There has always been Mona and there has always been Scaramouche. And one thing for certain was that they despised each other.
With a burning academic rivalry between them, piled by tons of denial and petty bickering, both scholars find themselves...
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Students with dark bags lapping under the skin of their eyes gathered in the room for the much-foreboding history exam.
Mona anxiously picked at her nails, preferring not to engage in the general conversation around her. Maybe it would've helped ease her nerves, but most of the talk consisted of the long hours and notorious preparation everyone had taken. She didn't want to be more stressed out than she already was.
She wasn't entirely sure the reason she was even nervous. Mona had rarely ever failed exams before; the last being a pop quiz in her freshman year. And history was a subject she excelled at, her confidence had always stood on par to the sun. There was no need for her to be so apprehensive.
She'd even gone as far as to dedicate the whole of yesterday to revising and studying for the test– only ever taking breaks for food and the bathroom. She had to make up for the lost time wasted at the party, after all.
The party.
Mona tugged a little harder at the hangover skin lining the side of her nail.
She didn't take the time to think things over since that eventful night. Or well, she didn't allow herself to think it through. Instead, she found herself subconsciously distracting herself to avoid it coming across her mind. And it was just her luck that there was an upcoming exam, otherwise she wouldn't have known what to deflect her attention with.
Besides, Mona had better things to do than think about him. He was a senile earthworm in comparison to the grand scheme of her thoughts. Sure, he was attractive, and more or less decent sometimes– but whatever decency he had paled when put against how much of a jerk he was.
And once again, it was all just a game. A stupid teen party game, and his answer held no real weight. Just because he had preferred to kiss her over two other girls shouldn't mean much. It did not mean he liked her, Mona assured, almost to give herself a sense of comfort. A sense of stability. Something to cling on to while her emotions surged to a tornado.
