The Childhood Rivals
The campus was already loud, chaotic and messy, exactly how Esther liked it. Students yelled across hallways, someone spilled iced coffee on someone else, and the morning sun was far too bright for her mood.
And there he was.
Joshua stood leaning against the library steps as if he had been photoshopped into the scene just to ruin her day. His hands were in his pockets, his sleeves were half-rolled in that lazy way he always preferred. He looked up the moment she passed.
Of course he did.
Esther muttered under her breath, “Great. The universe hates me.”
Joshua’s mouth curved into that irritatingly perfect, smug smile.
“Morning,” he said while pushing off the railing. “I was hoping for the glare. Don’t disappoint me.”
She shot him a look that could peel paint. “You make everything disappointing.”
“I have heard my presence increases heart rate,” he replied. “It must be stressful for you.”
“Stressful? Please.” She flipped her hair. “If anything, you make me want to vanish.”
Joshua chuckled quietly, annoyingly soft and pretty.
They walked side by side only because the path narrowed. It was definitely not because he slowed down to match her pace.
Her annoyance spiked when someone behind them waved excitedly at Joshua.
“Damn,” she muttered. “Why does everyone like you?”
Joshua shrugged. “Charm. Excellence. Genetics.”
“Ego,” she corrected.
“It takes one to know one.”
She stopped walking. He stopped too, like it was instinct.
“Joshua,” she said flatly, “go away.”
“No.” He said it as if the answer was obvious, as if he had been waiting just to refuse.
She scowled and stormed off, but his grin followed her for the rest of the morning.
Later in her dorm, Esther slammed her bag onto the bed hard enough to startle her two friends.
“Wow,” Mira said without looking up from her textbook. “Mr. Perfect breathing your air again?”
“Everywhere,” Esther groaned, falling face-first onto the mattress. “He is like glitter. You hate it, but it sticks.”
“That is not hate,” Mira teased. “That is something else.”
“Shut up,” Esther said into her pillow.
Dia poked her head out of the bathroom. “Anyway, I am going on a blind date tomorrow.”
“Enjoy,” Esther said, waving a hand. “I refuse to engage with any male species today.”
“Oh, because of Joshua—”
“Do not say his name like that,” Esther snapped. “It sounds like a spell for summoning irritation.”
Mira and Dia exchanged looks.
“Party tonight?” Mira asked.
Esther lifted her head. “Finally, something good. Where is it?”
Dia grinned. “D-Block terrace. And do not say no.”
Esther stood. “I never say no to chaos.”
At the party, lights flashed, the bass rattled the floor and random couples made out in corners. It was the perfect distraction.
Esther arrived late, her hair messy and her confidence high. She grabbed a drink, then another, then got dragged into two conversations she did not care about.
Halfway through her third sip, her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: You are ruining all my tournaments by being too perfect. Come glare at me properly.
Esther rolled her eyes.
Of course it was him.
Esther: I am glaring. Now go away.
Joshua: Cute.
She almost choked on her drink. Cute? What was he drinking this semester?
Esther: Are you drunk?
Joshua: On academic excellence.
She snorted so loudly that someone turned to look at her.
This was their problem. Years of rivalry had shifted into something else. Teasing. Sniping. Banter with an undertone neither acknowledged.
She left the party early because boredom hit her like a brick. Or maybe the texts distracted her. Either way, she needed air.
Outside, she typed: Going back.
Joshua: Need me to come get you?
Esther smirked.
Esther: No. I can walk. Leave me alone.
Ten minutes later, a cab rolled up.
Leaning against it, arms crossed, sleeves rolled, looking half-annoyed and half-smug, was Joshua.
“You are unbelievable,” she said.
“You text like a toddler,” he replied. “I could not trust you to walk straight in those shoes.”
“I can handle myself.”
Joshua opened the cab door for her. “Sure. But let me pretend you cannot.”
She glared. “Manipulative.”
“Practical.”
“And annoying.”
He leaned closer, his voice low. “That is your favorite part about me.”
She refused to react. Absolutely refused.
In the cab, she muttered, “Why do you always show up?”
Joshua looked out the window, then at her. His voice softened. “Because I know you will never ask.”
Her stomach dropped.
For a moment, beneath all the sarcasm, rivalry and constant one-upping, something warm surfaced.
He looked away and switched back to his casual tone. “And because you would probably drunk-text the dean.”
“There it is,” she muttered. “Your real personality.”
Joshua smirked. “You bring it out of me.”
For once, Esther had no comeback.
She looked out the window, pretending the city lights were more interesting than the boy beside her, but her pulse betrayed her long before her expression did.
