Minho hates Kavya, Kavya hates him more they both compete over everything and now they are stuck together for the whole year. Yet something starts drawing Minho closer and pushing Kavya away.
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I hate school. No surprise there. It's the first day of Year 12, and instead of starting the day with the usual dread, I have the added misery of carpooling. That's right, carpooling. My mother, in all her wisdom, decided that Kavya Patel should no longer walk to school. Apparently, she's decided I need to pick her up. Fantastic. As if Kavya is incapable of making the short walk herself. She's more than capable, but hey, who am I to question the great parental minds?
I check my schedule for the day: biology, chemistry, and PE. Normally, I'd be looking forward to these classes. Biology and chemistry are decent, and PE used to be fun until our old PE teacher mysteriously vanished. The new guy? I'm not too keen on him. I don't know what happened to the last teacher, but I liked him. He was cool, didn't push too hard, and let us get away with the occasional shortcut during laps. The new teacher has big shoes to fill, and I'm not optimistic.As we near Kavya's house, my phone buzzes. It's a message from Thomas, my best mate, who's been away all summer.
Lil Bro
'Yo, first day, did you miss my face?'
I smirk, shaking my head. Thomas had spent the summer in the US, visiting family, while I stayed here. My summer was dull, to say the least, with most of my friends off on their exotic trips. But I'm not about to admit I missed the guy, even if a part of me did. I quickly type back:
'Ew, no. As if.'
I turn my phone face down, not wanting to dwell on the fact that I did miss him. Instead, I focus on the familiar scenery outside, the same streets I've driven down a thousand times. But today, they seem to pass by slower, each second dragging out the inevitable encounter with Kavya.We pull up to Kavya's house, and the sight of it is almost too familiar. The sleek black exterior with its modern glass panelling is comforting in a way, a reminder that some things never change. I just hope she's ready because I'm not in the mood to wait around. I've got better things to do—like scope out how many new girls I can charm on the first day. After all, who can resist my charismatic charm, right?
I stride up to the door, tugging down on my tie as I go. God, I hate these things. Another entry for my ever-growing hate list. It's extensive, believe me, but nothing—or no one—beats the person sitting firmly at number one: Kavya Patel. Just thinking about her makes my skin crawl. I've never liked her, and I doubt I ever will. She's got this holier-than-thou attitude, always acting like she's better than me. Spoiler alert: she's not. But she's always competing with me, like some immature child. It's exhausting.
And then she arrives.
"Took your time," I say, dripping with sarcasm.
"Shut up," she snaps back.
They could never make me like you, Kavya Patel.
After a few more moments of tense silence, we make our way to the car. My driver's been waiting, poor guy. Of course, there's only one person to blame for the delay, and it's not me. I open the car door and gesture for Kavya to get in first. But just as she's about to step in, I slide in front of her and close the door in her face. Classic. I'm hilarious.
She huffs in frustration, walking around to the other side of the car to get in. I can't help but smirk as she settles into the seat next to me, her annoyance palpable. We sit in silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. It's always like this with us. Even the simplest conversation turns into a battle of wits, a verbal sparring match that neither of us ever really wins. It's exhausting, but at the same time, it's become almost a routine. A twisted, dysfunctional routine.
As the car rolls along the familiar streets, I can't help but wonder how the year will unfold. Last year was a blur of exams, competitions, and petty arguments with Kavya. This year will probably be more of the same. We'll compete, we'll argue, and we'll make each other's lives miserable. It's a given. But somehow, in the midst of all that animosity, there's a strange sense of anticipation. Maybe it's the thrill of the rivalry, or maybe it's something else entirely—something I'm not quite ready to admit to myself.
The car pulls up to the school gates, and I'm greeted by the usual sight of students milling around, catching up with friends they haven't seen since last term. I spot a few familiar faces, but my attention is quickly drawn back to Kavya as she steps out of the car. She's already got that determined look on her face, the one that says she's ready to take on the world—or at least, take me on. I can't help but roll my eyes. She's exhausting, but at least she keeps things interesting.
We part ways without a word, each heading to our respective classes. Biology first. I settle into my seat, trying to push thoughts of Kavya out of my mind. But of course, she's there too, next to me. Typical.
The day drags on it's only been 2 periods, a blur of lectures and notes. I try to focus, but my mind keeps wandering back to Kavya. Not in a good way, mind you, but in that irritating, she's-always-in-my-face kind of way. She's like a thorn in my side that I can't seem to shake.
By the time PE rolls around, I'm ready to blow off some steam. The new PE teacher is as unimpressive as I expected, all stern looks and strict instructions. But I push through, channelling my frustration into the exercises. Mr Janson.
