Boy vs. Girl ✔️

•XVIII•

"Hey," I mumbled, as I approached Kate and Hadley. I dropped my lunch and textbook on the table, before plopping down onto the bench in front of them.

"Hey," Hadley smiled brightly, as she glanced behind her, towards Owen. He was advancing towards our table, which made me smile slightly.

"Guess your relationship isn't a secret anymore?" I asked her with an eyebrow raised.

"Nope," she grinned, as Owen sat down next to her, intertwining his fingers with hers lightly.

"Speaking of relationships, where's Jace?" Kate asked me, with her eyes narrowed, as she looked up from her history textbook. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, before working up the courage to tell her.

"We broke up. He thinks that you're right. And he thinks that the feelings are mutual," I told her, discreetly. Hadley looked at me in confusion, but I mouthed, "I'll tell you later," to her.

"What do you think?" she asked me, concern clear in her face.

"I honestly have no idea," I told her truthfully, and she furrowed her eyebrows, before looking back down at her textbook.

•••

"She's a bitch."

"No, you're a bitch."

"I know that. But she is one too."

"You're talking about my best friend."

"Your best friend is a bitch."

I groaned in utter frustration as I brought my foot forward and slammed it against the hard metal cabinet. It shook from the force of my pent up anger, but I also winced, as my toe started to throb. He chuckled. As I flickered my eyes towards him in annoyance, he continued to laugh at my sheer idiocy, and the fact that he made me kick something. I bet he didn't know that the next something was going to be his face.

"Shut up."

"I wasn't saying anything."

"Stop laughing."

"It's a free country."

I slammed my hands against his firm chest, trying to push him back, but he kept his feet planted right where he was. I wanted to strangle him, but I forced myself to take deep, steady breaths, trying to simmer down the fire that was burning up inside of me.

"God, you're so annoying."

"You are even more annoying."

"You're biased."

"You're even more biased."

"I hate you."

"Well, I don't hate you. Maybe I just strongly dislike you."

"I hate you."

He smirked, plastering it all over his face, which looked like it had been built for that one thing. His hazel eyes sparkled under the lamp light of the janitor closet he had gotten us locked into. Strangling him was seeming to get better and better as the long and tedious seconds passed on.

"I know you do," he breathed out, pushing me back, and pressing me against the metal shelves that had been behind me, with his smirk
so freaking close, that his breath was fanning over my face. I could smell the strong musk of cologne coming off of him, to which I crinkled my nose at. I
closed my eyes in preparation for the worst, when I felt his weight lift off of me, and lean back. I fluttered my eyes open, to look at an amused grin finding its way onto his face.