Chapter Twenty Five - Crush Or Dignity

"Are you tone-deaf?"

Frustration was clear on Matt's face as he spat the question while my mouth fell open in surprise, feeling deeply offended by that.

"What? That was mean."

"Mean?" He scrutinized me for a moment, then cocked his head to the side incitingly. "Poor Becks. Did I hurt your feelings? Are you about to cry? Do you need someone to tuck you in bed tonight, perhaps with a comfort soft toy?"

"You..." I gritted my teeth in annoyance, grabbed the first thing I could find—his guitar's pick on the table between us—and threw it at him.

It barely hit him before falling to the floor, and he raised a brow at me. "Wow, you suck at throwing too."

"What do you mean too?" I crossed my arms. "If you're referring to music, I should remind you I'm new at this. Oh, and, you're a crappy teacher."

His eyes narrowed.

"That's right." I pointed a finger at him. "A crappy—"

"Rule number one of learning music," he cut me off. "Learn to take constructive criticism."

I scoffed. "You need to fire up google to learn the difference between criticism and insult."

"Rule number two," he continued, ignoring me. "Listen to your mentor."

I scoffed louder. "You are not my mentor."

"Rule number three, respect your mentor."

"Respect my ass!" I shouted, a little impatient over his behaviour. Then, a second later, I dropped my head into my hands and slowly slithered out of my chair, sunk to the floor next to Cheeto, and wrapped my arm around him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Matt get up and peek over the table.

"What the hell?"

"Leave me alone." I shut my eyes.

"What are you—"

"I need a break."

"Clearly."

"From you," I snapped.

I heard him exhale slowly and then, his footsteps leaving the room. I sighed in relief and just cuddled with the kittens for the next few minutes.

"Why is he like this? How do you guys manage to stay with him all the time?"

Cheeto purred while K2 climbed on my stomach to just casually lounge there.

"Meow," said K2, looking me right in the eyes.

"I know, right? He's a jerk." I shook my head, whispering, "bite him."

I stared up at the ceiling and mindlessly hummed the tune of Harry Potter until the door opened and my tormentor walked back in. He halted for a second when he saw me and the cats, grumbled something under his breath, and put a large cup down on the table.

"Get up. You're not sleeping on my floor."

I shuffled with a huff, making K2 jump off me and run into the corner while Cheeto remained motionless on the floor. I suddenly envied them as I planted myself back on the chair in front of my musical tyrant. Why did they get to sleep and eat all day without the fear of some crazy, stuck-up musician correcting their 'pitch flaws'?

But who was I kidding? Their meow was perfect. Cute, even. Perks of living with a bloody perfectionist.

I set my eyes back on Matt and involuntarily narrowed them. One of his brows perked up, then eventually lowered into a plain stare, and just like that, we went into a stare down.

Half a minute passed.

Neither of us budged, and while I watched him like I was seconds away from karate chopping him, he watched me like he was lowkey welcoming it. Like a person watching their angry little puppy and laughing on the inside over what it could possibly do.

He was looking at me like I was all bark, no bite. Oh, I'll bite you someday all right. You'll be very sorry for underestimating me then.

Finally, he opened his mouth and said with a straight face while pointing to the cup, "drink up."

"What is that?"

"Coffee."

I really needed that.

"I'm good."

"Do you want me to throw away a perfectly brewed coffee?"

Perfect, huh? He was way too conceited for his own good.

"Did you make this for me?"

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I'd like to consider the possibility of it being poisoned before I drink it."

"Why would I poison you?"

"Why wouldn't you—"

"...at my house with about a dozen witnesses knowing you're here with me?"

I narrowed my eyes further, simultaneously wrapping my hands around the cup and lifting it to my lips. "Good point. But I'm only having it because I'm against wasting food."

I wanted to sigh in relief the moment I took the first sip, but I couldn't let him have the satisfaction, so without showing my content on my face, I held my ground in the stare down.

I don't think either of us had been blinking.

"You didn't get much sleep last night, did you?" he finally asked.

"What makes you say that?"

"You've got nasty bags under your eyes."

I flinched, then glowered at him with distaste.

"Thank you for pointing out. I hadn't noticed it in the mirror all day."

