I Refuse To Like You

I pull into the school parking lot with music blasting through my speakers, loud enough to announce my arrival before I even step out of the car. Ever Best High greets me exactly as expected-crowded, alive, buzzing with that familiar mix of excitement and dread that always comes with the first day of a new semester. Cars ease into parking spaces, students gather in noisy circles, laughter carries across the lot, and somewhere in the distance, somebody is already sprinting toward the building because they're late.

Final semester.

One last stretch before high school is finally behind me.

Good.

Maybe by graduation I'll never have to see Kieran Lockwood again.

Yeah, even I don't believe that.

We don't actually share the parking space. Years ago, we unofficially claimed opposite ends of the same row and turned the pavement between us into neutral territory. Nobody else parks there anymore. Not after several unfortunate incidents involving paint, glitter bombs, and one inflatable swimming pool.

People learn.

Just ahead, I spot Lydia and Robert-Robin, as I insist on calling him-are standing outside the main entrance exactly where they usually are. Lydia, my best friend, is already talking with her hands, her voice carrying halfway across the parking lot, while Robert stands there with the patient expression of a man questioning every decision that led him into this conversation.

Typical.

I've never met anyone who could argue with the confidence Lydia possesses. Give her an opinion and she'll defend it like she's presenting a case before the Supreme Court. Robert, meanwhile, somehow manages to stay calm through all of it. He's annoyingly reasonable, almost impossible to fluster, and despite being Kieran's friend, he's remained one of mine for years.

Complicated?

Absolutely.

Impossible?

Surprisingly not.

Our parents have been friends for as long as I can remember, which means birthdays, holidays, and vacations always turned into mandatory group events. Everybody else became friends. Kieran and I declared war instead.

Nobody remembers what started it.

At this point, I don't think either of us cares.

Winning became the only rule that mattered.

I climb out of my car, sling my backpack over one shoulder, and head toward them, lifting a hand in greeting. Neither of them even looks at me.

Excuse me?

I slow my pace, watching them more closely.

"You're exaggerating," Robert says, somehow keeping his voice level despite Lydia looking ready to commit homicide.

"I am not exaggerating," Lydia snaps. "I'm saying people should have boundaries."

"That's not a boundary, that's a preference."

"That's exactly what a boundary is!"

I stop a few feet away and blink.

This is what they're ignoring me for?

This early in the morning?

I raise both hands.

"Okay... I'm clearly missing several chapters here."

"Kara." Lydia whirls toward me as though I've just arrived to serve jury duty. "Back me up."

"I absolutely refuse."

Lydia blinks at me.

"Excuse me?"

I spread both hands. "I've been standing here for, what, four seconds? Maybe five if we're being generous."

Her eyes narrow into suspicious little slits.

I only shrug, completely unapologetic.

"How am I supposed to settle an argument when I don't even know what crime we're prosecuting? You could be debating world peace for all I know."

Robert lets out a snort, quickly covering his mouth with his fist when Lydia shoots him a glare sharp enough to draw blood.

Lydia drags a hand down her face with theatrical disappointment before pointing accusingly at him.

"You're impossible."

"And you're dramatic."

She scoffs loudly enough for three nearby freshmen to glance over before turning on her heel and marching toward the building.

I watch her go, then turn to Robert, raising an eyebrow. "What was that about?"

He shrugs, completely unfazed. "No idea. I said something, she disagreed, and now I'm the problem."

"Sounds about right."

He grins.

I study him for a second, then narrow my eyes slightly. "Robiiiiin."

He sighs immediately. "Don't start."

"You started something."

"It wasn't even that serious."

"What did you say?"

He hesitates just long enough to confirm that it was serious.

"...I mentioned someone I hooked up with over the break," he admits.

I click my tongue.

Of course.

Lydia isn't mad about the topic. She's mad about who said it.

Not my circus, so not my monkeys.

"So," he says quickly, clearly changing the subject, "how was your holiday?"

I don't answer immediately.

Because I already know where this is going.

"With Kieran?" he adds, grinning now.

There it is.

I look at him slowly. "Say that again and I will personally demonstrate what a punching bag experiences during an average Tuesday."

He bursts out laughing.

I hate him.

"It wasn't that bad," he teases.

"It was that bad," I snap. "Being stuck at his stupidly perfect beach house because of our parents is not a vacation. It's psychological warfare."

"Sounds relaxing."

"Keep talking."

He raises his hands in surrender, still smiling. "Fine. I'll stop."

"Wise decision."

We start toward the building together, the noise of the hallway already spilling out through the open doors, and for a moment, things almost feel normal.

Almost.

Until I reach my locker.

I don't even think about it. I just open it.

And instantly regret every decision that led me here.

Something thick and sticky explodes outward, splattering across my clothes, my hair, my face, followed immediately by a shower of glitter that sticks to everything like it's personally invested in my humiliation.

The hallway erupts into laughter, followed almost immediately by the sharp flash of a camera. I go still for one dangerous second, goo sliding down the side of my face while glitter sticks stubbornly to everything it touches. Then, very slowly, I wipe my face with the back of my hand and turn around.

Kieran Lockwood stands several feet away, hands tucked casually into his pockets like he doesn't have a single concern in the world. His white self-enforced uniform is, of course, perfectly spotless. Dark hair falls across his forehead, and those irritatingly bright blue eyes settle on me with quiet satisfaction.

His friends stand behind him trying-and failing-not to laugh.

Of course he wore white.

He always wears white.

I still have no idea how someone survives an entire school day looking like a laundry detergent commercial.

"Welcome back," he says smoothly.

I stare at him. We've spent the last ten years sabotaging each other with traps, pranks, revenge, and increasingly questionable decisions, yet somehow neither of us has managed to win. And this... this is how he wants to start our final semester?

Fine.

Game on.

Before anyone can react, I march straight past him and wrap both arms around Robert.

"Kara!" he yelps, immediately trying to peel me off. "What are you doing?"

"Sharing."

His entire body goes rigid.

"...No."

"Oh yes."

"Kara!"

"It's called friendship."

"It's called assault!"

Lydia chooses that exact moment to round the corner.

The second she takes in Robert's glitter-covered shirt, slime smeared across his shoulder, and my very satisfied smile, her eyes light up.

"Oh," she says, pointing at us. "That is beautiful."

Robert gags dramatically.

I finally let him go, patting his shoulder as I step back.

"There."

I smile.

"Now we're both victims."

He stumbles away wearing the expression of absolute horror.

Balance restored.

For now.

I lift my eyes and find Kieran still watching me from across the hallway. The smug smile hasn't left his face, but there's a sharper edge behind it now, as though he's already reworking whatever plan comes next.

Good.

So am I.

This isn't over-not even close-and judging by the look in his eyes, he already knows it.