb."
"I didn't say you were," he replied, raising his hands slightly. "Just slow."
"Okay, wow."
"I'm kidding," he added quickly—but he was smiling again, so I didn't believe him.
Before I could respond, the teacher's voice cut through the room. "Ethan, if you're done, you can bring your work up."
"Finally," he said, standing up.
As he walked past my desk, he paused for just a second.
I looked up, annoyed.
He glanced down at my paper.
Then, quietly—so only I could hear—he said, "You forgot to flip it."
I frowned. "What?"
But he was already walking away.
I looked back at my work.
Divide the fractions…
Flip the second fraction.
My eyes widened a little.
Oh.
I… actually did forget.
I quickly fixed it, heat creeping up my neck. There was no way I was letting him know he was right.
No. Way.
The bell rang, and the classroom instantly exploded into noise.
Chairs scraping, bags zipping, people talking all at once.
I shoved my notebook into my bag, determined to get out before a certain someone decided to bother me again.
"Hey."
Too late.
I closed my eyes for a second. "Go away."
Ethan fell into step beside me anyway as we walked into the hallway. "Wow, no 'thank you'?"
I frowned. "For what?"
"For helping you."
"I didn't ask for help."
"Yeah, but you needed it."
I stopped walking so suddenly he took another step before realizing.
"I had it," I said.
He tilted his head slightly, studying me. Not in a teasing way this time. More like he was trying to figure something out.
"You're really bad at admitting when you're wrong," he said.
I crossed my arms. "And you're really good at being annoying. Guess we both have talents."
He huffed a small laugh. "Fair."
For a second, neither of us moved.
The hallway buzzed around us—lockers slamming, people shouting, footsteps echoing—but it felt weirdly quiet right there.
"Why do you even talk to me?" I asked, softer this time.
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
His expression changed. Just a little.
No smirk. No joke. Just… him.
"I don't know," he said after a second.
I blinked. That was… unexpected.
Then he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck like he suddenly felt awkward.
"I mean—you're just easy to mess with," he added quickly, the smirk coming back like a mask snapping into place.
There it is.
I rolled my eyes. "Of course."
I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me again.
"Hey."
I didn't turn around this time. "What now?"
"You really didn't know about flipping the fraction?"
I spun back around. "I said I had it!"
"Okay, okay," he said, holding up his hands, laughing. "Relax."
"I am relaxed."
"You don't look relaxed."
"I am—"
"You're doing the thing."
"What thing??"
"The angry face thing."
"I do NOT have an angry face!"
He grinned. "You do it all the time."
I stared at him, completely done. "You're actually the worst person I've ever met."
"Wow," he said. "That hurts."
"It should."
He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice like he was about to tell a secret.
"But I'm your favorite worst person," he said.
My heart did something stupid.
Like a tiny, traitorous flip.
I hated that.
"No," I said quickly. "You're just the worst."
"Sure," he said, clearly not believing me.
For a second, we just stood there again.
And for some reason… neither of us looked away.
Then someone bumped into me from behind, breaking the moment.
I stepped back, grabbing my bag strap tighter.
"Whatever," I muttered. "Bye."
I turned and walked away before he could say anything else.
But even as I disappeared into the crowd, I could feel it—
That weird, annoying, confusing feeling sitting in my chest.
Because as much as I didn't want to admit it…
Ethan Cole wasn't just annoying.
He was… something else.
And I had a feeling—
This whole thing?
Was only going to get worse.