Rival Hearts.

**Elena's POV**

I clamber out of the bus, gripping the railing as everyone tramples over each other. It's pouring rain, and puddles splash under my black Converse, while my soaked hair could fill a glass.

"Elena! Wait up!" Fiona's voice calls from behind me. I instantly recognize her. Fiona and I have been best friends since we were six, inseparable ever since. She's an amazing ballet dancer, having practically forced her parents to take her to lessons as a child. We moved in together as soon as we turned eighteen, a much-needed change of environment.

"Ugh, it's freezing! I'm literally turning into an icicle!" Fiona complains. She's wearing a small pink tank top with a white cardigan and black skater jeans I bought her for her eighteenth birthday.

"Why did you pick that out of everything in your closet? It's 50 degrees and winter. Don't get me wrong, it's adorable," I say.

She sighs. "For exactly that reason. But right now, I regret my fashion choices."

We navigate the busy streets as the rain pours down on us. My mascara runs, and my raincoat is useless since I can feel water seeping through to my skin. Fiona spends the walk venting about her new ballet teacher, ending her rant with, "Stupid old witch."

"Fiona! You can't call a seventy-year-old woman that. She's like a grandma."

"I hope she's not someone's grandma. Imagine the poor child," Fiona shivers.

As we enter the college gates, students flood through like eager schoolgirls. It's my fourth week at Clare University, and the massive campus is a nightmare for my terrible sense of direction. I arrive just before class begins and find Matt saving my seat at the back.

"Took you long enough," he huffs. "Some girls tried to take your spot. I even put my textbook on the seat to claim it."

I notice a group of girls huddled around, not-so-subtly staring at Matt, whispering and giggling.

"Yeah, I can tell."

"Huh?" He turns to spot his admirers. "Someone's got a little crush on you."

He blushes, waving awkwardly, causing the girls to giggle and hide their faces just as the professor walks in.

"Really?" he chuckles.

I met Matt on the first day of classes. We both hid at the back, and thankfully, we became friends. Matt is what I'd call a quiet jock, if that's even a thing, and he's hot. People stare at him all the time, and he's oblivious unless I point it out.

Suddenly, I remember something. "Matt!" I hiss, swatting his arm.

"Ouch, what was that for?" He abandons his doodling.

"You have your first basketball match today, and you didn't tell me! I'm personally offended."

He'd been so excited when he got accepted into the Briar Hawks that he practically jumped on me, and we were practically strangers then. Since then, Fiona and I have attended all his practice games.

"Oh. Yeah, sorry." He looks down, pretending to find a pen.

"What's wrong?" I ask softly.

He sighs. "What if I mess up? I'm the only freshman on the team, so if I screw up, it's over for me." His hands tremble.

"That won't happen. You're the best on the team. This is coming from someone who's watched every practice game. You'll be fine."

"You think so?" he asks, self-conscious.

"One hundred percent. So, what time does it start? We'll be your cheerleaders."

"Are you going to wear a skimpy blue and white skirt with pom-poms?"

"No, but I'll paint your number on my face."

"Good enough. It starts at six."

Back home, Fiona bursts into my room in her underwear, practically naked. "I have nothing to wear! I need something hot-but casual." She rummages through my closet, pulling out a blue backless halter and black jeans. "This."

"Cute, but you'll be cold."

"Then I'll steal your jumper."

I throw a white puffer jacket at her head. I look in the mirror, wearing a deep blue strapless top, a leather jacket, and denim jeans. I paint the number 08 on my cheeks in bright red.

"You're not doing that to me," Fiona says, applying makeup.

"I totally am." I rush over, ready to draw on her face.

"Elena!" she screeches as I pin her down, messily painting the numbers on her cheeks.

"Perfect."

"You ruined my face."

"Too bad." I stick out my tongue.

"We're early," Fiona says. "Let's get dinner. I'd die for a slice of pizza."

"Nah, I'm not hungry," I reply, my leg bouncing as I scroll through messages.

"Elena..." Fiona narrows her eyes.

