Rival Lovers

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Zara

The weekend sun was brutal, casting sharp rays that reflected off the concrete paths crisscrossing campus. My sneakers scuffed against the sidewalk as I balanced a to-go cup of coffee in one hand and an open textbook in the other. I wasn't reading the words, not really. It was just there, a buffer between me and the world.

Campus was unusually crowded today, the quad buzzing with students setting up booths and decorations for some event I'd forgotten about. A fundraiser or spirit day or... something equally annoying. Bright banners hung from trees, and a giant inflatable archway blocked my usual route back to the dorms.

"Perfect," I muttered under my breath, detouring around a group of cheerleaders handing out flyers.

My head was pounding, a combination of too little sleep and too much caffeine. I'd spent half the night trying to finish a paper and the other half thinking about Lucas.

Because, apparently, that's my life now.

It wasn't just the storage closet incident or the way he looked at me during library shifts like I was a particularly frustrating riddle. It was the little things—his stupid comments, his stupid smirk, his stupid face.

I hated that I noticed those things.

With a sharp sigh, I shoved the thoughts aside and focused on weaving through the crowd. As I passed the soccer field, the sound of a whistle pierced the air, followed by shouts from players in the middle of a scrimmage.

Lucas was there, of course, darting between defenders like he had something to prove. Even from a distance, I could tell he was in his element—focused, fast, and annoyingly good at what he did.

I didn't linger.

Instead, I ducked into the student union building, hoping to escape the noise and chaos outside. The lobby was quieter, filled with clusters of students studying or chatting over overpriced sandwiches from the café.

I found an empty table near the back and dropped into the chair with a sigh. The coffee was lukewarm now, but I drank it anyway, flipping through my textbook in a half-hearted attempt to study.

The words blurred together, my mind drifting. I thought about the paper I still hadn't finished, the group project meeting I was dreading, and the fact that my roommate was hosting a movie night in our dorm tonight, which meant I had to find somewhere else to be.

And then, inevitably, I thought about Lucas again.

I hated that he got under my skin so easily. He had this way of making me feel like I had something to prove, like every interaction was a game I couldn't afford to lose.

But it wasn't just that.

The truth was, he made me feel seen in a way that was almost... unsettling. Like he could see past the surface—the sarcasm, the walls, the carefully constructed image I'd built for myself.

I didn't like it.

The sound of laughter jolted me out of my thoughts. I glanced up to see a group of students filing into the lobby, their voices loud and carefree. Among them was a guy I recognized from one of my classes—tall, broad-shouldered, with a mop of dark hair and an easy grin.