He's obsessed with me.
I thought to myself as I caught Elliot Rourke glaring at me for the hundredth time.
He was seated with his friends in the cafeteria, a few tables ahead of me. His friends were laughing and talking all around him and yet, his attention was solely on me. I doubt he had even touched his food. At this point, it might as well have been there for decoration.
So damn obsessed.
He looked as he always did when he stared- messy blond hair falling into his brown eyes, lips pressed together, left leg bouncing beneath the table, fingers clenched around a plastic fork like he might snap it in half.
I had never thought that being hated could feel so heady.
But that was exactly what being hated by Elliot Rourke made me feel.
I could not explain why it did.
If anything, it should've made me angry. Made me dislike Elliot in return. But it didn't.
I had always been a good child. The perfect one. The one everybody loved.
The one who was good at sports, at academics, at making friends, at anything you could name. I was popular. Everybody loved me.
Yet, for some reason, Elliot didn't feel the same as everyone else. It fascinated me.
From the very moment he had set eyes on me, before I could even say a word, Elliot had decided I was going to be his worst enemy.
He was angry. Angry at me, at his dad, at the world, at the fact that I existed in the same space as him.
At first, I thought he resented me because he viewed me as a 'replacement' for his family but I was beginning to realize it was deeper than that.
I met his gaze and waved.
He rolled his eyes and finally averted his gaze, turning to speak to his friends.
I did not know what to make of this pointless 'rivalry' between us. And yes, it was pointless because it was entirely one-sided.
For the past six months now, Elliot has done everything to antagonize me. He had put glue in my toothpaste, intentionally left suds on the bathroom wall (because he knew how much it drove me crazy), put spice and salt in my drink, made snide passing comments about how robotic I was, broke my laptop by 'mistake' and the list went on.
It was weird and quite frankly, childish.
Everyone was starting to notice too, but that didn't deter Elliot.
We've been doing this dance for way longer than necessary but quite frankly, I wasn't tired of it yet- I didn't think I'd ever be.
"Hey, babe," a soft voice said beside me.
A wet kiss on my cheek followed as Sofia, my girlfriend, took the space beside me on the long chair. Balanced perfectly on her hands was a tray containing grilled chicken breast, steamed broccoli, salad and yoghurt.
She placed the tray on the table and tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder, the motion causing the scent of her strawberry mixed with lavender shampoo to linger in the air.
With her gray eyes, a graceful nose, and pouty, red lips, Sofia was insanely pretty. Which meant she was perfect for me. Perfect for the role I'd crafted for myself.
"Your stepbrother is staring at you again," she said as she wrapped her lips around a straw. Her gaze was on a distant table in front of us. Where my darling stepbrother was sitting. "He looks like he wants to kill you."
I looked up and surely enough, Elliot was staring at me like he was already imagining me six feet under.
I winked at him.
He pulled a disgusted face and looked away.
It worked every time. The key to winning our little battles was to act unruffled. It pissed him off even more.
Sofia sighed beside me. "If only he didn't scowl so much all the time, he would be so hot. Something about his messy hair just does it for me. It's so... sexy."
I shot her a look. She had her chin in her hand, a dreamy expression on her face as she stared at Elliot.
Something hot unfurled in my stomach. I wasn't sure what to make of it.
Sofia laughed when she caught my look and curled her hands around my bicep. "Oh babe. You look like you want to murder someone. I'm just joking."
Somehow, I didn't think she was.
"Excuse me if I don't find you calling my stepbrother hot funny."
She rolled her eyes. "I might be dating you but I have eyes too, you know. I can't turn them off." She planted a fat kiss on my cheek. I didn't have to check to know I probably had a lipstick stain on the right side of my cheek.
I forced out a smile to reassure her.
She wrapped her arms around my neck. "Don't worry, I'm still yours. You don't have to be jealous."
Yeah. The problem was I wasn't sure it was her I was feeling jealous over.
"You look exhausted," Sofia said as she released me, now focused on taking a bite of her chicken.
"I had an early lecture," I replied, shrugging. "And a late night."
She raised an eyebrow. "Studying?"
I smirked faintly. "Always."
She laughed, unconvinced but willing to let it go. Sofia was like that-warm, easy, content to take people at face value. It was one of the things that made being with her... comfortable.
I took a bite of my sandwich, then felt it.
The unmistakable sensation of being watched.
I looked up and our eyes met.
He didn't look away.
His glare felt almost like a challenge.
The corner of my mouth twitched before I could stop it.
Sofia's voice drew my attention back to her, her knee brushing mine under the table. "So," she said in a sing-song voice, "there's a party this weekend. Friday night."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Hayden's throwing it. Off-campus. Everyone's going."
I considered that for a moment longer than necessary. It was on the tip of my tongue to say no. I didn't feel like partying this weekend. I wasn't even fully recovered from the last one.
But everyone had a role to play. Including me.
"Are you coming?" Sofia asked, tilting her head. "You always say you might and then you don't come. And when you do come, you're nowhere to be found minutes later. You just... disappear."
"I don't 'disappear'," I corrected mildly. "I just... leave."
She rolled her eyes. "Same thing."
I glanced across the cafeteria again, just briefly this time.
Elliot was still watching me.
"Maybe," I said. "Depends."
"On what?"
"On my mood."
Sofia reached across the table to lace her fingers through mine. Her touch was warm, grounding.
In front of me, I watched as Elliot's jaw tightened.
A strange sense of satisfaction ran through me.
"Come with me," Sofia said. "Please. I don't want to spend the whole night explaining to people that yes, I do have a boyfriend, and no, he's not imaginary."
I huffed a quiet laugh. "Fine. I'll come."
Her face lit up. "Really?"
"Really."
She squeezed my hand once more before letting go. "Good. I'll text you the details."
As she turned back to her food, I looked up again.
Elliot was staring openly now, fury etched into every line of his face. There was something reckless in his eyes, something that looked dangerous.
I held his gaze. Didn't look away. Just watched him right back.
Whatever game he thought he was playing, he was already involved far deeper than he realized.
And soon, it was going to be impossible to ignore.
I was already anticipating that moment. The moment when the tension between us would finally snap.
One way or another.