make you mine || madison b.

07. don't be stupid

Arthur's nerves were already shot before the day had even begun. The weight of the bet was pressing harder than ever, and Dylan and Milo weren't making it any easier. Every time they teased him about Madison, he could feel his patience wearing thinner, like a rope slowly fraying under too much tension. He had no idea how long he could keep this charade going without snapping.

It didn't help that he'd started feeling something for Madison, something that made him more and more resentful of his friends' constant needling. The bet had morphed into something grotesque in his mind—a cruel joke that had him trapped between his guilt and the pressure to win.

Arthur was leaning against the lockers when he saw them approaching from down the hallway, Dylan and Milo already wearing shit-eating grins that made him want to punch a wall.

"Hey, Romeo," Dylan called out with a smirk, clapping Arthur on the back. "How's the Madison project going?"

Arthur clenched his jaw but forced himself to stay calm. "It's fine. Can you not right now?"

Milo let out a laugh. "Oh, c'mon, man. You can't be getting soft on us now. You're supposed to be making her fall for you, not the other way around."

Arthur shot him a glare. "I said, drop it."

Dylan's grin widened, clearly enjoying the reaction. "Relax, man. We're just busting your balls. You know this was your idea too. Hell, I thought you'd be further along by now."

Arthur could feel his blood pressure spiking. "Yeah, well, things don't always go according to plan. Maybe if you weren't up my ass about it every five minutes, I'd have some room to think."

Milo raised his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa, whoa, chill. We're just checking in. No need to get all pissy."

Arthur's hands tightened into fists. "Pissy? You think this is funny, huh? Like it's just some fucking joke to you?"

Dylan's smirk faltered slightly. "Dude, what's your problem? You're the one who wanted in on this. Why are you getting so bent out of shape now?"

Arthur snapped. "Because it's not a fucking game anymore, alright? I'm actually trying to figure this out, and you two just keep treating it like some fucking middle school dare."

The hallway seemed to grow quieter as Arthur's outburst hung in the air. Dylan and Milo exchanged uneasy glances, the playful tone of their banter quickly fading as they realized Arthur wasn't messing around.

"Look, we didn't mean anything by it," Milo said after a moment. "We thought you were just having fun with it."

"Well, I'm not," Arthur spat, his anger still bubbling. "It's a little more complicated than that now."

Dylan scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "Alright, man. We didn't know you were getting all serious. If it's that big of a deal to you, we'll back off."

Arthur didn't respond, just shook his head and turned on his heel, storming off before they could say anything else. He needed to get away from them before he said something he couldn't take back.

Later that day, Arthur found himself at the café where Madison often stopped after her classes. He wasn't even sure why he was there, but part of him hoped he might run into her. Maybe seeing her would clear his head, give him some clarity on what the hell he was supposed to do next.

Sure enough, Madison walked through the door a few minutes later, her ponytail swaying as she greeted the barista with her usual bright smile. Arthur watched from his corner table, a strange mix of relief and anxiety settling in his chest.

She spotted him and waved, heading over to his table after placing her order.

"Hey, Arthur," she greeted, sliding into the seat across from him. "Fancy seeing you here."