Annoyingly enough, a little smirk curled across his lips. "Glad I could help."

He was right, though. I'd barely slept last night. I should've been delighted after seeing mom's reaction to the whole singing thing, but now I was worried about disappointing her if I lost.

In the morning, when she'd seen me up early, she'd joyfully kissed my forehead, saying, "you must be so focused on that competition. You never wake up this early."

And then, while leaving home, she'd given me a knowing smile and patted my shoulder, saying, "go rock it. And let us know if you need anything. A trainer or maybe an instrument. Just anything."

"I'm good," I'd said, not telling her about Matt.

I was kinda happy. Stressed, sure but happy. She'd never taken so much interest in my life before. Not to mention, over some petty competition she knew nothing about. She must've been really worried about my college application.

"You know what? We'll pick it up from here tomorrow. You're in no shape to train today." My enemy's voice made me blink out of my thoughts, and I found him studying my face.

"And whose fault is that?" My eyes narrowed accusingly.

"Am I the reason why you couldn't sleep at night?"

"You could never be, Williams. No."

"Then not my fault." He shrugged.

"I meant in the past hour; you've exhausted my voice and my mind. Would it kill you to let me finish a song without interrupting me for once?"

"Correcting you, you mean."

"You can correct me once I'm done singing. Or do you just get this itch to stop me right in the middle of the verse just to show me the exact moment where I suck so you can rub it in my face?"

A frown fell over his lips, but it appeared to be a pensive one as after a moment, he nodded. "Fine. We'll try your way tomorrow."

"What?" I blinked in disbelief. "Really?"

Did he just agree with me?

He only rolled his eyes in response.

"Wow." I was at a loss of words for a moment. "I suddenly feel so much better, now that I've put it out there. Nice. I said it."

I smiled brightly, got up, and stepped towards the door while saying, "I'm gonna go home now. When I come back tomorrow, you're gonna remember this conversation we had."

He stared at my retreating figure blankly, seeming on the verge of being done with me.

I felt something near my feet and found Cheeto standing in the doorway as if ready to leave with me.

"Hey, there." I ducked down to press a kiss on his head, and he put his tiny paw on my palm. Aw! I smothered him with another kiss, feeling an overload of aggressive cuteness where I just wanted to squish the little dude for being so freaking adorable. "You wanna come home with me? You like being at my house, don't you?"

Matt muttered something incoherent.

"What?" I asked, staring up at him as he steadied his guitar against the table.

"Nothing."

The other two kittens grabbed my attention when they started circling my feet, and I chuckled. "I really hope this is their way of showing me affection and not a scheme to surround and murder me someday."

"I wouldn't be surprised if that happened."

"What is that supposed to mean now?" I threw him a look over my shoulder.

"Haven't you heard? Excess of everything is harmful. All that affection you shower on them, they must be sick of it already. I bet every time you smother them with kisses..." One side of his mouth raised with distaste. "...they wanna scratch you."

"Of course, you say that, think like that." I smiled bitterly. "But you'll be surprised to know that they love the affection. They might be your cats, but thankfully, they're nothing like you."

His smirk faltered a bit, and my smile only grew wider.

I turned to the cats, suddenly speaking animatedly like people did with children, "I'll see you guys tomorrow. Bye-bye!"

Another round of aggressive kisses was delivered to each of them before I finally walked out of the music room and his house.

While crossing the street, I saw Mrs. Brooke heading back inside after her evening stroll in the garden.

"Hey!" I greeted with a smile, following her to the kitchen.

"Hey! Somebody looks cheerful." Her eyes twinkled with curiosity.

"Oh, it's nothing." I chuckled. "Just scored a point over a certain musician. That puts me in a bright mood."

She propped her elbows on the counter and rested her face on her hands, smiling. "I see."

"Are you hungry?" I opened the refrigerator to fetch the cake I'd baked last night and placed it on the counter.

"You know about this cake? I've been wondering since morning how it ended up inside our refrigerator."

"Yeah, I baked. Did you taste it?"

"A foreign item in the fridge? No thanks. Wait! You can bake?" She had a ridiculous look on her face as I cut two slices and put them in two plates, sliding one plate towards her.

"It's the easiest thing ever thanks to my friend YouTube."

