Y/N's POV:
It all started with a stupid bet.
Kim Minji. The name itself was an irritant. A constant reminder of my arch-nemesis, the girl who effortlessly stole every academic accolade and every ounce of my sanity.
Her perfect scores, her flawless presentations, her infuriatingly smug smile – it made me want to rip my hair out.
We were both top students, vying for the same scholarships and recognition, locked in a silent, vicious battle.
Every test, every essay, every project was a clash of egos, a struggle for dominance. It was a constant, simmering tension, punctuated by the occasional, cold-blooded verbal sparring match.
One afternoon, in the midst of a particularly heated debate on the merits of John Locke's philosophy (she, of course, championed Locke, I, a staunch defender of Rousseau), she threw down the gauntlet.
"You think you're so smart, Y/N? You think you can outsmart me in everything?" Her eyes narrowed, challenging me.
"Oh, I know I can," I countered, my confidence simmering. "Just watch me."
That's when it happened. The moment my brain, fuelled by a potent cocktail of frustration and ego, decided to play a dangerous game.
"If my grades are higher than yours this semester, you have to date me," I declared, a smirk playing on my lips.
A beat of silence, then a slow, calculating smile spread across her face. "Fine," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "But if I beat you, you have to write an apology letter to every teacher you've ever antagonized and post it on the school website."
And so, the bet was sealed. The stakes were high, but the fire in my belly was higher.
I was determined to win, to prove her wrong, to finally have her acknowledge my intellect. To break her infuriatingly perfect facade.
To make her...mine.
Minji's POV:
He was infuriating. An arrogant, smug know-it-all who thought he could outsmart me.
Y/N. His name was like a sharp, annoying itch I couldn't scratch. He was always in my way, always challenging my brilliance, always pushing my buttons.
I couldn't deny there was a spark of annoyance, maybe even a twinge of something…else, whenever I saw him. But it was all mixed with frustration, a sense of being constantly challenged.
Our rivalry was legendary. We battled in every academic arena, each victory, each defeat, fueling the fire of our competitive spirit.
And then came his stupid bet.
"If my grades are higher than yours this semester, you have to date me," he had said, his eyes glinting with a cocky challenge.
I had to laugh. The audacity of this boy! He thought he could buy my attention with a bet? How naive.
"Fine," I said, my voice laced with ironic amusement. "But if I beat you, you have to write an apology letter to every teacher you've ever antagonized and post it on the school website."
The bet was made. It was a game I was confident I would win. I was always the top student, the shining star, the one everyone expected to win. I wouldn't let him, a cocky, arrogant boy, steal that from me.
But as the weeks went by, the fierce competitiveness of our battle began to morph into something else. A tension, an awareness, a spark that defied logic.
I realized I was starting to enjoy our competition, to crave his presence, to anticipate his challenges. I was…enjoying the game more than I should.
Y/N's POV:
