My Know-It-All Nemesis: Sweet Mountain High

by Dallen, Maggie

  My Know-It-All Nemesis

  Sweet Mountain High

  Maggie Dallen

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  More from Sweet Heart Books

  1

  Kate

  Class had only just started, but everyone’s heads were down as we worked to solve the equation Mr. Klaton had given us in our AP Calculus class. There was only one empty seat in the class, and it mocked me.

  Where is he?

  Miller Hardwell was at school today. I knew this for a fact. We had almost all the same classes, including this one, and he’d been in every one of them up until now. So why wasn’t he here?

  What is he up to?

  I shifted in my seat, trying to concentrate on the numbers and letters in front of me and failing. He was talking to Ms. Dunderfin about the extra-credit biology assignment, I just knew it. Buttering her up, most likely. Ugh, the guy was a stinking snake when it came to extra credit.

  It was fine. Totally fine. I tapped my pencil against the desk. I’d go see her after lunch and tell her to sign me up as well.

  I rubbed my forehead and brushed some stray blonde hairs out of my face. When would I have time to do an extra-credit project between work, committee meetings, and the upcoming debate team competition? I had no idea. I tapped my pencil a little harder.

  I’d find the time. I always did.

  The baby-fine strands of hair that never cooperated fell back into my face, and I blew them away with an exasperated puff of air. Focus. I narrowed my eyes at the piece of paper in front of me and forced myself to stare at the numbers rather than the empty seat three rows over.

  The room was filled with silent concentration when Pauline Derby, the receptionist from the front office, poked her head in, her gaze seeking me out in the front row. “Kate, Mr. Gentry would like to see you in his office.”

  “Ruh-roh,” my friend Bella muttered beside me in a silly Scooby-Doo voice.

  I grinned as I sat back up, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I’d started gathering up my things before Pauline had even finished speaking.

  Call me crazy, but I actually liked being summoned to the vice principal’s office.

  “Someone’s in trouble,” one of the guys in the back said in a sing-song tone.

  I laughed and rolled my eyes as some more guys in my class made the comments they always made when someone was called to the front office.

  They were only teasing. We all knew I wasn’t really in trouble.

  I never got in trouble.

  Well, there was that one time last spring, but that wasn’t my fault.

  “What’s up today?” I asked Pauline as she led the way back to the office. The pretty platinum-blonde receptionist shot me a little smirk that said, nice try.

  Students were likely always trying to get some sort of heads-up about why they were being led to the main office. But like I’d said—I wasn’t worried. I was on more committees than I could count and led more charity organizations and after-school clubs than the rest of my classmates combined.

  I was in Mr. Gentry’s office a lot, since most of my endeavors fell under his domain. This meeting probably had something to do with the charity food drive I was planning for the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving.

  By the time we got to his office and Pauline gestured for me to go on in, I had the latest food bank information on the tip of my tongue and a big smile on my face.

  It was a genuine smile, because I truly did enjoy my visits with Mr. Gentry. I liked his wife, the principal, too, but she wasn’t as involved in the day-to-day activities like Mr. Gentry was. He was one of the few people in this school who seemed to appreciate all that I did and who had a genuine interest in seeing me succeed.

  The Ivy Leagues. That was my dream. And in a few months, I hoped to be receiving my acceptance letters. But until then...everything counted. Every grade, every charity drive, every extracurricular activity. This was the final push. What I’d been working toward since kindergarten. If there was ever a time to keep my eye on the prize, this was it.

  I opened the office door and poked my head in, my smile firmly in place. “You ready for me, Mr. Gentry?”

  He wasn’t behind his desk.

  A snicker to my right had me whipping me head in that direction so fast my ponytail smacked me in the face.

  Miller Hardwell. He mimicked my smile—or at least that’s what I assumed he was doing when he gave me that toothy, grimace of a grin. It made him look like the Joker as he mocked me with a smile that was both fake and evil.

  Just like Miller.

  My own smile dropped in a heartbeat. “What are you doing here?”

  He folded his hands over his stomach as he lounged on the leather seat in front of Mr. Gentry’s desk. The Joker smile faded to a smirk that was even more gruesome, in my opinion. “Same as you, I’d imagine.”

  Ugh. Even his voice was filled with that lazy, cocky arrogance I detested.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “What is this meeting about?”

  He shrugged as if he didn’t know and didn’t care.

  Lies. All of it. I’d learned sophomore year that the new rich kid from California was not to be trusted. Everyone else might buy his laid-back attitude and flirty charm, but not me.

  I knew better.

  The guy came to this school with one mission, and one mission alone—to ruin my life.

  Melodramatic? Perhaps. But that was how it felt most of the time. I’d been the undefeated leader of our class since kindergarten. Every one of my peers had been happy to let me start up the new clubs and earn the highest grades. This wasn’t to say there weren’t some other go-getters or smartypants in our class. There were. But no one was as hungry for Ivy League success as I was. No one was striving to be an undisputed leader like I was.