"When did you even make it? I didn't hear a thing. It must've been late."

"It was." I nodded.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

I didn't tell her anything last night, yet she knew something was wrong with me. She'd given me a hug after dinner once my parents went upstairs, saying 'whatever it is, it's gonna be okay', and I'd shed a single tear before going up to my room.

Maybe I'd taken my mom's words a bit too profoundly. She was just worried about my future, like any parent.

"No, but I'm fine," I replied to Mrs. Brooke reassuringly.

"Good to know." She smiled softly and finally tasted the cake, chewed a little to test the flavours, and then her eyes widened. "Oh my God, Becks! You've got to teach me that."

I grinned. "Done!"

I grabbed my own plate and started eating, instantly deciding I could become a chef someday even though all I did was mix the batter and bake it.

"How's your training coming along with Matt?" Mrs. Brooke asked while wiping the last morsel of cake off her plate with her finger and licking it.

I blew out a breath. "Oh, don't get me started."

*****

The next morning, I was leaning against my driveway light pole, waiting for Mack's car, when a certain enemy of mine stepped out of his house across the street.

He saw me, and we both just stared. It wasn't like we waved at each other or anything. After a moment, he proceeded to open the backdoor of his car to shove his bag inside while I looked down at my nails, then at the street up ahead to look for my friend's car.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a text.

Cheryl: I know you wanted to watch the practice but we're running late. Sorry, Becks.

Rebekah: How much longer?

Cheryl: Half an hour :(

Rebekah: >.< It's fine. I'll watch it tomorrow.

I slid my phone back in my pocket and looked up at Matt, who'd just started the engine. His eyes met mine, and he observed me for a few seconds. Then, as if he realized something, a little knowing smirk reached his lips.

I quickly looked away, noticing his car pulling out of his driveway from the corner of my eye. To my surprise, instead of driving off, he steered it across the street and pulled up right next to me.

The window rolled down, and he sat there in all his conceited splendour, back straight against the seat and arms stretched over to the steering wheel.

"Let me guess. Your options are to either ask me for a ride or wait for the school bus."

What the hell? How did he know I needed a ride? Was I that obvious?

I reminded myself that I'd told him I would never get in his car again. Don't consider it, Becks. Choose your dignity over watching your crush. Choose it every day.

I inhaled. "No. My friends are coming to get me."

"Really? Then why do I feel like you're dying to ask me for a ride?"

"I don't know. You must be mistaken." I shrugged.

"Okay then!" The window rolled up simultaneously with the car starting to pull away.

"Wait!" My mouth spoke of its own volition, making my eyes grow wide. Traitor!

The car stopped moving, and the window, which was halfway up, rolled back down.

"Yes?"

I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Nothing. Just drive off already."

His head tilted, bemused.

"You said you'll never ride in my car again when you were mad about the comment. But then I agreed to train you. I think it kind of makes up for it. So, if you really need it, you can ask me for a ride."

I raised a brow. "It's almost like you want me in your car with you."

"I just want you to ask me. I never said I'll agree."

I scoffed. "You're a jerk."

"I know." He smirked. How could someone's mere presence be so annoying? I pressed my lips together to hold back a curse.

"Since you reminded me about the comment, I'll have you know that I asked Chad to take down that video you commented on, and unlike you, he actually took responsibility and took it down."

"And you're telling me this because?"

"To remind you, once again, of your lack of morals and sense of righteousness."

"Do you take bible classes?"

My eyes narrowed. "No."

"Then why do you talk like that?"

"Be-because I watch Disney movies," I retorted. Okay, people in Disney movies didn't talk like that either. I really didn't know why I talked like a granny in front of him.

Maybe because he was wicked enough to bring out the oldie within me.

"Whatever. I'm getting late." He averted his eyes from my face to the passenger seat.

I didn't know if that was a subtle invite to give me a ride, but I was frustrated enough to start to open the passenger door already. But it was locked.

My enemy's smirk only became wider while he made no active move to unlock it.

"So, you do need a ride."

I crossed my arms, inhaling very sharply to somehow keep my cool.

He leaned back in his seat and shrugged. "You're gonna have to ask me for it, Becks."

That was totally done on purpose.