"What?"

"I'm not an idiot. I noticed you only had one bite of my pancakes this morning."

"I'm just not hungry!"

I've been so good lately, I didn't even realize-

"And you haven't eaten all day," she continues. "What if I make your favorite, butter chicken?"

"I'll pass."

"You know what? I'll take a banana." I grab one from the kitchen and take a big bite. "Happy?" I say with my mouth full.

"Y-yes."

"Good. Let's go. Better early than late, right?" I grab our house keys.

"Yeah." Fiona follows me outside in silence.

We arrive just as the cheerleaders start. I see Matt with his team in the corner. We find seats at the highest point in the stands, avoiding the crowd.

"Do you see Camila?" Fiona asks urgently. Camila is her sort-of girlfriend, though Camila doesn't want a relationship.

"Nope. Doubt she'd come to a sports game. Not her scene."

"She texted me she would."

"Of course she did. Let's sit here." I point to some empty chairs.

A loud buzzer signals the first quarter, and the stadium erupts in cheers. The Eagles and the Cheetahs start the game, and minutes later, Matt intercepts the ball and scores. The crowd goes wild.

"Go Matt!" I yell. Fiona whistles.

The game is intense, neck and neck by the third quarter. My phone rings. "I'll take this," I say to Fiona, stepping down the crowded stairs. "Mum, is something wrong?"

"What's that noise? You're not at a party, are you?"

"No, just a basketball game."

"Good. I called to see how you're handling college. I haven't talked to you in two weeks."

Guilt washes over me. "I know, I'm sorry. I've been busy with school."

"That's okay, Elena! I'm glad you're busy. I'm probably interrupting. Can I call you later?"

"Of course." Her voice cuts off. "Mum? You there?" I check my phone. No signal. "Stupid cheap school," I mutter.

Navigating through the crowd, I realize how packed the stadium is. Suddenly, I trip and crash into someone.

"What the hell, man, watch where you're going!" a voice says. Holding my head, I realize I'll have a bruise tomorrow.

A tall figure looms over me. He has shaggy brown hair, bright green eyes, and freckles.

"Oh, sorry," I say, turning to find Fiona. She's not there. "I'm really sorry-"

He stares at me, then looks away. Something about him seems familiar.

"Do I know you?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Maybe. A lot of people know me around here."

"Sorry, I thought you looked familiar. Probably just the fall."

He clears his throat, avoiding eye contact. Heat rises in my face as I realize who he is.

"That's Jeremy Steves. The bane of my existence."

So much for a fresh start.

Jeremy POV

My gaze follows her as she walks away.

Elena Cameron.

I never thought I'd see her again.

Her hair is shorter now, no longer in two pigtails. She still has those full lips and those sparkling blue eyes that make me forget my own name. Her voice is the same, though raspier than I remember.

She's grown up, obviously-not the fourteen-year-old girl I knew. She looks different than I imagined, but it's a good different.

Elena Cameron. Her name keeps echoing in my mind.

How is it possible for someone to drag you out of the present and out of your own control?

A hand slaps my shoulder. "You good, man? Looks like you've seen a ghost."

I turn to see Asher staring at me, eyes full of unnecessary concern. "What? I'm fine," I say, unconvincingly.

"Okay... You sure? Because you're pale as hell." He narrows his eyes.

"I said I'm fine, didn't I?" I snap, not meaning to.

He holds his hands up. "Okay, okay man. Just checking."

I drag my hand down my face. "Sorry-it's just-"

How do I explain that the girl I've been in love with since I was thirteen just bumped into me? The girl I haven't seen in almost five years is now here-at Clare University.

"-nothing, it's nothing."

I don't pay attention to the rest of the game. All I know is we won because Asher jumped on top of me when the buzzer went off.

Matthew and I met on the first day of high school at the tryouts for ice hockey. We've been best mates ever since. We've got each other's backs, something I didn't have for a while-not that I'd ever tell him unless I was on my deathbed.

"Do you think Samara was looking at me during the game? I swear she was," he says as we drive back to our apartment.