  Until Miller Hardwell arrived.

  Suddenly he was everywhere.

  EV-ER-Y-WHERE. In the same clubs, vying for the same positions, trying to steal my perfect GPA. And what was even worse? Sometimes, he actually won.

  Now he was here, in this office. Before me. At least that explained why he wasn’t in AP Calculus, but I still hated that he had a leg up on me by getting here first.

  I always suspected Pauline liked him more than me. Even though she was in her late twenties and way too old for him, he probably flirted with her just like he did every other female in this school.

  Well, every female aside from me.

  Which meant that every female, except for me, had fallen for his charms—of which I’d heard he had many. The biggest one? His looks. Tall and built, he had dark hair, green eyes, and a jaw that could cut glass.

  But his biggest flaw, in my humble opinion?

  Also his looks. More precisely, the fact that he was well aware of how good he looked, which was such a turn off. Aside from that, there was his overwhelming condescension, and the attitude that he could be, do, or have anything—or anyone—he wanted with a snap of his fingers. I supposed it came with the territory when one was stupidly rich, physically attractive, and more than a little ambitious to boot. He arched a brow at me as I hovered in the doorway.

  “Are you coming in?”

  I pursed my lips and studied him as I racked my brain for reasons we’d both be called
in here. For the first time since Pauline summoned me, I felt an anxious pit starting to form in my belly.

  If we were both here, it couldn’t be good.

  Suddenly I was having flashbacks to last spring—the one and only time I’d ever been called to the office to be reprimanded. All Miller’s fault, of course.

  Miller-freakin’-Hardwell, the bane of my existence.

  “Seriously, are you just going to stand there and stare at me until Gentry arrives?” Miller threw his arms out wide. “I know I’ve got it going on, baby, but you don’t have to drool.”

  I sneered at him in disgust. “You’re so full of yourself.”

  “Unlike you,” he shot back. “Miss Humility over here.”

  My nostrils flared at his sarcastic tone. I’d admit it. I wasn’t exactly lacking in the confidence department, but I wasn’t conceited like this guy.

  Miller walked the halls with a perma-smirk and a swagger, and everyone ate it up. He had the whole school buying into his act. Meanwhile, if I acted the way he did, I’d be labeled a stuck-up brat.

  Double standards at their finest, ladies and gentlemen.

  “Why were we called in here together?” I asked.

  He gave a snort of amusement. “How should I know?”

  “If you did something to get me in trouble—”

  “Oh, here we go,” he interrupted in a loud, exasperated drawl.

  “I mean it, Miller.”

  “I know you do, Kate,” he shot back. “That’s what makes you so ridiculous.”

  I drew in a deep breath, anger making my hands clench into fists at my sides as I prepared to let him have it.

  “Kate, Miller,” Mr. Gentry’s voice behind me cut me off before I could even begin. He shifted me to the side so he could walk past me as he eyed us both. “So glad you could both make it.” Mr. Gentry flashed me a warm smile. “Have a seat, Kate. Join the party.”

  I let my anger drain out of me as I returned his smile. “How’s your day going, Mr. Gentry?”

  “How’s your day going, Mr. Gentry?” Miller repeated my words quietly, using a high-pitched, breathy voice that made me sound like Marilyn Monroe.

  I glared over at him as a seemingly oblivious Mr. Gentry shuffled some papers on top of the filing cabinet in the corner, chatting away about something one of his daughters did over breakfast that morning.

  “I’m guessing you’re both wondering why I’ve called you in here,” he said as he turned. The moment he did, Miller and I both faced forward, looks of polite curiosity replacing our mutual sneers.

  Mr. Gentry sank into the seat on the opposite side of the desk and leaned across on his elbows. “I’m sorry to say that Sarah Parks will be moving at the end of this month.”

  My heart leapt into action, and I held my breath, trying not to let my excitement show. Sarah Parks was the current student council president.

  She shouldn’t be. I should have been voted in last spring except that Miller had decided to run against me and...well...it hadn’t ended well.

  Mr. Gentry seemed to be waiting for some sort of response so I murmured, “Oh, no.”

  I felt Miller’s derisive stare on the side of my face.

  Okay, fine. I’d admit it. I wasn’t exactly sorry to see Sarah go. It wasn’t like I didn’t like her—I barely knew the girl. All I knew was that she was a military kid, and she’d only enrolled in Sweet Mountain High at the beginning of junior year. She seemed nice enough—but I would have beaten her handily in the elections if Miller’s antics hadn’t gotten us both disqualified.

  But now Sarah was leaving, which meant...what, exactly?

  I shot Miller a quick look out of the side of my eye and caught him doing the same.

  Mr. Gentry was watching us both closely so I forced my shoulders to relax as I sat back in my seat. Clasping his hands together on top of the desk, Mr. Gentry fixed us with a serious look. “I have two options when an elected representative leaves office,” he said. “I could give the position to Tim Pfeiffer, the vice president—”

  “Tim didn’t even run for president,” I interrupted. “He didn’t want it.”