"Oh sure. I'll ask you." I leaned down and folded my arms over the window. "Are you getting out of here, or do I have to start walking to school to get rid of the sight of your annoying face?"

He raised both his brows, amused. "Walk? I thought your friends were coming to get you."

"Seriously, Matt, aren't you getting late for practice?"

"I am, but nothing makes my morning better than a frown on your face."

I watched cautiously as he leaned over to the passenger side and finally pushed the door open for me. I stared between the passenger seat and the road ahead undecidedly.

Sean or my dignity. Sean or dignity.

"What am I getting in return this time?" he interrupted my inner debate.

"Who's thinking in transactions now?"

"Guess I learnt from the worst."

Do not punch him, Becks. I took in a deep breath, then recalled if Mrs. Brooke had prepared an extra avocado toast. She hadn't. "Will chocolate cake do?"

He pretended to think for a moment, then shrugged. "I can work with that."

"Then I'll get it, you food monster."

I went back to the house, fetched a lunchbox, and added to it a slice from the chocolate cake I'd baked. Then I texted Cheryl that I had a ride, and her and Mack didn't need to come and pick me up.

Lunchbox in one hand, I marched out of my house grudgingly.

The passenger door was still open. He glanced over his shoulder at me, a devilish gleam sitting in his eyes, and as I walked up to his car, with each step, I could see his ego being cranked up a notch. My pace slowed with indecision. Was Sean worth letting my enemy win again?

He was, but I had to draw a line somewhere.

I placed the lunchbox on the passenger seat and shut the door, leaning over the window again.

Matt's brows crinkled.

"I choose dignity." I smiled at him bitterly and started walking down the street.

After about fifteen seconds, I heard the low rumbling of his engine behind me, getting closer, and I'd be lying if I said that I was just expecting him to drive off without a word. He slowed down next to me.

"What are you doing?" he called.

"What does it look like?" I kept my eyes ahead. "I'm walking to school."

"Why?"

"Wow. Aren't you oblivious?" I scoffed. "Because I don't want to go anywhere with you."

His smirk wore off a little, but the arrogance in his eyes did not. "Alright. You can skip the drama, Andrews."

"It's not drama. Feel free to drive off. I mean it, Williams." I gave him a very fleeting fake smile.

"You're really gonna walk all the way to the school?"

"Wouldn't be the first time..." I flashed him my earphone case, reminding him he'd left me at school to walk home once. "...right?"

Recognition flashed in his eyes, which should've been followed by remorse, but who was I kidding? He rolled his eyes. "Will you just get in the car already?"

"Nope."

His brows furrowed. "Stop being stubborn and get in the car, Rebekah."

Rebekah, huh? Not Becks? Looks like I'm riling him up.

I raised a challenging brow at him. "You think you can make me?"

Maybe being challenged was his trigger since he went into an abrupt silence, his brown eyes considering me carefully until they seemed to have arrived at a conclusion. And when they lit up with something evil, I knew he'd accepted that challenge.

"And don't try to pick me up and throw me into your car. It might have worked at school, but out here, I'll make sure you get arrested," I warned.

"I don't have to do that."

My brows pulled together in confusion, but I continued walking nonetheless, anticipating his move, but he just kept driving next to me at a very slow pace.

"Just so you know, you look like a creep following me in your car like this."

He shrugged, not giving up on tailing me, which was starting to irritate me. And I knew he could tell that.

"So, this is your game? Following me? You're so childish." I scoffed.

He looked completely unfazed as he kept up with it.

I tried my best to keep my eyes ahead, but I couldn't help but cut a glance at him. He seemed to be enjoying it all while I was running out of breath trying to leave him behind.

"Quit it, Williams," I snapped, frustrated. "We both know you don't care about driving me to school. You're just doing this because you're as stubborn as me. And in case you have forgotten, you have a football practice to get to on time."

"You've known me long enough to know that I don't care about the football practice anymore, Andrews."

"Then what do you care about?" I narrowly avoided a randomly parked bicycle on the sidewalk since all my energy was currently being focused in that silly war.

"About getting you in this car and winning your little challenge."

Of course. Everything was a game for him.