"Don't know, she was a little preoccupied, don't you think?"

Samara is a cheerleader he's had his eyes on for a while now-a week, actually, but considering it's Asher, that's a lot.

He stares at me. "Okay man, tell me what's up."

I sigh, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Nothing's up."

He scoffs. "Hell yeah there is. You've been all distant-even more than usual-since that girl crashed into you."

I hesitate, but he won't leave it alone if I don't answer. "I know her."

"Okay?" He says slowly. "Who is it then?"

I don't answer.

"I'm not a mind reader. I wish I was, but I'm not-so can you tell me who the hell that was?"

I exhale. "Elena. Elena Cameron."

His face is blank for a moment, then a small smile creeps up. "Ah, Elena." His smile turns into a smirk.

"Shut the hell up."

"Well, I guess you have your chance now," he says with a shrug.

"Chance at what?"

"Love," he says in a voice that clearly isn't his.

I throw my empty coffee cup at him. "Gross, man."

I park the car as we walk up to our apartment.

"She does remember you, right?" Asher asks.

"Do I know you?" I remember her asking. I can't get her voice out of my head.

"Nah-I don't think so, at least."

He drops his keys. "Actually?"

I nod. "Yeah, I'm not sure why you're so surprised."

"Why aren't you more surprised?"

"It's been five years. You can't expect her to remember every face she meets."

He mumbles, "You have a pretty memorable face."

I chuckle. "Aw, did you just admit your deep, indulging love for me, little Asher?"

He murmurs something as he chucks his shoes in the hallway and walks to his room.

"Big baby," I whisper.

"I heard that!" he yells from his room.

Today I have my first biology class. I didn't know what classes I wanted to take when I got to college-I still don't. All I know is I want to play hockey professionally-I did get a full-ride scholarship, after all.

Yesterday felt like a dream. I can't decide if it was a good or bad one; all I know is it didn't feel real. It still doesn't.

I arrive at the lecture hall early, finding a seat at the back. One by one, people fill the seats around me as I work on an essay that needs to be submitted by Thursday. I have only a few days to complete two thousand more words. A notification pops up on my phone.

Asher: Have you seen your one true love today?

I roll my eyes as I type back.

Jeremy: It's a massive school, man. I'm probably not going to see her again

Asher: Love always finds a way

Jeremy: WTF? Since when did you become such a softie?

Jeremy: I actually don't care, don't answer that question

I tuck my phone back into my pocket and check the time. The professor should be here any minute. I continue typing when I hear someone putting their books on the desk next to me.

Elena Cameron.

She's wearing an oversized black jumper and baggy skater jeans. Her hair is in a messy bun, and she looks perfect.

She pulls out a book and starts reading without giving me a hint of recognition. She really doesn't remember me.

Good. That's good, right?

"Will you stop looking at me, pervert?" she asks suddenly, her voice sharp but with a shaky edge. I realize I've been staring at her since she sat down.

"I'm not."

"Tell that to yourself," she replies.

"Just wondering how your head is," I say casually, though my heart is racing.

"I'm sorry?" She asks like it's the craziest thing she's ever heard.

"Wow, you must have really gotten a concussion."

She rolls her eyes. "I didn't."

The professor starts the lecture, but I can't get Elena out of my head. She listens intently, picking at her nails, which are so short I can see the ragged edges and peeling skin. I'm half-listening to the professor, who assigns another essay. Great, another essay.

An hour later, Elena speaks again. "I remember how I know you, Jeremy Steves." She doesn't look away from the screen.

My breath hitches. "Oh yeah?"

"You're a hockey player," she says. "And a well-known dick."

I don't know how to reply.

"Not very surprising," she whispers.

"And why is that?" I counter.

"You hockey players have a type."

"Maybe the ones you've met."

She scoffs, a small smirk appearing on her face.

A soft pat on my shoulder makes me turn to see a pretty girl twirling her black hair between her fingers, smiling.

"Hey, you're Jeremy, right?" I nod.

