Eighteen Below Him

Samira's POV

The second day back after the weekend always felt like walking into a war zone created by Monday.

Saint Trenton High smelled like cafeteria pizza and industrial hand sanitizer. The halls were a chaotic symphony of loud laughter, shouting, and the occasional slamming locker. I tried to walk calmly, keeping my backpack pulled tight against my shoulder, but of course he was there. He was standing by the lockers with his friends, arms crossed over his chest, smirking at something Chris said.

I groaned silently. Two weeks remained until my birthday. And yet, I could neither avoid him nor approach him with any sense of dignity. This was proving to be harder than I imagined.

Novia and Amanda appeared at my side like guardian angels or mischief incarnate.

"Good morning, Sam." Amanda said, nudging me with her elbow. "Ready for another thrilling day of high school survival?"

I rolled my eyes. "Thrilling? I would settle for uneventful."

Novia smirked, her eyes scanning the crowd. "Uneventful is boring, and boring does not get you ready for college or for him."

I groaned again, feeling my stomach twist into a complicated knot. "You two are truly insane."

First period was math, thankfully. It was a subject where I usually found some logic, but even there, I could not hide in the corner like I wanted. Calvin walked in five minutes late, his backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder, moving as if he owned the very air in the room. He caught my eye just briefly and then let that smirk play on his lips.

I quickly looked down at my notebook, pretending to be deeply focused on the equations Mrs. Talbot was scrawling on the board. My pen tapped a nervous, rapid rhythm against the paper. I could feel him watching me. I knew it. My heartbeat picked up speed, though I told myself it was just my imagination fueled by my friends' nonsense.

Passing periods were significantly worse. I tried to make it to my locker without running into the crew, but as I turned the corner, there he was again. He was leaning against a locker, one foot propped up casually against the metal.

"Fancy seeing you here." he said, the smirk dancing on his lips.

I rolled my eyes, refusing to be charmed by his proximity. "I am everywhere, apparently, just like you."

His smirk widened, reaching his eyes. "Touché."

I tried to keep walking, but he stepped slightly into my path. "Where are you rushing off to, Sam?"

"To avoid talking to you." I muttered.

He chuckled softly, a low sound that made an annoying heat rise to my cheeks. "Harsh. And here I thought we had a solid foundation of mutual disdain."

I scoffed. "We do. It is very mutual."

He leaned slightly closer, just enough for me to feel the sudden weight of his presence. "Then why do you seem so annoyed at me all the time?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Because you are infuriating."

"That is fair." he said lightly, finally stepping aside so I could pass.

I moved past him with my head held high, fighting the desperate urge to glance back over my shoulder. My stomach fluttered in a way that was definitely not annoyance.

By the time lunch rolled around, I was emotionally exhausted just from navigating the hallways. Amanda and Novia were waiting at our usual table, already deep in a discussion about some new gossip involving Ashley Johnson.

"You are late." Novia said, grabbing my arm to pull me into the seat. "Did Calvin harass you in the hall?"

I groaned, dropping my head toward the table. "Yes. He is everywhere."

Amanda smirked. "And you liked it."

I nearly choked on my soda. "I did not!"

"You did." Novia insisted, waving a salty fry for emphasis. "Do not lie to us. That little smirk you get? You know the one I mean. Your cheeks literally turn red."

I groaned again and buried my face in my hands. "You two are hopeless."

Novia leaned back, clearly enjoying my distress. "We are just trying to help you use your natural strengths."

"Strengths?" I asked warily.

Amanda tilted her head, looking thoughtful. "Your wit, your allure, and your ability to make him frustrated while you look perfectly composed."

I blinked, confused. "I am not trying to do that."

"Sure." Novia said. "Keep telling yourself that. But we all know you are going to enjoy the process."

I groaned again, feeling both irritated and something else I was not yet ready to put a name to.

Third period was English again. I had hoped that by partnering with someone else for the next stage of the project, I could avoid the storm that was Calvin Simms. Of course, my hopes were dashed before the bell even stopped ringing.

"Sam." Mrs. Huntington said, checking her clipboard. "You are with Calvin Simms."

My stomach sank. The boy I hated and had a complicated, confusing history with was now my forced collaborator once again. He leaned back in his chair, that smirk still firmly in place.

"Don't waste my time, Sam." he said.

I raised an eyebrow, finding my voice. "Excuse me? I was about to say the exact same thing to you."

He chuckled, and I wanted to throttle him. He was calm, composed, smirking, and infuriating. The perfect trifecta of annoyance. We got to work on our analysis, but our hands occasionally brushed over the notebook, causing me to tense with every accidental touch.

"You know..." he said softly, "You could actually be less hostile if you really wanted to."

I snorted. "I could say the same thing about you."

He leaned just slightly closer, enough that I could catch the faint, clean scent of his cologne. My pulse jumped, and I quickly looked away to the text. "Stop leaning." I muttered.

"Stop glaring." he countered, his voice low and teasing.

We spent the next forty minutes in a subtle war of words and glances. Every correction he made and every smirk he shot my way made my pulse race. I did not want to feel this way, and yet, I did.

After class, we headed back toward the cafeteria. I was halfway through my sandwich when I noticed Calvin talking to a girl from another grade. He was laughing, leaning in toward her casually.

Jealousy hit me like a physical blow before I could stop it. My friends noticed the shift in my mood immediately.

"Uh-oh!" Novia whispered, elbowing me sharply. "Look at you. Jealous already."

"I am not." I said, shoving another fry into my mouth to keep from speaking.

Amanda smirked. "Sure you are not."

I glared at them but could not tear my eyes away from him. He was laughing, so casual, and yet I found myself wanting him to notice me instead. Not that I would ever admit that out loud.

Ashley Johnson appeared behind him a moment later, whispering something into his ear with a triumphant look. My stomach twisted. I was not even sure what I was feeling-anger, jealousy, or something hotter-but I clenched my fists under the table until my knuckles turned white.

Novia leaned in. "See? We told you. He notices you, and now he is officially intrigued by the competition."

I groaned into my napkin. "I do not care."

Amanda snorted. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that, Sam."

By the end of the day, I was exhausted. It wasn't from homework or upcoming exams, but from surviving Calvin and my own body's betrayals. Walking out of the school, I exhaled a long breath and tried to collect my scattered thoughts.

Two weeks until my birthday. Two weeks until my carefully crafted plan could finally be put into motion. Even now, thinking about the upcoming party, the teasing, the hallway collisions, and his constant smirk, I knew something was going to go very wrong or very right.

And somehow, I was not entirely sure which one I wanted more.