"You're just wasting your time." With that, I fixed my gaze straight ahead and decided to completely ignore him, expecting him to drive off, but a minute passed, and his car was still beside me.

I shot him a glare, and he returned it with a stubborn little smirk.

"I can't believe you're willing to miss practice just to tread on my heels because of a stupid challenge."

"I really don't mind, Becks. But can you handle this for the rest of your walk to the school?"

I gritted my teeth together. Somehow, he always found a way to win, but not this time. I picked up pace, and soon, I was jogging on the sidewalk. Obviously, I was no match against his car, even when he had to stop at a signal. He caught up within fifteen seconds, and I groaned in frustration.

"Fine!" I snapped, stopping in my tracks. He stopped too, thinking I was yielding, but instead of getting into his car, I ran into a small alley, which was supposedly a shortcut and grinned in victory when I looked back. Ha! Take that!

He would never accurately be able to judge the time I would take to connect with the road again or which exit I would be using.

I happily marched my way to school, and right before connecting on the road, I looked left and right. His car was nowhere to be spotted, so I happily started walking while humming a tune.

My happiness lasted for thirty seconds.

A loud horn startled me, and before I could turn around, a car slowed down next to me. My enemy sat behind the wheel, his eyes sparkling.

"There you are. Lost you for a second there."

"Fuck it!" I groaned. "I cannot believe you're so petty. You're a psychopath, Williams."

I stomped towards his car, snapped open the passenger door, got in and snapped it shut. "You win, happy?"

"Is that even a question?"

The car picked up pace victoriously. I noticed my lunchbox on the dashboard and the half-eaten cake slice in it just as he ate another spoonful. Great! So, he was enjoying the cake I'd baked while tormenting me.

I snatched it and ate a mouthful in annoyance, still breathing heavily from all that sprinting.

"Hey!" He frowned.

"You only geh half fau wha you juss did." I stuffed my mouth with the rest of the cake before he had a chance to grab it.

He shot me a dirty look, eyeing me up and down as if to make sure I hadn't strewn any on his precious car seat.

"No loss. I wouldn't have eaten all of it before practice anyway." He shrugged. "Tell Mrs. Brooke it was delicious."

"Actually, you can thank me for that. I baked it."

One side of his mouth raised in disapproval. "In that case, it wasn't that special."

"Of course."

Just to vent my frustration a little, I reached forward and turned the music on. As expected, a little frown fell over his lips.

Wanna get on a guy's nerves? Mess with his car even if it's something as harmless as touching the stereo.

"Enjoying?" I blinked innocently.

He didn't say anything.

Then I increased the volume, making his head slowly turn to me. I batted my lashes. "Is there a problem, Matthew?"

He rolled his eyes before fixing them back on the road.

Once my breathing had returned to normal and I'd chugged about half a litre water, I relaxed back in my seat and started enjoying the music until my phone rang. It was Cheryl.

"Becks! Oh my God!" she shouted the moment I hit answer.

"What happened? What's wrong, Cher?"

"Did you study for the math test?"

"What math te—" I gasped. "Shit! That's today?"

"Yes." She let out a cry. "We're screwed."

"I cannot believe I forgot about it. I'm failing. I'm totally failing it."

"Me, too. And I've never gotten below a C. How could we forget about this?"

I shut my eyes and exhaled. I had a feeling my parents were going to get a call from my math teacher this time.

"Do you think a last-minute prep is worth a shot?" Cheryl asked. " I'm on my way to school and I'll pull up some important stuff. Meet me in the library?"

"I can't believe I'm about to sacrifice watching the practice to study in the library."

"Sometimes you just have to. I better see you there. Bye."

I hung up and held my head in my hands, groaning. "This is why I want a career in sports."

"Have you ever played a sport?"

I snapped my eyes to him.

"Not right now, Williams," I warned. "And yes. Of course, I've played a sport."

"Hopscotch doesn't count."

My jaw dropped. "You sexist—"

"Or running in PE like you're doing the teacher a favour."

"I could beat your ass at football if I wanted to. Don't challenge me."

He turned his head to me, not a hint of levity in his tone as he said, "don't make me do it, Andrews. Don't do this to yourself."

Well, he had a point.