  “He doesn’t even know what the position entails,” Miller said over me. “He told me himself he only ran for VP for his college applications.”

  Mr. Gentry arched his brows when we finally grew silent. “May I finish?”

  I bit my lip to hold back any more protests, and I heard Miller shifting with impatience beside me.

  “The other option is to hold a special election—” he started.

  “Yes! Oh, please, give me another chance—” I said.

  “That seems like the fairer option to me—” Miller said.

  Mr. Gentry held up a hand to silence us. We’d once again started talking over each other in our excitement.

  I looked over to Miller with a glare. He couldn’t possibly be planning to run again. Not after what happened last time.

  “After what happened last time, I have my concerns,” Mr. Gentry said slowly. “As you can imagine.”

  I shifted in my seat, tugging the hem of my pleated skirt as I shot Miller a sidelong look of resentment.

  “Now,” Mr. Gentry said. “I’d like to give you two a second chance, but I need to know that this won’t be a repeat of last spring with the negative campaigns and the dirty—”

  “That wasn’t my fault—” I interrupted.

  “You say negative, I say factual,” Miller said at the same time.

  “Enough!” Mr. Gentry rarely raised his voice, and the shock of it had Miller and me freezing mid-protest, my mouth hanging open in surprise. “This…” He wagged a finger between us. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

  I clamped my mouth shut and risked a peek at Miller, who looked uncharacteristically meek. It would have been funny if I wasn’t feeling the same sting of being chastened.

  “If you two can’t get along…” Mr. Gentry said slowly, his tone a warning.

  “We can,” I said quickly.

  “We will,” Miller added.

  Mr. Gentry sat back with a sigh of resignation. “Very well. We’ll try this one more time.” He held his finger up again. “But this time there will be no wiggle room and no excuses. If I get a whiff of tension between you two, or if either of you tries anything unfair…”

  “We won’t,” I said.

  “You have my word,” Miller said.

  I held my breath as Mr. Gentry studied us for another long moment. “Very well,” he said with a small smile. “You two have one more shot to compete like the honest, kind, morally sound young individuals I know you to be.”

  I shot Miller another look. I was kind and honest, but Miller? Ha! That was a stretch.

  I kept quiet though, and Miller did as well, though I just knew he was thinking the same thing about me.

  Jerk.

  Mr. Gentry sighed wearily, like he could hear our thoughts even though we’d kept our mouths shut. “Get back to class,” he said. We scrambled up out of our seats and headed toward the door. “One more thing,” he said when we both reached for the doorknob at the same time.

  We both looked back to find him watching us with wry amusement. “Don’t make me regret my decision.”

  2

  Miller

  Why do you want to be Student Council President?

  I frowned down at the student council application on my lap as the guys in the van around me rehashed the game for the tenth time.

  “Yo, Miller,” my buddy Cal smacked me upside the head from where he sat in the back with his friend Luke. “You doing homework, man?”

  “It’s game day, dude,” our kicker, Logan, said.

  As if I didn’t know. As if I wasn’t just out there on the field alongside them playing a winning game against our rivals.

  One of the guys on the bench seat in front of me leaned over and snatched the paper out of my hand. I held back a sigh of irritation. This was due back to Mr. Gentry on Monday, and I hadn’t even started.r />
  No doubt Kate had finished hers up by the end of the day Thursday. Maybe even minutes after Pauline had given us our applications on the way out the door.

  Yup. Kate’s application was definitely finished, in perfect penmanship, and lying neat and tidy on top of Mr. Gentry’s desk right now, I’d bet my life on it. And me?

  I rubbed at my eyes as the guys around me continued talking way too loudly for the small confines of this passenger van.

  I hadn’t even started the stupid thing. I didn’t have the first clue what to write. And now I’d have to fight to get it back and try to iron out the wrinkles after my teammates manhandled it.

  “Give it back, man,” I said, reaching forward. But Logan was reading it over.

  “You running for student council president?” Logan asked.

  “Again?” one of the guys added.

  This made everyone laugh, including me. I’d be the first to admit, my rivalry with Kate had gotten a little out of hand last semester. I would not admit that it was all my fault, however much Kate wanted to hear me say it.

  The girl was just as competitive as I was, if not more so. And when push came to shove? Well, let’s just say that girl could push her way out of a maximum-security prison if she put her mind to it.

  She was fierce. But it was useless trying to convince anyone else of that. All these fools saw was the cheery smile, the long blonde ponytail, and the preppy clothes.

  “Dude,” Cal was chuckling in the backseat behind me. “Didn’t you get in trouble for calling her…” He looked to Luke. “What was it?”

  “Business School Barbie,” one of the guys up front answers.

  “No, MBA Barbie,” someone else said.

  They were both wrong. It was Brainiac Barbie, and I wasn’t terribly proud of myself for that particular jibe. Contrary to what Kate liked to tell people, I wasn’t some misogynistic jerk who thought a woman couldn’t be smart and sexy and anything else she wanted to be.