This is ridiculous

Chapter 3- Game on

Victoria's POV

It's been an extremely romantic weekend between me and my textbooks. I spent most the entirety of my Sunday catching up on all my missed assignments and coursework. What is it with this school and all their workload, I have a life to be living.

I hate mondays. I rolled out of bed and decided to actually be on time for once, since many teachers have been getting on my case for my quote on quote tardiness and punctuality. Personally i think everyone should just relax a little. I proceeded with my morning routine of brushing my teeth and sliding on my uniform. I used some sea salt spray to revive my short wolfcut, gotta have some fluff and volume and i right. I checked myself out in my mirror, not bad today.

I text Sam letting her know i'll meet her by our usual spot; I sling my vans school bag on my back and head out the dormitories. As i'm locking my door I heard a loud bang echo the corridors. Turning towards the source of the noise, I spotted Malia, wrapped in nothing but a towel, standing outside her own door with an exasperated look on her face. Despite my better judgment, I couldn't help but feel a surge of attraction towards her, even though she was currently my sworn enemy.

Her wet hair cascaded in unruly waves down her shoulders, droplets of water glistening on her skin. The towel barely concealed her curves, leaving little to the imagination. Despite the animosity between us, I couldn't deny the undeniable allure she possessed.

"What on earth happened?" I asked, my curiosity outweighing my reluctance to engage with her.

Malia sighed dramatically, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "I managed to lock myself out of my room" she admitted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Suppressing a smirk, I couldn't help but find amusement in her predicament. "Well, at least you're not completely naked" I quipped, unable to resist the opportunity to tease her.

She shot me a glare, her eyes flashing with irritation. "This is not the time for jokes, Victoria," she snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut through the tension.

Sighing, I relented, realizing that this was not the moment for banter. "Do you have a spare key?" I asked, trying to be helpful despite our showdown on Friday.

Malia shook her head, her expression resigned. "No, I left it in my room," she admitted, her frustration evident.

I weighed my options for a moment, contemplating whether to offer my assistance or simply leave her to fend for herself. Despite our differences, I couldn't bring myself to abandon her in such a vulnerable state.

"Fine," I conceded, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a bobby pin. "Let's see if I can work some magic."

As I knelt down beside the door, Malia watched me with a mixture of skepticism and gratitude. With a practiced hand, I inserted the bobby pin into the lock, my fingers moving deftly as I attempted to pick it.

After a few tense moments, there was a satisfying click, and the door swung open, revealing Malia's disheveled room beyond. She let out a relieved sigh, offering me a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Victoria," she said, her voice softening slightly as she met my gaze.

I nodded in acknowledgment, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction at having been able to help her, despite our differences. As Malia disappeared into her room to retrieve her spare key, I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there was more to our complicated relationship than meets the eye.

As I headed to Sam and I's spot before class, my thoughts involuntarily drifted back to Malia—her tousled hair, the way droplets of water clung to her skin, the curve of her lips as she spoke. Lost in my daydream, I barely noticed Sam waving frantically to catch my attention.