My cheeks turned red in embarrassment. What was I even thinking? Of course, I had no shot against him. Or anyone else for that matter. Not at football, not at anything else.

Mom's words started ringing in my ears. Doesn't have a hobby. Not the brightest kid in the class. End up in some community college.

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Matt cut me a glance. I must've been moping because he remained silent for the longest he'd gone without a follow up insult before saying, "you can land a punch though. So, I wouldn't be surprised if you kicked someone's ass at kickboxing."

I almost gave myself a whiplash when I turned to him so quickly. Did he just say something nice to me? Who was he and what had he done to my enemy?

Regardless, it made me let out a chuckle and forget all about my self-pity.

"Right. So, you better not challenge me there, Williams."

"Someone's ass, Andrews. Not mine." He clicked his tongue. "Not a chance."

Why is he like this?

My eyes narrowed and I opened my mouth, ready to throw a tantrum but when I looked at his face, I stopped breathing. Because he had a hint of a smile on his lips. Not the infuriating smirks or sarcastic sneers I was used to getting from him. It was an actual smile.

And something about it instantly made me forget about my annoyance and ease up.

"You're an ass," was all I said and looked out of the window, counting the cars as they passed by.

"So, you go to school early to watch the football practice?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

The question knocked my brain awake and I slowly turned my head to him. He had curiosity in his eyes as he gave me a once-over. I could see where that was going.

"No reason. Just like watching the game." I shrugged as casually as possible.

"So, you're saying you wake up early every morning, get to school before school hours just to watch football practice when you can easily watch full games on YouTube anytime you want?"

I bit down at my lip. "Yes."

One of his brows perked up and I looked out of the window, feeling the weight of the silence between us. I was desperate to come up with some kind of explanation.

"I..." I faltered for a second. No, Becks! You can't falter here. You can't risk letting your enemy know about your crush. He'll ruin everything. So, I straightened up in my seat and blurted, "I like watching it live."

I risked a glance at him and just then, he cut his eyes at me dubiously. He wasn't convinced.

"I once tried watching it online and fell asleep halfway..." I added with a nervous chuckle. "...and I'd rather watch it from the bleachers than strain my eyes in front of a screen. Did you know about eighty percent teenagers have to start wearing glasses—"

"Got it."

"Good," I said almost thankfully because I was just making up the data. He looked a bit weirded out as he eyed me.

And I was back to staring out of the window.

"I didn't know you were so interested in football, Becks," he continued after a moment, lowering the music volume for some reason.

"Um..." I swallowed. We drove past a red car, then a black one...crossed one tree, second tree—no! Look at him. I turned my head and offered him a shrug. "What sport did you think I was talking about when I said I wanted a career in sports?"

"I see." He nodded, eyes lingering on my face with a hint of suspicion before they went back to the road.

I released a breath.

Once the car came to a stop in the school parking lot, I stepped out and took in a deep breath in the fresh morning air. The parking lot was empty, which was one of the reasons why I liked coming to school early. It was so quiet and peaceful.

I looked towards the football field while stretching my arms over my head, hating the fact that I was going to have to head to the library instead.

"Andrews!"

My enemy's voice made me snap around and my eyes widened at the football charging towards me. Owing to my unrealized quick reflexes, I caught it, exhaling in relief.

I let out a laugh, tilting my head to grin at Matt from beside the ball. "You saw that? That was a nice catch. Ha! In your face."

He gave a half shrug. "Or beginner's luck. Either way, maybe you can have a sports career after all."

"Why the hell would you throw it like that? What if I hadn't caught it and it hit me in the face?"

"Then I'd have to carry you to the nurse's office again, Becks! Be more careful."

Narrowing my eyes, I tossed the ball back to him but it ended up in a completely different direction than intended and he practically had to bend his upper body sideways to catch it. Not to mention, he caught it with one hand, leaving me staring at him with an open mouth. Wow! Guess elegance is a perk of the game.

"Nice throw," he taunted.

"Everyone starts somewhere." I shrugged with half a smile and extended my arms forward, prepared to catch the ball again. "Throw it back."

He scoffed like I'd asked for something ridiculous. "No."

"Come on." I clapped my hands, full of motivation.

"Okay. You better catch it."

Wow! That was quick.

