Chapter 1 Blake Hartwell and I had been at war since we were five. Kindergarten? He pantsed me in front of everyone. I ripped his gold star off the classroom chart. Elementary? He sabotaged my backpack. I filled his cleats with sand-payback's a BITCH. High school was worse. The bastard switched his entire academic track just to compete with me. Every test, every grade, every DAMN thing became a battle. "Crushing you makes my whole fucking day," he'd smirk. So I made sure his thirsty DMs to the popular girls went viral. Got him suspended, ruined his reputation. Worth it. Fifteen years of this toxic cycle until I finally snapped. Then graduation hit, I picked schools down south, specifically avoiding his East Coast targets. Moving day, he blocked my path, eyes like ice: "Running away, coward? Hope you fucking die out there and stay dead." gripped my suitcase and swore I'd never see his face again. ive years later, we collided at West Valley High's 50th reunion. lake showed up as their golden boy, took one look at my beat-up jacket, and started cracking up: Well, well, well. Look who's back. So what are you now-the janitor? Jesus, without me around to motivate you, you really became a total loser. What's next, ood stamps?" Iere's what he didn't know: I wasn't there to clean anything. he whole reunion? A charity fundraiser for ME. lake's entrance was pure Hollywood bullshit-news vans, photographers, the whole nine yards swarming campus. le ditched every interview just to come flex on me. Blake, you've got this wrong. I'm not here to-" le cut me off mid-sentence. Skylar, when are you gonna just ADMIT you're a loser? That stubborn bitch attitude hasn't changed one bit!" ure, his face had lost that baby fat, but inside? Same old Blake-had to win everything, had to prove he was better than me. unior year I won State for my architectural model. He said I only got it 'cause my mom knew the judges. When I chose UCLA for design school, he said I was chickening out, too scared to compete on the East Coast where the real programs were. 'Face it, Skylar-you're WEAK. Always have been!" I stared at those familiar competitive eyes and felt myself grin. Yeah well... I'm dying anyway. After fifteen years of this bullshit, might as well go one more round. I looked him dead in the face and pointed at the International Design Awards poster behind him. "Blake, what makes you think me being here means you've won?" Predictable) 7.096 He actually blinked-probably wasn't expecting me to fight back. Then he just cracked up. "YOU? You think you're good enough for international competition?" "Why not? Pretty obvious, isn't it?" I'm already killing it in the design world. And you're... what, fetching coffee?" He threw his arms up, making sure everyone could see-he was successful, I was trash. Fifteen years later, he was finally the winner. Our old classmates started gathering around like it was some reality show drama. Damn, is that Skylar? She looks rough." Girl was a straight genius back in the day. What a waste." lake's grin got nastier: "Y'all don't even know. She HAD to go to California, HAD to start her own studio. Five years later? Can't even keep a regular job." ight there in front of everyone-teachers, classmates, random parents-he was shredding what was left of my dignity. ty fingers went white gripping the medical assistance form Principal Rodriguez had given me. ty mouth tasted like copper. kylar, did you finish your aid application?" rincipal Rodriguez spotted me and hurried over, all worried. ty face went red with embarrassment. didn't want my classmates knowing about my situation. Especially not Blake. (0) ⊙ (0)