chapter 2 jack

The best part about Lara Kingsley?

She's predictable.

She walks into a room and immediately

starts looking for ways to make my life difficult. If she can't find one, she

creates one. It's almost admirable.

Almost.

But the real fun? Watching her lose.

Take today, for example.

Chemistry

Class – 9:30 AM

Lara's face when Mr. Dawson said we were

partners? Priceless.

I lean back in my chair, stretching out like I

own the place. "Oh no, Lara. We're partners. We should make the most of

it."

Her eye twitches. Fantastic.

"You will blow up the lab,"

she says, "and I refuse to die next to you."

I smile. "So dramatic."

What she doesn't know is—I'm actually

good at chemistry. But it's more fun to let her think I'll burn the school

down.

For now.

Cafeteria –12:15 PM

The second I walk in, I see it.

My chair. Taken.

By her bag.

I stop. Lara meets my eyes and takes the slowest bite of her sandwich. Like she just won something.

Cute.

I walk over, pick up her bag, and shove it

in the janitor's closet.

The moment I close the door, I hear a choked

gasp.

"You PSYCHOPATH!"

I turn, facing Lara's absolute fury.

"Give it back!"

I shrug. "You took my seat."

"SO YOU TOOK MY BAG?!"

"Actions have consequences."

She stares at me, eyes burning.

"You," she says, voice deadly, "have consequences."

I smirk. "I'd love to see them."

Oh, this is fun.

Student Council Elections – 3:45 PM

I could have played fair.

But where's the fun in that?

When Lara steps up to the podium, all prim

and polished, I already know what's coming—some inspiring, heartwarming

speech about how she'll "change the school."

Boring.

So, naturally, I rigged the intercom.

"Lara Kingsley is the WORST partner in chemistry class—"

The auditorium erupts. Lara's mouth drops

open.

She turns, eyes blazing.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU."

I bow slightly. "Then I guess I won't be

voting for you."

The best part?

She'll spend all night plotting revenge.

And I can't wait.

Next day

History Class – 10:00 AM

Mr. Callahan claps his hands together.

"Surprise pop quiz!"

Lara visibly perks up. Of course she's

ready. I'm not.

But here's the thing—I'm great at improvising.

When Callahan turns around, I casually

swap our papers.

Lara looks down at the blank sheet in

front of her. Then at me.

"Jack."

I don't look up. "Hmm?"

"Give. It. Back."

I lean back in my chair, stretching like I

have all the time in the world. "I would, but you know me. I'm just

so bad at history."

Her jaw clenches.

"Fine," she says sweetly. "You

can keep my paper."

I blink. Suspicious. "…Really?"

She smiles.

Then, loudly: "Mr. Callahan? Jack

stole my test!"

The entire class turns.

I grin. "Lara, you wound me."

"GO TO HELL."

"After you."

Gym Class – 1:30 PM

Coach decides today's sport is dodgeball.

Lara and I are on opposite teams. She cackles.

"You're dead, Jack."

I smirk. "I'll give you one shot,

Kingsley."

The second Coach blows the whistle, she

lunges.

The ball whizzes past my face.

Then another. And another.

"Jumpy?" I tease.

Her glare could set a forest on fire.

Then—THWACK.

I barely dodge the next one. But she

doesn't stop. She's actually trying to kill me.

I can't help it. I laugh.

And that just makes her angrier.

Detention – 4:00 PM

We're both here. Obviously.

Lara's arms are crossed, leg bouncing

aggressively. "This is your fault."

I lean back in my chair, satisfied.

"You're the one with anger issues."

She throws her pen at my head.

I dodge, grinning.

We're absolutely ruining each other's

lives.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Lara walks into the

cafeteria, tray in hand. Her usual spot? Taken.

By me.

I sit back, completely

at ease. "Hey, Kingsley. Didn't see your name on the seat."

Her eyes narrow.

"Move."

I take a bite of my apple. "Nah, I think I'll stay."

She tilts her head, smiles sweetly, then—

Picks up my tray and dumps my entire lunch onto my lap.

The cafeteria erupts.

"Oops," she says. "Didn't see your name on the food."

I wipe mashed potatoes

off my jeans, nodding slowly. "You wanna play, Kingsley?"

"I always play, Carter."

The war continues.

Neither of us planned on going to homecoming. But then? Coach decided the perfect punishment for our latest detention was forcing us to plan it.

Which means decorations.

Seating charts. Coordinating. Together.

Absolute hell.

"I'm thinking gold and black," I say, flipping through color swatches.

Lara doesn't look up.

"And I'm thinking I hate you."

I smirk. "You love me."

Her grip on the marker tightens.

We spend the next hour arguing over everything. Table placements? A fight. The song list? A bigger

fight.

Until finally, I snap.

"You know what? Fine. We'll do it your way."

She pauses.

"Wait. What?"

I lean in, grinning.

"blue and white it is. Wouldn't want you crying over color swatches."

She blinks. Suspicious.

"You're agreeing… just like that?"

I shrug. "Sure. I love it when you win."

Lara's eyes narrow.

"You suck."

"I know."