He swung his arm forward and I leaped to catch the ball but it never came because he'd just faked the throw. I deadpanned, the sight of which made him let out a dark chuckle. Jerk!

"Want it?" He waved the ball in the air teasingly.

"Throw it, dammit!"

"Alright."

Once again, I believed him and leapt forward but he'd faked it again. I inhaled a sharp breath, ready to blow a fuse while he looked amused at the sight of my face.

"Okay now catch it. Seriously, this time." He made a move to throw it at me and not wanting to take any chances going by his unpredictability, I prepared myself to catch a third time, but it was another fake throw.

Thrice. He'd fooled me thrice.

"Seriously?" I snapped.

He'd gotten on my last nerve. I marched up to him to snatch the ball but he lifted his arm up above his head, making it impossible for me to reach it despite getting up on my tiptoes.

"Uh oh, looks like you can't reach it, Andrews." He clicked his tongue.

"You jerk. Give it here." I pushed myself off the ground and almost reached it, only to have him lift it higher. His eyes were full of mischief, and I felt like a clown entertaining him in the parking lot.

"I'll push you to the ground," I warned.

"You're welcome to try." He smirked, shifting the ball in his other hand, still keeping it above his head during my consistent attempts to retrieve it.

I didn't really want the football that bad. But it was the fact that he was playing with me that made me want to nab it.

"Give it to me, Williams. Or I swear to God I'll..." I put my hand on his shoulder, attempting to pull his arm down, but it was all in vain.

But all my efforts ceased when he took a step forward and backed me up against his car.

And I stopped breathing when I looked into his eyes. The playfulness in them had toned down and I had a feeling it hadn't happened just recently. Now they were dark and challenging, a deadly combination in him as I'd grown to learn.

"Or you'll what?" he whispered in a husky voice, and I swallowed, forgetting all about our little war.

Because how could I focus on anything else when he was so close? So close that I could feel his chest mere inches apart from mine, especially when I inhaled. And when his brown eyes were boring into mine so intently. And how something in them shifted when they lowered to my mouth.

"I'll..." I sucked in a breath.

"Rebekah?"

I turned to the source of voice in my daze and found myself grateful for leaning against Matt's car already for support because I wasn't prepared to see the person. Not until after practice, at least.

I only realized how close Matt had been standing when he pulled away.

"Sean!" I managed a smile.

"Hey, Matt." Sean nodded at him before looking back at me. "You guys came here together?"

"Yes—no! I mean, not together together, if that's what you meant..." I trailed off. Shut up, you desperate psycho.

"I hitched a ride," I finally said, a little breathless for some reason. "We're neighbours."

"Yeah, I knew that."

He did?

"By the looks of it, she's probably going to be hitching a ride for a while," Matt cut in. I am? I raised a brow at him. He was now spinning the football in his hands, waiting for me to argue.

So, he just assumed I would need a ride every day? But that would be very convenient, wouldn't it? I already despised having Mack and Cheryl going out of their way to pick me up, moreover earlier than school hours.

So, I did not argue with Matt. If he was okay with the idea of me riding with him, I could work with it, too.

"So, get used to seeing her at the bleachers every morning, watching the game." His eyes gleamed cryptically.

"Oh yes," Sean replied. "I was just telling her the other day how I love her focus on the game."

"Were you?" Matt raised his brows, then his body stiffened with supposed realization as he looked between me and Sean. "I didn't know you guys talked. Never seen you together."

Oh God! Please don't let him figure out I have a thing for Sean. He'll find a way to mess it up.

"Not all the time." I laughed nervously. "Between classes. Whenever we run into each other. That's it."

"Yeah." Sean's eyes fell on me, and I found something different in them. Besides his usual friendliness, there was a hint of...disappointment?

"Anyway," Sean continued, "it's why I asked her to watch the upcoming game with me. Too bad you can't make it, but thanks for your ticket, man."

Oh, so that's where Sean got an extra ticket from? I bet Matt wouldn't have given it up if he knew I would be getting it. I could see the regret behind his deep scowl already.

"Really? That's so sweet of you, Matt. Thank you." I brought my hand up to my chest dramatically and batted my lashes.

He narrowed his eyes and gave a curt nod. "Yeah, no problem. Enjoy the game. It's gonna suck anyway."