"Sorry if this is a creepy question, but are you busy after class today?" She asks. I know her type-they barely know me but love the idea of dating someone on the hockey team.

"I'm busy, sorry."

"Oh, okay. How about tomorrow?"

"Look-I'm sorry, but I'm not really interested."

She visibly winces and walks away without another word, her friends huddling around her. I hear a snort from Elena. "Not a dick, huh?" She stands, gathers her books, and walks out, hugging her arms around her waist.

Elena

Of course the desk he is sitting at has the only free seat. Just my luck.

My legs felt shaky as I walk into the classroom, no one is looking at me- no one actually cares anyway- but still. I thought I left behind my anxiety when I left for college but I don't think it can ever leave you, I really did think this would be my fresh start. I guess it was for a while- two weeks.

I place my books onto the desk and slip into the seat- I see Jeremy staring at me, that dick probably remembers me as the girl who practically fell on top of him. I ignore him as I pull out my new book 'Love and other words'I'm only thirty pages in but I'm practically addicted.

Jeremy's eyes haven't wavered from me since I got here, "Will you stop looking at me pervert?" My words come out shaky and imprecise, like everything I'm doing today.

"I'm not." He says rather unconvincingly.

"Tell that to yourself."

"Just wondering how your head is." He says and I almost recoil with surprise.

"I'm sorry?" I could practically laugh at the idea of Jeremy caring for anyone's wellbeing, especially mine. Maybe he's changed his morals since middle school.

"Wow, you must of really gotten a concussion."

I roll my eyes, "I didn't."

The professor walks into the room and begins her lesson, I start picking at my nails- a habit though unsurprisingly not one of my worst ones. I open up my computer and begin writing the essay our professor said is due by tomorrow.

I don't know why I say it but I do, "I remember how I know you Jeremy Steves." The words are out of my mouth before my brain comprehends.

"Oh yeah?"

"You are a hockey player." I say, "As well as a well known dick."

He doesn't respond.

"Not very surprising," I whisper under my breath.

"And why is that?"

"You hockey players have a type." They are all cocky, arrogant bastards.

"Maybe the ones you've met."

That sentence is laughable, if Jeremy wasn't right beside me I'd be cackling on the ground right now- instead I just smile.

A tall, pretty girl with long black hair appears behind him and taps his shoulder.

"Hey, you are Jeremy, right?" The girl asks, though obviously she already knows who he is. "I'm sorry if this is a really creepy question or whatever but are you busy after class today?"

He stares at her for a moment, like she just asked the stupidest question in the world, that stare would be enough to make me shrink.

"I'm busy, sorry."

"Oh okay. How about tomorrow?" She sounds so hopeful like she really likes him.

"Look- I'm sorry but I'm not really interested in you." He says and girl turns away and walks back to her group of friends surrounding her desk.

I see her slowly shake her head as one of her friends hug her.

He most defiantly has not changed his morals since middle school.

I look up to see class has finished, "Not a dick, huh?" I stand up gathering my books in my bag and walking out of the classroom. I cover my arms around my waist it provides a sense of comfort. It makes me feel less exposed, like I'm in control and control is hard to come by.

"Really?" Fiona asks after I repeated the events of today.

"Really." I parrot.

"Boys suck." She says as she falls onto her neat bed.

"I'm right here in case you guys forgot." Matt says while spinning around on my desk chair.

"I guess your alright."

Jeremy Steves. His name just brings a sour taste to my tongue, I hate his guts. I groan and my head falls back onto a pile of soft toys, "Nothing in my life is fair." Fiona and Matt share a glance, "C'mon he isn't that bad." Fiona says.

"Are you kidding me Fiona? You were there in Elementary and middle school. He practically bullied me." She rolls her eyes at my despair.

"He didn't bully you. He was a dick, sure, but he didn't bully you Al, that's a little dramatic."

I peek between the toys I have drowned myself under, "No it was bullying. And the only reason he wasn't a complete dick to me today is because he doesn't remember me."

