Sienna

Of all the guys in this city, it had to be him.

He stood there in his black hoodie, looking incredibly bored. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his dark eyes lazily scanning the table before they finally dropped down and locked onto mine.

He froze. Just for a split second.

Then, that familiar, arrogant smirk tipped the corner of his mouth.

My nails dug so hard into my palms they almost drew blood. The urge to grab my water glass and hurl it at his head was blinding.

My mind violently rewound, tearing through the memories of the past two weeks.

Jaxon Carter was the insufferable transfer student who had turned my senior year into a living, breathing HELL.

---

Our turf war had kicked off over a parking space.

“He did not,” Kendra choked out, nearly spitting her coffee as we navigated the morning rush.

“He did,” I muttered, steering toward the only open spot next to the oak tree. My spot. My blinker was ticking. I was literally turning the wheel. And then this massive truck roared around the corner, swerved in front of my hood with a screech, and stole it.

I slammed on my brakes, leaning on the horn as the driver’s door swung open. Out stepped Jaxon. He wore a varsity jacket, his hair falling into his eyes. He didn't look remorseful. He just locked his truck, caught my death glare through the windshield, and threw me a mocking two-finger salute before strolling away.

That was day one. By day five, our petty rivalry had spiraled out of control.

If I hit the library, he’d sit directly behind me, clicking his heavy pen against the desk until my ears bled. If I hit the vending machine, he’d snag the last bag of chips right before I could, turn around, and eat them one by one without breaking eye contact.

But the real fallout hit in AP History.

“The pairs were generated based on your current grades,” Mr. Davis announced, pointing a marker at the whiteboard. “Sienna, you have the highest average, and Jaxon has the second highest. You'll make a formidable team.”

“Second highest?” Jaxon’s deep voice rumbled right behind my shoulder, sending an unwanted shiver down my spine. “Wow, Blake. Didn't know you were tracking my grades. I'm flattered.”

I spun around, crossing my arms. “I'm not tracking you, Carter. I'm trying to save my GPA from being tanked by a jock who probably reads at an eighth-grade level.”

Jaxon smirked, stepping deliberately into my space. The scent of rain hit me, making my chest tighten. “I read just fine. Actually, I'm great with my tongue. Want a demonstration?”

We shoved our desks together. Our knees instantly brushed under the cramped frame. I jerked my legs back like I’d been burned. “Keep your feet to yourself. Here’s the deal: I do the research, I write the script, and you sit there, look pretty, and read whatever I hand you without butchering the pronunciation.”

Jaxon leaned back, folding his arms. The smirk vanished, his eyes narrowing. “You really think I'm an idiot, don't you?”

“I think you're arrogant,” I shot back. “And I think you're used to everyone doing the heavy lifting because you can throw a football.”

“I work for my grades, Sienna,” he said, his voice dropping into a rough register that made my skin prickle. Hearing my actual name roll off his tongue felt way too intimate. “I pull my weight. If we're doing this, it’s fifty-fifty. I'm not some charity case for you to carry.”

“Fine,” I challenged, leaning in until our faces were inches apart. “Prove it. What was the main conservative criticism of the Agricultural Adjustment Act?”

Jaxon didn't blink. He didn't hesitate. “An unconstitutional overreach of federal power that destroyed perfectly good crops to artificially raise prices while people starved in breadlines. Next question.”

I stared at him, my mouth open, totally caught off guard. He actually knew his stuff.

Jaxon flashed a slow, dangerous grin, leaning in even closer. “Cat got your tongue, Blake? Or just realizing I’m the total package?”

“You're an idiot,” I muttered, staring at my paper while my heart thumped a little too hard against my ribs.

---

"Sienna," my dad's voice snapped me out of the memory, pulling me right back to the suffocating reality of the dinner table.

The candle-lit atmosphere of Le Petit Paris rushed back in. The crisp tablecloth, the rattling glasses, the heavy scent of rich food. Jaxon was still standing there, towering over us.

"This is my son, Jaxon," Lena smiled, completely oblivious to the silent bomb detonating between us.

"Hey, partner," Jaxon murmured. His deep voice dripped with a lazy irony that only I could hear.

"You..." I choked out, pointing a shaking finger at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Sienna, watch your manners!" my dad scolded, his face flushing. "I had no idea you two already knew each other! This is wonderful."

"Wonderful?" I echoed, the word tasting like ash. I stood up so fast my chair scraped the floor, drawing stares from nearby tables. "Dad, no. This is a massive mistake."

"Sienna, sit down," Dad hissed through a forced smile, gripping my wrist to pull me back. "Don't do this now."

Jaxon took a slow step forward. He looked at my dad, his expression instantly shifting into a mask of polite innocence that made me want to scream. "It's fine, Victor. Sienna and I actually got paired up for a history project today. We're going to be spending a lot of time together."

He turned his gaze back to me. The polite mask slipped, revealing a wicked glint. He stepped into my space, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the restaurant. He leaned down, letting his rough whisper slide straight into my ear.

"Looks like you're stuck with me, Blake," he murmured. His eyes dropped to my mouth for a split second before snapping up to meet my glare.

Then, he stepped back. The dangerous heat vanished. He turned toward our parents, flashing a warm, polite smile.

"Since we'll be living under the same roof soon," he said, sounding like the perfect son. "I'm honestly looking forward to it."

My lungs stopped working.

He wasn't just taking over my school anymore.

The devil was about to invade every inch of my life.