I Refuse To Like You

“So, what exactly did you work on, proletariat princess?” Mr. Donald asks, sounding deeply unconvinced.

I raise the can in my hand, smiling proudly. “I call this the Touch-and-Stay Glue.”

Mr. Donald narrows his eyes. “That sounds concerning.”

“It should,” I reply cheerfully. “This glue can stay on a surface for years without drying out, but the second another object touches it, it bonds immediately. And the best part? It gives off natural warmth, so nobody suspects it’s there.” I grin wider. “Perfect for ruining someone’s day.”

The class immediately turns toward Kieran.

Mr. Donald sighs. “And you made this yourself?”

I nod enthusiastically.

He looks even less pleased. “Demonstrate.”

“Oh, gladly.” I turn toward Kieran with delight. “He’ll help me.”

“You wish,” Kieran scoffs instantly.

“No wonder you invented it,” Mr. Donald mutters under his breath.

I ignore him completely and smile sweetly at Kieran. “Stand up, please.”

For one second, he just stares at me, puzzled. Then his eyes widen with realization.

Kieran plants both hands on the desk and tries to stand, but that's not happening. Not with my masterpiece firmly attached to his ass.

“Fuck, Kara!” he snaps, jerking again uselessly. “What did you do?”

I blink innocently. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Lydia laughs, nearly falling off her chair. "She glued you to the seat."

“Give it a few more minutes and his circulation's gonna cut off entirely,” Rihanna adds, high-fiving Lydia while the class laughs.

Even Shade looks like he’s fighting laughter. Poor thing doesn’t realize he’s stuck too. I smeared the glue on more than four seats.

Mr. Donald pinches the bridge of his nose. “Wonderful work, Kara. Very creative. Now release him.”

“What fun would that be?”

“You’ll get a C.”

I gasp dramatically. “A C? My mother’s going to frame my report card.”

His expression hardens. “An F, then.”

“Still iconic,” I sing as I return to my seat.

Kieran glares at me with a murderous look as he tries to free himself again. The chair screeches across the floor, but he doesn't move an inch. The glue has him firmly stuck to the seat. If he wants freedom, he'll have to strip down to his underwear. That's assuming the glue hasn't reached his skin, which I strongly suspect it has.

Worth it.

Mr. Donald eventually gives up trying to reason with me and continues the lesson while Kieran and his hooligans remain trapped. The longer they sit there, the stronger the attachment.

After Mr. Donald's class ends, Mrs. Gale walks in just as everyone starts packing up. The second her shoes click against the floor, a collective miserable sighs settles over the room. Nobody likes her manners class. Nobody.

I sling my bag over my shoulder and head toward the door with my friends.

Mrs. Gale glances toward the back of the room where Kieran and his friends are still beautifully stuck. Her face brightens when she sees them. “Kieran and company, you’re staying behind?”

“Yes,” I answer for them before anyone else can speak. “They decided to ‘stick around’.”

Laughter explodes behind me.

“Kara!” Kieran and his friends shout at once.

I wave lazily over my shoulder and continue walking. The day's gonna get better and better.

***

“Karana,” Mr. P says with an exhausted exhale, “please release them.”

Nobody calls him Principal. Not students, not staff, not even his own daughter. He’s just Mr. P. Just like how he likes calling me by my full name. I hate my full name.

And currently, he looks seconds away from early retirement.

I sit comfortably in the chair across from the teacher's desk, grinning from ear to ear while Kieran and his friends remain trapped in their seats. “No,” I singsong. “They have to beg first.”

“Over my dead body,” Kieran says sharply.

I smile pleasantly. “Then perish.”

Mr. P sighs deeply, already tired. “Kara, please don’t make me call your mother again.”

Technically, he should've expelled us at least twelve incidents ago, but unfortunately for him, family ties make that impossible. Not only are Kieran's parents—his older brother and sister-in-law—best friends with my parents, but I'm also best friends with his beloved daughter, Rihanna.

Which also means, yes, Kieran and Rihanna are cousins.

Unfortunate, isn't it?

“Call her,” I challenge.

Rihanna clears her throat beside me.

Right.

That’s still her father.

I straighten slightly. “I mean… he should still beg.”

“I’d rather die glued to this chair,” Kieran says flatly.

“Beautiful. Stay committed to the vision.”

Hudson's voice suddenly cuts through the argument. “Kara, I genuinely didn’t do anything to you.”

I avert my gaze to him.

Unlike the rest of Kieran’s group, Hudson is impossible to hate properly, which is honestly irritating. He has ash-blond hair that constantly falls into his face, and soft hazel eyes so large they make him look permanently innocent, and the kind of face people instinctively trust within seconds of meeting him. Even when he’s annoyed, he somehow still looks painfully polite.

It doesn’t help that he’s genuinely nice either.

He stays out of our wars, avoids unnecessary drama, and mostly follows Kieran around like a very tall emotional support puppy. Bianca has been hopelessly in love with him for ages because apparently kindness and big eyes are all that matters.

“Why did you glue me too?” he asks again, pouting slightly.

“Because you were nearby,” I reply.

“Because you’re cute,” Bianca corrects softly from behind me.

Hudson turns to her, his pout somehow growing even sadder. “Please release us,” he says gently. “For your favorite person.”

Bianca’s face turns red almost instantly.

Oh, brother.

“Pleaseeeee?” Hudson drags out shamelessly.

Rihanna clutches her chest dramatically. “That should honestly be illegal.”

I stare at Hudson in annoyance. “Stop weaponizing your face.”

He smiles innocently.

Which somehow makes it worse.

Bianca already looks seconds away from melting.

“Fine,” I groan at last, standing up before I’m forced to witness any more of whatever this is. I reach into my bag, pull out the second bottle, and throw it directly at Kieran’s head.

It smacks him cleanly.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“That’s the dissolver,” I explain.

Hudson brightens immediately. “Thanks, love.”

Behind me, Bianca giggles so hard it makes me cringe. I point at her accusingly. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“She’s in love,” Rihanna says solemnly.

“Shut up,” Bianca mutters.

I grin, satisfied with the outcome of the first punishment. “My work here is done.” Then I lean toward Mr. P and kiss his cheek. “Bye, Mr. P. Love you.”

He sighs while ruffling my hair before lightly pushing me toward the door. “Please leave my school before I lose my remaining sanity.”

“Bye, Dad,” Rihanna calls sweetly as we leave.

The second I step into the hallway again, Kieran’s voice follows behind me.

“I hate you!”

I don’t bother turning around. It'll ruin my dramatic exit.

“Suck it up, dick!”

I continue walking with the girls, almost breaking into a skip. I'm telling you, nothing tastes better than revenge or pulling your enemies down a peg. And the best part is, I'm not done with Kieran Lockwood today.