"Are you sure he doesn't remember you?" Matt asks.

"Positive." I reply sitting up, "He didn't call me Elena."

"But that's your name?" He asks confused.

"Elena is my name," I correct. "Elena is the name my friends call me. Not the name my enemy calls me."

"God you are so dramatic."

"You can't talk Fiona." I snap back. "You were crying the other day while watching Inside out, that movie isn't even sad!"

She mumbles something under her breath while Matt cackles in the corner of the room.

I throw my head into my hands, "I don't want to see him again."

"Too bad bae, you've got biology tomorrow."

I fall back into the comfort of stuffed animals, "You are my only friend now." I whisper to the purple bunny wearing a bowtie.

I wake up in a cold sweat.

My mind is spinning and I feel as if I could slip into the darkness forever.

Sometimes I feel like I can't control my mind- my thoughts- and the bad voices creep into my head. I just need to shut them out-shut them out because they are not here anymore- they can't reach me now.

I run to the bathroom and vomit my guts up, there is barely anything in my stomach to begin with- just liquid.

I decide to go on a run, it's not like I'm going to be able to sleep again now.

Running helps me focus- I just focus on each step I take to the finish line- each step until I can rest.

Once I get back outside of the apartment I sneak a secret cigarette, I told

Fiona I quit a couple of months ago- but that's what I do apparently- I lie- even though I try not to.

"Where did you go?" Fiona surprises me as I walk inside.

I jump and hold my hand to my chest, "Jesus Fiona, you scared out of me!"

"I'm not the one sneaking around our apartment." She counters.

I walk over to the fridge to get some water, "I'm not, I went on a run."

"At 5am?" She asks disbelievingly.

"Are you blind?" I motion to my bright red, sweaty body.

She pulls a face, "Gross Elena."

I shrug, "I'm going back to bed now."

Though of course I don't, I sit in my bed for so long- I barely notice that hours have gone by of me sitting in the darkness.

I walk into the lecture hall an hour early and find my seat at the back of the room, I sort threw my bag and find a granola bar that Fiona must of sneaked in. My stomach yearns for food, a liquid- anything, I take a bite of it and it makes me feel physically ill- I swallow the bar whole with a chug of my iced coffee.

I put in my air pods and continue to read Love and other words, how can words on paper literally have me swooning?

I see a trickle of students entering the lecture hall and then I see- him.

Him in all his arrogant self glory.

Jeremy Steves.

I glance back down to my book pretending to read it, how am I supposed to focus now? It's all his fault. It's been about a minute- he must of found a seat now so I look back up.. right where Jeremy is- standing directly beside me.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I snap after ten seconds of staring at him.

"Can you move your things?" He asks. I look around the classroom.

You've got to be kidding me.

Every. Other. Seat. Is. Field.

"Find somewhere else to sit." I roll my eyes and look back at my book.

He pauses for a second then crosses his arms and leans them across the table, "I'm not sure if you've noticed but there are no other seats."

"Then sit outside."

He rolls his eyes.

"Just move your books or I'll move them myself."

Son of a bitch.

He watches me slide them to the side then he sits down with a satisfied smile on his face, I glance towards the time- the professor should be here in two minutes.

"I never asked for your name." He says from beside me. "Elena." I mumble, looking down into my book- I'm at a good part now and I can't help but smile- I try to cover my face with my jumper before

Jeremy can see me.

The class starts and the professor starts rambling on about some random shit to do with chromosomes in living cells- it's enough to bore me to sleep.

"Looks like your about to fall asleep" Jeremy's voice whispers in my ear.

I turn my face towards him awaking me from drowsiness I am feeling,

"I'm sorry?"

His face looks panicked for a second-only a second.

So creep.

"No-no- I just mean you looked tired-"

"No shit sherlock." Probably because I only got three hours of sleep-four cups of coffee didn't even help.

"Wh-" He begins before the professor cuts him off.

"That's it for today class we have our next study session in three days. You are dismissed."

Thank gosh.

I almost can't get out of there fast enough.