Nicholas James Grayson. Three words that have haunted my thoughts and consumed my sanity for the past nine years. From the very moment our paths intertwined in the third grade, a unique bond formed, one characterized by an unyielding rivalry.
We competed in every aspect imaginable, battling fiercely for academic superiority. Whether it was earning behavior stickers or achieving top marks on exams, no challenge was too small or insignificant for us to compete in. Our rivalry extended far beyond the classroom walls, spilling into our very beings. We even went as far as to allow the victor to draw tally marks on the loser's arm as stupid symbolic representation of our losses towards each other. For nine long years, the tally marks etched into my skin numbered in the hundreds, while Nicholas boasted a spotless record of 0 tallies.
But today, I had a feeling that I would finally break this whooping 0 tally reputation. In the chemistry classroom, I waited eagerly for the teacher to call out my name, revealing how I did on the latest test on thermodynamics. Confidence surged through me, for I had studied the material, understood the lab reports and textbooks until the words were etched into my memory.
Lost in my anticipation, my best friend, Charlotte, tapped me on the shoulder, abruptly bringing me back to reality. It was then that I noticed the anger radiating from our teacher's voice. I had been so consumed by my thoughts that my name had been called repeatedly, causing a commotion in the class.
Charlotte, my unwavering companion, my soul sister, tried her best to console me. She understood the significance of this moment, the possibility of finally triumphing over Nicholas. With bated breath, I received my test paper and couldn't have been happier to see a 100% staring right back at me.
Then, I watched Nicholas approach to receive his own paper, a mixture of anxiety and excitement coursed through my veins. It was a pivotal moment, one that would determine the outcome of our ongoing battle. I anticipated the disbelief, the stunned expression that would cross his face when he saw my perfect score.
Each stride he made was agonizingly slow, and each second seemed to last forever as suspense built inside of me. I was on the brink of something remarkable, teetering on the edge of my seat as the air crackled with electric tension.
His scent announced his presence, the minty smell of his after-shave engulfed me, my heart raced and all I could hear was an uneven drumming in my ears. His gaze weighed heavily on my whole being, leaving me gasping for air and longing for the revelation that was just around the corner.
But fate had other plans, cruelly playing with my emotions. As he held his paper in his hands, his smirk widened, sending shivers down my spine. After moving my short blond hair to be placed behind my ear, he leaned down with a hand on the table and in a sinister voice, he whispered into my ear, "Got that pen ready for me, Turner?"
Disbelief gripped me. How could he possibly surpass my perfect score? My hands trembled as I snatched his paper, hoping for a mistake, a miscalculation. Yet there it was, an extra credit grade and a smiley face, mocking all my hopes.
The rage that boiled within me threatened to explode. In my mind, I stood, chair scraping against the floor in a thunderous protest, ready to confront him, to unleash my fury. But in reality, all I managed was an accidental collision of my chair against his shins, coupled with a feigned apology. The good girl persona had to be maintained, after all.
Yet, he seemed unfazed, barely flinching at the impact. Seizing my pen, he took control, drawing a tally mark on my arm with a flourish before signing his name beneath it. The mark served as a constant reminder of my defeat, a visible scar etched into my very being. Washing it away would only reveal my embarrassment, a blow to my pride that I refused to succumb to.
To add to my humiliation, Nicholas took a photograph of the tally mark on my arm, no doubt sharing it with his snickering friends. But my embarrassment wasn't complete until Noah Thompson, his best friend, shouted "we all know you love our Nicky, Turner!" It was in that moment, fueled by a mixture of anger and a desire for retribution, that I retaliated and said "we all know you love my Charlotte, Thompson" which made him shut up, but he had a strange look on his face which almost looked like a content smile.
Everyone knew the revival Nick and I had between each other, but no one could forget the rival between Charlotte Wilson and Noah Thompson. That's one of the many reasons Charlotte and I became friends. We both hated Nicolas and Noah and they hated us back. This whole thing was a mirror, a reflection of 2 best friends who hated another set of two best friends.
However, uttering those words earned me a gentle slap on the arm from Charlotte, as she despised the idea of being with Noah, just as much I hated the idea of being with Nicholas. Moving her long red hair from her ear, she used it to cover her face as she was easily embarrassed. Yet, deep down, we both knew that we would be one heck of a lying sinner if we said they were unattractive.
Nicholas possessed stormy gray eyes, tousled black hair, and a tall, athletic frame, having excelled in various sports throughout elementary and middle school. Though now, he focused mainly on football, basketball, and lacrosse.
Interestingly, he had taken up lacrosse in his sophomore year, knowing it was one of my favorite sports since I had picked it up in my freshman year. While it had taken me an entire season to grasp the concept of the game, Nicholas effortlessly adapted within a few days, eventually becoming the team's captain.
Noah, on the other hand, had a leaner physique but was just as captivating, with his mesmerizing emerald green eyes and blond locks. Like Nicholas, he was also skilled in football, basketball, and lacrosse. However, unlike Nicholas, Noah had started his athletic journey, in lacrosse, during our freshman year and had been co-captaining before and then alongside Nicholas in our sophomore year. Similarly, Charlotte and I held the positions of girls' lacrosse captains since sophomore year since we joined as freshman completely clueless in the sport.
As the girls' lacrosse team always secured the early time slot for our games and practice, we were granted the privilege of taking the field first, basking in the early morning sun. Yet, at the end, we were always met with the sight of the boys' team gathering, ready to claim the field as their own. Our games were invariably scheduled back-to-back, with the girls' game preceding the boys'.
Coach Austin, the boys' coach, would always insist that his team arrive early to our games, encouraging them to show their unwavering support. Coach Ally, our coach, shared the same sentiment, keeping us rooted to our positions even when the boys' game was about to commence. She expressed her desire for us to foster a bond with the boys' team, hoping we could learn from one another's skills and strategies.
However, it didn't take long for rumors to circulate among the students. Whispers of a different motivation behind the coaches' actions began to surface. The school's policy strictly prohibited dating among colleagues, fearing the potential impact on students if a relationship were to collapse. And yet, a taboo connection seemed to blossom between Coach Austin and Coach Ally, hidden within the pretense of fostering friendships between our teams.
The only thing that kept the two teams from actually arguing with the coaches' orders was how we, the players, were witnesses to their little delicate dances of affection. Each passing game fueled our curiosity, as we wondered if their forbidden love would ever be brought into the open.
As the final bell echoed through the halls, signaling the end of Chemistry class, Charlotte and I hurriedly gathered our belongings, eager to escape the lingering presence of the boys. Our hearts raced with a mixture of excitement and apprehension as we prepared ourselves for the upcoming lacrosse practice, knowing that the boys' team would be joining us for the next three months. Knowing that I would see HIM...
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Tally
RomanceRivalry. The one word that was the causation of what drew them apart, but could it also be what drives them together? Abigail Turner and Nicolas Grayson, are childhood rivals who could possibly turn into something more. Having shared a bond that wa...
