Emma spent the rest of her first week at the Italian school trying to adjust, but the boy from the courtyard—Ilario, as she quickly learned his name—seemed to make it his mission to make her feel unwelcome.
He'd slide into the desk beside her in history class just to comment on how she probably couldn't keep up with the lesson, or mutter in Italian to his friends whenever she answered a question.
She wasn't fluent enough to understand everything he said, but she caught enough to know he thought she was an outsider, an intruder in his world.
In math, he even raised his hand to help her with an equation when she hesitated. But instead of explaining it, he just smirked and said, "Maybe math isn't for you." Her cheeks flushed as the others giggled, and she glared at him, too angry for words.
But this time, she vowed, she wouldn't let him get to her.
It was during lunch one day that Emma got her first real glimpse into Ilario's world. She was sitting alone, picking at her pasta, when she noticed him across the courtyard with his friends. He was laughing, effortlessly charming everyone around him, like he was the center of the universe. They hung on every word he said, cheering him on like he was some kind of local legend.
"Ilario ," someone said as they sat down beside her. It was Sofia, a friendly girl from her art class, who'd seen Emma looking at him.
"He thinks he's the king of the school. His family's lived here forever, and everyone just...follows him." She shrugged. "You're new, so he probably sees you as competition or something."
Emma blinked, surprised. "Competition? I'm just here to go to school."
"Yeah, but you're new. You're interesting." Sofia grinned, as if this were a great thing, but Emma wasn't so sure.
From that day on, Emma decided if Luca wanted to play games, she wouldn't be afraid to push back. One afternoon in Italian literature class, she raised her hand to read a passage, her voice steady as she worked through the unfamiliar words. She felt Ilario's gaze on her, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth as if he expected her to mess up. But she kept going, meeting his eyes with a challenging stare. When she finished, the teacher clapped. Ilario rolled his eyes but said nothing.
Things started to escalate, their rivalry unfolding in small, daily challenges. In gym class, Ilario would run circles around her during relay races, making sure to always win by a second or two, flashing her an infuriating grin as he crossed the finish line. In art, he'd throw in comments about her paintings—"Interesting style," he'd say, making "interesting" sound like a curse. But every time, Emma bit her tongue and pushed harder, determined not to let him see her falter.
Then came the weekend soccer game. The school had organized a friendly match, and Sofia had convinced Emma to join, promising it would be a great way to get to know more people. But when Emma arrived at the field, ready to play, she saw Ilario on the opposite team, smirking from across the pitch. She realized that this wasn't going to be an ordinary game.
When the game began, Ilario played aggressively, blocking her at every turn. But Emma didn't back down; she kept up with him, stealing the ball whenever she got the chance. At one point, she managed to dribble past him and score, her team erupting into cheers.
As she turned to celebrate, she saw Ilario watching her, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and annoyance. She gave him a triumphant smile, knowing she'd earned that goal. For a second, it looked like he might actually smile back, but he quickly masked it with his usual smirk.
After the game, as everyone packed up, Ilario walked past her, stopping just long enough to mutter, "Not bad...for a straniera."
Emma lifted her chin, refusing to let him get the last word. "Thanks. And not bad for a sore loser."
As she walked away, she felt a small rush of satisfaction. Ilario might think he could intimidate her, but she was starting to realize that maybe—just maybe—she could keep up with him. And maybe he was starting to realize it too.
I tried to make this chapter longer im still new to writing hope i will get better
Don't forget to give me ideas and suggestions hope ur liking the story so far
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Teen FictionWhen Emma moves to Florence, Italy, for a fresh start, the last thing she expects is to make an enemy on her first day at her new school. Enter Luca Ferraro, a popular, arrogant local who seems to take pleasure in reminding her that she doesn't belo...