I tilted my head a fraction. "Yeah, because you know everything."

"Actually..." Sean cut in. "He does. I'll give him that. Guy says the game's gonna suck, I'm ready to bet my money it's gonna suck. Besides, the Spring Runners are playing. He never watches their games."

"Why not?"

"Because they suck," Matt answered, suddenly looking like he'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed. His mood changed like the weather.

"Oh, are they not good enough to match your perfect standards? I bet they're not half as bad as you say." I crossed my arms, provoking him as usual. In my defense, he loved doing the same.

"They're really not," Sean said. "It's one of my favourite teams, actually."

"Oh!" I smiled. "I guess I'm gonna like them too then."

His lips pulled back into a cute grin as he looked me up and down for a brief second with suggestive eyes. Did he just check me out? I was suddenly conscious of what I was wearing—a peach tank top with black denim shorts and white sneakers. Not bad.

"You will." He winked. Aw!

I was focusing on his face too intently. So, when Matt unexpectedly slammed the door of his car shut, I jumped in surprise and turned to him with a glare.

For some reason, his mood seemed to have worsened. I could tell he was in one of those moods where he was going to say something and not care about it pissing me off.

"Aren't you late?" he demanded.

"For what?" I raised a brow.

"I'm not talking to you." He snapped his eyes to Sean. "Practice?"

"Oh, right!" Sean blinked. "Actually, no! You forgot we're supposed to begin late today. The guys are still in the changing room. It'll probably be a few minutes before they're out on the field. We can hang out for a while."

I turned to Matt. So much for not caring about football practice and just getting me in his car. Why did I feel betrayed anyway? It was Matt. He breathed lies and manipulation.

I didn't understand what the hell was wrong with him, though. He'd seemed fine in the car earlier, and now he looked like just the sound of us talking was setting him off.

So, before he could do or say something to ruin my bright morning, I cut in, "Matt was just leaving. He was just telling me in the car how bad he had to use the bathroom," I made an excuse.

He tilted his head in my direction. "I was?" he asked with narrowed eyes, and just like that, it morphed into an inciting stare as he threw the ball from one hand to another. I scowled at him and watched his lips curl into a smirk—something different about it as it did not reach his eyes—before he nodded. "Of course, I was."

He walked away but not before saying over his shoulder, "see you at my house after school, Becks."

I cringed. I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!

"I didn't know you guys hung out that much," Sean said once he was gone.

"We don't. It's just..." I didn't want him to know Matt was training me. Not like that. It would've come out of nowhere. "...we're neighbours. And it's kinda inevitable, you know? We run into each other and talk about stuff. That's all."

"Oh? And here I thought you guys didn't get along. That you had some serious rival history."

I frowned. "Where did you hear that?"

"People talk. Especially since your performance. 'Enemies turned lovers' has kinda been all over the place."

Once again, I laughed out loud. "I didn't know I was that famous. And it's true Matt and I didn't get along and we still barely do. But that's a topic I don't wanna touch upon at the moment."

I didn't want to recall that stuff now that things were getting kinda normal with Matt. I was never going to forget what he'd done but I just felt that we were way past that now.

"Up until last week, I really thought you two were a thing. Owing to the changing room video, then your performance and his comment."

"You read his comment?"

"Yeah."

I fucking knew it! Things like that never went unnoticed. Not in my case.

"Matt was just messing." I laughed. "Trust me. We're not together. Never will be."

"Yes. I kinda figured when you chose pineapple pizza over pecking him."

My mouth opened slightly. "I thought you weren't eavesdropping."

"I wasn't. Not intentionally." He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and I nodded.

"Are you coming to watch the game? Practice is about to start."

I blushed when I felt his hand on the small of my back to direct me towards the field. Why was the universe so cruel with its timing?

"No, I can't." I pouted. "I gotta go study in the library for my math test. I'm supposed to meet my friend there."

"That's a shame." He smiled, withdrawing his hand almost reluctantly and my blush deepened.

"Bye. Good luck." I waved at him while taking a step towards the building.

"Bye, Rebekah."

His blue eyes remained locked on my face longer than I had expected and he exhaled before turning around and finally walking towards the field.