𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 / academic rivals 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤
Georgia Ivy Findlay is the girl who seems to have it all together-smart, kind, and effortlessly cool. But beneath that calm exterior, she's got a secret life as an assassin, forced to grow...
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THE NEXT MORNING
I sat in math class, half-listening to the monotone hum of the teacher's voice while my mind wandered miles away from the equations scrawled on the board. Instead of solving for x, I was mentally flipping through dress options for the Mafia Ball—something sleek, black, and completely unforgettable. Just the idea of attending made my stomach twist, equal parts nerves and anticipation.
And if that wasn't enough to keep my thoughts busy, next weekend was already creeping up. Hazel had been talking nonstop about wanting to try modeling. She was serious about it now, and Adeline and I had both promised to support her. There was no backing out of that.
"Georgia," my teacher called sharply, cutting through my daydream. "Can you please answer the question on the board?"
I blinked, then glanced up. "Eighty-nine," I answered automatically, my voice steady even though my brain had been anywhere but here.
She narrowed her eyes. "Correct. Now, if you could also stay focused while you're at it, that would be appreciated."
I gave a tight nod, sinking a little further into my chair and forcing my eyes to stay on the board.
But it was no use.
Because all I could think about was how my life—quiet, calculated, and tightly controlled—was suddenly spiraling toward something dangerous, unpredictable, and far, far from normal.
TIME SKIP
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, I slung my bag over my shoulder and made my way to the courtyard where Haitti was already waiting.
"Please tell me you've at least picked a dress," she said, falling into step beside me as we headed toward the parking lot.
I shook my head. "Nope. Not even close. Honestly, I was hoping we could go shopping now—find something before I spiral and show up in a hoodie out of panic."
Haitti gave me a look. "You? Show up to the Mafia Ball in a hoodie? Please. Even your worst panic outfit would look designer."
I smirked. "Still, I need backup. You in?"
"Oh, absolutely," she said, practically bouncing. "I've been waiting for this all week. We're making a whole event out of it—coffee, dress shops, maybe shoes if we're brave."
We reached my car and threw our bags in the back seat. The late afternoon sun was still strong, casting everything in a warm, golden haze.
"You think we'll run into anyone?" I asked as I pulled out of the school lot, mostly referring to a certain someone who always had a way of ruining my peace.
"If we do, we'll out-dress them," Haitti said, confidently adjusting her sunglasses. "Simple."
I laughed, the tension from the day finally easing a little. As much chaos as this week had promised, there was something comforting about this—the drive, the plan, the familiar rhythm of being around someone who didn't expect anything from me but honesty.
