Notes: This originally started as an imagine story, but I’m filing under romance books since it’s much longer with multiple parts/chapters. While it still remains unfinished, I hope to complete this in the future. I originally wrote this in second person, but I’m switching to first person pov. y/n= insert your name, e/n= insert your enemy’s name.
I’m in history class, and the teacher is picking partners to work on projects together. He has only a few more left, and it’s coming down to me and only a tiny selection of students.
And there’s one name I absolutely don’t want.
“Please not e/n, please not e/n, anyone but him,” I quietly chant to myself.
The teacher looks at his notepad, squinting, and then says, “The next group will be Y/n and E/n!”
At the other end of the room, E/n’s friends all laugh aloud. E/n closes his eyes and makes a face like he’s pained by the news.
To his credit, at least he’s not laughing at me like his friends.
My shoulders slump, and I roll my eyes.
Well, he’s not the only one.
After class, he comes up to me. He’s so tall I have to angle my head to look up at him. “Y/n, I guess we should get this over with? My house?” he asks.
His house? Is he serious? My entire body vibrates with anger.
I raise my chin, stabbing him with my eyes. “You know I can’t go there.”
He looks away, and I suddenly wonder if he remembers.
I’ve never forgotten it, but I push it away.
“I guess we can meet at my house after school.” I grumble. But then I realize my house is a total mess.
But it’s not just that.
I’m embarrassed for him to see it because my family is poor.
And he’s a rich guy.
I roll on the balls of my feet. “Um… on second thought, we can meet at a coffee shop?”
He puts his hands in his pockets and studies me but doesn’t answer right away.
He knits his dark eyebrows together that frame his annoyingly handsome face. And I wonder what he’s thinking at this moment. Is he remembering what happened long ago? “I can do that. See you then, y/n.”
When he walks away, I let out a huge, trembling breath that I didn’t even know I was holding in.
And I’m dreading this afternoon.
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