My Enemy Next Door: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Nicole London

  “Mariah …” He grabs my wrist, as I’m organizing my pencils. “Mariah, I know you can hear me talking to you.”

  “No, I can’t.” I jerk my hand away and face him. “Senior English is in room 212. This is Advanced Lit.”

  “I’m well aware.”

  “Are you?” I cross my arms. “Because I don’t remember seeing you in any of the study sessions this summer. I did see you all around the harbor with Ashley Jordan, though. At the movies, at the—

  “So, you were stalking me?” His lips curve up into a smirk. “I didn’t know you cared so much.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Clearly.” He lowers his voice. “But for the record, the teacher made an exception for me because of my basketball schedule. I did just as much work—probably more than you this summer.”

  Then he smiles and the girl sitting across from him practically swoons as she stares. “And if I were you, I would try to be a lot nicer to me this year—especially since it’s my last year. Not only that, but with Zach going on recruiting trips every other weekend, I’m sure you’ll need me to drive you places when he’s not in town.”

  “No, I’m sure I’ll catch the bus.”

  “It doesn’t run on the weekends.”

  “Then I’ll pay for a cab.” I glare at him and feel my phone buzzing against my pocket. “And I will tolerate you this year. Nothing more, nothing less, and I can guarantee that I will never ask you for anything.”

  I pull my phone out of my pocket, grateful to have a distraction from his too-gorgeous-to-be-true blue eyes. It’s a text message from my brother.

  Zach: Hey, Ryah. I asked Liam to take you home after-school all this week, since I’ve got some meetings with scouts. He said it was cool, so be nice to him, please. Thanks.

  My blood begins to boil as I feel Liam looking over my shoulder, as I see him smiling as he reads the text message, too.

  “Like I was saying—” Liam leans back in his seat. “I think you need to be a lot nicer to me this year. I think you owe that to me, correct?”

  I don’t get a chance to respond to that. Our teacher walks into the room and approaches the board.

  “Good morning, everyone!” He slams his coffee onto the desk. “Welcome to Advanced Literature, and thank you for being brave enough to return after I put you through all of those summer sessions. Since this is an advanced, college-level course, you’ll need a study partner, and you’ll need to work together at least three to four times a week.”

  “Now …” He ignores our chorus of groans and taps a pen against the lectern. “I’m not silly enough to let any of you choose your partners on your own, so everyone in row A, look to your right. Your partner for the year is sitting in row B. Everyone in row C, look to your right and meet your partner for the year in row D.”

  I look to my right, at Liam, and resist the urge to knock that smirk off his lips. I consider asking the teacher if I can please be paired with someone I’m not tempted to kill, but Liam leans close to me and whispers, “I’m looking forward to being friends again …”

  “We will never be friends again.”

  “Then that’s too bad …” He looks down at my shirt and back up at me. “Because if we were friends again, I’d tell you that I’m pretty sure you forgot to put on a bra this morning.” He looks down at my shirt once more. “Not that I mind, though. You can definitely show up to every study session with me, dressed just like this, if you like.”

  I look down and feel my cheeks burning bright red. This school year is going to be way harder than I thought it was going to be …