Rival Offline (Anya Forger x Damian Desmond)

Chapter Sixteen: A Lucky guess

As if to ruin his week even more, Emilie had decided to grace Damian with her presence once again. The French girl entered the school corridor, walking with a cheery smile that radiated confidence. Her golden hair cascaded in perfect waves, and her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. Any guy would die to have such a gorgeous girl fawning over them, but to Damian, she was just a pain.

He decided that instead of hurling the usual "What do you want, Baguette Girl?" he would ignore her presence altogether, hoping she would get the message and leave him alone.

"Hello, Damian," she said in a sing-song voice, trying to capture his attention. He could feel her presence, even as he stared off into the distance, pretending to be engrossed in the pattern of the tiled floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught glimpses of pink. Who else would have pink hair?

He sighed internally, knowing that avoiding Emilie wasn't as easy as it seemed. Reluctantly, he looked away from the pink hair and turned to face Emilie. Her bright smile faltered slightly under his indifferent gaze.

"I don't care," he said flatly, before walking off, leaving her dumbstruck and standing alone in the corridor.

He could care less if she ran and told her father about how Donovan Desmond's son was an absolute prick. Damian was used to such reactions. His father's reputation loomed large over him, but he had long stopped caring about his neglectful father's expectations or opinions.

As he walked away, he could feel the weight of Emilie's eyes on his back, and he wondered briefly if she would persist in her attempts to befriend him or if she would finally give up. Either way, it didn't matter to him. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, each step echoing his determination to remain unfazed by the distractions around him.

Reaching his locker, Damian spun the combination dial with practiced ease. He retrieved his books and glanced around, his thoughts wandering back to the pink hair he'd seen earlier. It was unmistakable. Anya. Her presence was as disruptive as Emilie's, though for entirely different reasons. Shaking off the thought, he slammed his locker shut, determined to focus on the day ahead and not on the people trying to invade his space.

-

Anya was grateful for Becky, at the very least. She looked over at her friend, who held a disposable camera in her hand.

"Gonna need this. Anything else?" Becky asked, carefully placing the camera into her basket. Anya scanned her mental checklist, pondering for a moment. "Hmm..."

"We should probably take hand warmers," Damian chimed in, his expression stoic. He was still confused as to why he was even there, but it wasn't like he had anything better to do today.

Anya cringed at the sound of his voice. It was deep and smooth, and she hated it.

"Great idea," Becky replied, pausing to think. Then she spoke up again, "Can you two go get snacks?" It was clear what she was trying to do.

Anya had a look of disgust on her face but didn't argue. Damian turned to walk off, and she reluctantly followed behind.

"Wait up," she said, catching up to him.

"You don't need to force yourself to talk to me," he muttered, reaching out and grabbing a bag of peanuts, tossing it into the cart.

"Those are my favorite," Anya said excitedly.

"Yeah... I know. That's why I grabbed them," he scoffed, causing Anya to give him a confused look.

"How did you know that, though?" she asked. Damian froze as he reached for a generic bag of salted chips. He couldn't tell her that he saw her eat a bag every single day at lunch with a big, stupid smile on her face, or that she had an absurd amount of peanut-themed items. Absolutely not—she would find him so creepy.

"Lucky guess," he muttered, tossing the chips into the cart.

Anya raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. They moved down the aisle in an awkward silence, the tension between them palpable. Damian felt a twinge of irritation mixed with something he couldn't quite identify. He had always been good at hiding his feelings, but Anya had a way of unsettling him.

As they approached the candy section, Anya's eyes lit up. "We should get some chocolate, too," she suggested, reaching for a bar. Damian watched her, feeling a strange mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Fine," he said, grabbing a few more bars and adding them to the cart. "Anything else?"

Anya shook her head, looking at the assortment of snacks they had gathered. "No, I think we're good."

They walked back to Becky, who was waiting with a smirk on her face. "Got everything?"

"Yeah, we're all set," Anya replied, trying to ignore the lingering awkwardness.

"Great! Let's head to the checkout," Becky said, leading the way. As they walked, Anya couldn't help but steal a glance at Damian. Maybe he wasn't as bad as she thought, but there was no way she'd let him know that. For now, she was content to keep her distance, even if it meant enduring his irritating presence a little longer.