If there was one thing Aria Velasquez knew with absolute certainty, it was this:
The universe hated her.
Not mildly. Not casually.
Deeply. Personally.
Because the day after Noah’s hallway ambush, she walked into her third-period class — Argumentation & Debate — expecting a normal lesson…
And instead found her teacher, Ms. Prado, wearing the smile of someone about to destroy lives.
“Good morning, class,” Ms. Prado said warmly. “As you know, the National Scholastic Debate Competition is approaching.”
Aria straightened.
Debate was her thing.
Her stage.
Her battlefield.
She always dominated.
Noah, unfortunately, also dominated.
Which was why Aria made sure to sit on the opposite side of the room from him every single period.
She didn’t even look at him today.
She refused.
Ms. Prado continued, “This year, I’ll be assigning partners.”
Several groans echoed.
Aria froze.
Partners?
No. She always competed solo. She needed to compete solo. She did not trust anyone to match her level of work.
Ms. Prado clapped once. “I’ve paired students based on compatible skill levels.”
Aria’s heart thudded.
Lanie whispered from the desk behind her, “If you get paired with someone who panics during presentations, I will physically drag Noah to take your place.”
Aria elbowed her.
“Don’t joke about that,” she hissed.
“Why? Afraid of manifesting?”
“Lanie—!”
“Alright!” Ms. Prado said cheerfully. “First pair: Ethan and Mia.”
Normal.
Harmless.
Aria relaxed a little.
“Next pair… Aria Velasquez and—”
PLEASE not him.
Anyone but him.
Anyone.
Even a potted plant would do.
“—Noah Kingsley.”
Aria’s soul left her body.
The class erupted.
“Oh my god.”
“They’re gonna kill each other.”
“How is Ms. Prado this brave?”
“Bro, we need popcorn.”
Aria slowly turned her head toward Noah.
He was already looking at her.
Of course he was.
And the smirk on his face was lethal.
He tilted his head, mouthing silently:
Lucky you.
Aria mouthed back:
I hate you.
Noah mouthed:
You wish.
Lanie squealed behind her. “Oh my gosh, this is incredible.”
“This is a nightmare,” Aria corrected, gripping her pencil tight enough to snap it.
Ms. Prado waved for attention. “Calm down, class. I paired Aria and Noah because they are equally skilled. I expect extraordinary work from both of you.”
Aria raised her hand. “Ms. Prado, with all due respect, I don’t think—”
“Denied,” Ms. Prado said instantly without looking up from her attendance sheet.
Noah laughed quietly from across the aisle.
Aria glared at him so hard she could have melted glass.
---
THE ASSIGNMENT
When class ended, Ms. Prado called Aria and Noah to her desk.
They stood shoulder-to-shoulder but refused to look at each other.
“Your topic,” Ms. Prado said, handing them a folder, “is The Impact of Modern Technology on Personal Relationships.”
Aria nodded tightly. “We’ll do well.”
“Oh, I know you will,” Ms. Prado said, smiling too sweetly. “The question is whether you’ll do it without killing each other.”
Noah lifted a brow. “No promises.”
Aria elbowed him in the ribs.
He didn’t flinch — but he definitely noticed.
Ms. Prado sighed. “Good luck, you two. And please… try not to set my classroom on fire.”
As they walked out, Aria snatched the folder from Noah’s hand.
“Hey,” he said. “I was reading that.”
“And now I’m reading it.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You’re annoying.”
“You’re short.”
She stopped walking, horrified. “Take that back.”
Noah grinned. “Make me.”
Aria inhaled sharply through her nose. “We are not doing this.”
“We’ve been doing this since freshman year.”
“We’re older now.”
“Are we?”
Aria clenched her jaw. “Listen, Kingsley. We are going to work on this project professionally.”
“Professionally,” Noah repeated, nodding seriously. “Got it.”
“Meaning no insults—”
“Okay.”
“No mocking—”
“Sure.”
“No ego—”
“Impossible.”
She glared.
He shrugged. “I’m just being honest.”
“Try being quiet instead.”
“I’m allergic to that.”
Aria nearly screamed.
---
THE FIRST WORK SESSION
They met after school in the library — neutral territory, but barely.
Aria arrived early, spreading out her highlighters, graph-lined notebook, laptop, binder of organized research, backup binder, and emergency binder.
She was ready.
Prepared.
Focused.
Until Noah walked in at exactly 3:30 p.m.
He dropped into the seat across from her, placing only a single notebook and pencil on the table.
Aria stared.
“Is that all you brought?”
“It’s all I need.”
She snorted. “No wonder you’re so insufferably confident.”
Noah leaned back. “Why? Does it bother you?”
“What bothers me is your face.”
“My face?”
“It looks smug.”
“It’s just my face.”
“Well, fix it.”
He grinned. “Can’t.”
Aria took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s start. We need to outline—”
“Already did,” Noah interrupted, flipping his notebook open.
Aria blinked.
His notes were neat. Organized. Thorough.
Annoyingly good.
She hated that.
She hated that he was competent.
“We can combine your structure with my research,” he said. “Write the introduction together. Split the main points, then finalize everything by Friday.”
Aria hesitated.
He was… making sense.
Which somehow annoyed her even more.
“Fine,” she said. “Let’s do it that way.”
For ten whole minutes, they worked in silence.
No insults.
No glaring.
No bitterness.
Just silent, productive focus.
It felt… strange.
Almost peaceful.
But naturally — fate couldn’t allow that to last.
As Aria leaned forward to grab a reference book, her hand brushed Noah’s.
She froze.
He froze.
Their eyes met.
For half a second — one tiny, stupid, dangerous second — the air shifted.
Something warm and electric flickered between them.
Then Noah broke the silence.
“Watch where you’re reaching,” he said lightly.
The moment died.
Aria rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw her skull. “Watch where your hand is.”
“It was my book.”
“You don’t own knowledge, Kingsley.”
“You sure?”
Aria exhaled loudly. “We’re done for today.”
“We barely started.”
“And yet I’m already done.”
Noah laughed quietly, pushing back his chair. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Unfortunately,” she muttered.
As she packed her bags, Noah looked at her for a moment — really looked at her — as if trying to understand something he’d never admit out loud.
Aria noticed.
And she hated that she did.
When they parted ways outside the library, Noah called out:
“Aria.”
She stopped but didn’t turn.
“Try not to lose sleep stressing about being my partner.”
“I don’t lose sleep over you,” she shot back.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Really sure?”
She turned and glared at him. “Go home, Kingsley.”
He grinned and walked away.
And once again, Aria felt that tiny spark inside her chest — the one she refused to acknowledge.
She didn’t miss him.
She didn’t like him.
She didn’t care.
It was just rivalry.
Just competition.
Just—
Probably.
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