Bite Marks & Betrayals: Falling for the Rival

My whole life, Sebastian Vance has beaten me by exactly enough to make it hurt.

This time it was twenty points. I got a 1550. He got a 1570. My sworn enemy since we were five, and still, somehow, one step ahead.

So before commitment day, I went fishing.

I'm headed to MIT, I told him. Where are you landing?

He looked me over, slow and mean, wearing the smile of someone who already knew something I didn't.

"Relax. I'm going to Harvard."

He lied. So did I.

I picked Harvard, his school, and swore up and down I was MIT-bound. He picked MIT, my school, and swore he was headed to Harvard. Two people, one stupid secret each, both of us scheming to land wherever the other one was.

We missed by a mile.

First day. Joint orientation, both schools crammed onto one field, nine thousand strangers in matching gear.

I found him in half a second. Across the divide, dead center of the MIT crowd, staring me down like he was planning a murder.

And the sign in my hands, hoisted over my head for the whole field to read.

Harvard.

Chapter 1

By noon the scores were live, and Sebastian Vance had already dropped his number on top of mine and made damn sure I knew it.

[1570.]

[So sorry, Hazel. Looks like I took first this time.]

Twenty points clear of me. I could hear the exact lazy, punchable tone behind every word. Two minutes ago I'd been thrilled with my own number. Now I was staring at the ceiling with my jaw locked.

He's been letting me win for years. Shaving points off his own tests so I'd stop grinding my teeth to powder. I know his whole curve. And the one time it actually counted, he let himself off the leash.

The whole class had been betting on this exact showdown all morning, me versus him, half of them with money down.

Maxwell: [How'd Sebastian and Hazel do?? Numbers. Now.]

[Don't, Max. It's a happy day. Don't ruin it. Those two posting their scores cuts my joy clean in half.]

[Right?? Don't even ask about Sebastian's math. My mom will spiral. Money's on Sebastian for first, lock it in.]

[lmao no wonder Vince tanked the English section, on today of all days HAHAHA]

[hey, ease up, Spud. Sebastian's good, sure. But the last round of finals? Hazel took first. Don't forget who you're talking to.]

Loser calls the winner "sir" for a month was the opening offer. It got worse from there. Then Brody, his right hand, tagged the whole chat.

Brody: [My money's on Hazel. If I lose, Sebastian buys everyone dinner.]

[Brody you ICON]

[screenshotted. filing under fake friendship.]

[playing both sides, legend]

Brody, unbothered: [Relax. Sebastian's loaded.]

I'd posted my own number into all that a few minutes earlier, almost proud of it.

[1550.]

And then his had landed on top, the taunt right behind it. So.

Fine.

[So impressive. So about that dinner the genius owes the entire class?]

His reply came back instant, zero fuss.

[Friday, 4:30. The Brass Lantern. We go till morning.]

The chat went feral.

[SEBASTIAN. KING. I'm there.]

[Hayden, reporting for duty.]

[me too me too]

I got in line with the rest of them, thumbs moving before my brain could veto it.

[Don't forget to add me.]

[Hazel. As if I could ever forget you.]

Heat hit my face fast, like someone flipped a switch under my skin.

I read it again. Then I screenshotted it. Then I deleted the screenshot. Then I opened it one more time, just to confirm it still said what I thought it said.

It did.

I spent the whole week pretending I wasn't counting down to Friday. I was absolutely counting down to Friday.

By the time I got to the room he'd booked, most of the class was already there.

Sebastian had claimed the single armchair in the back corner, long legs crossed at the ankle, sprawled like the lease was in his name. People clustered around him, talking at him. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

I rolled my eyes and walked straight over anyway.

That got his attention. He uncrossed his legs, slow, and patted the empty seat beside him, a smile tugging at his mouth.

"Come sit by me."

"Who said I wanted to sit with you, Sebastian Vance?"

"Seb," he said, unbothered, like he was correcting a typo.

I'd already turned on my heel to drop down next to Nora.

"HAZEL." Nora threw both arms around me and crushed me into her chest. "I missed you so much I could die."

I could barely breathe. My face went warm anyway, and I nodded hard against her shoulder.

"Same."

That was a mistake.

Her eyes welled up on the spot. She pursed her lips, leaned in, and aimed right for my cheek.

And somewhere to my left, the temperature dropped.

Chapter 2

For a second I didn't move. I let her come.

Then a hand shot out and caught Nora by the arm.

"Brody, what the hell!" Nora whipped around, outraged.

I shot him a grateful look. He answered with the smallest tip of his chin. That way.

I followed it, and ran straight into the eyes of someone slouched low in his chair, brows hooded, putting out enough cold to fog the windows.

Sebastian clicked his tongue. When he spoke it was soft, which was somehow worse.

"Hazel. Come here."

I hadn't done one thing wrong. So why did I feel caught.

I went anyway. Sat down beside him, spine rigid, eyes nailed to the wall, doing my best to ignore the heat pouring off his side.

A finger dug into my waist.

I yelped and slapped it away before I could think, the smack sharp over the noise.

The back of his hand went pink.

"What is your problem!" I scrubbed at the spot his fingertip had found and glared.

He laughed under his breath, looking obscenely pleased with himself, and dragged a hand back through his hair.

"What, regretting it now? All those points you threw me out of pity?"

He let the last word curl, slow, and my brain did something embarrassing with it.

In his dreams.

My face was steaming and I couldn't shut it down.

His smile widened. He wasn't finished.

"Because I was going to ask you to go easy on me next time too. For old times' sa"

"Stop. Talking."

I gave up and slid down into the couch, shooting him the filthiest look I owned.

I've known him since we were five. People think he's just naturally untouchable, top of every list, effortless. They didn't sit beside him for thirteen years. I did. I know he eased off on purpose, exam after exam, year after year, just enough to keep me close to first. Take that away and I'm a permanent runner-up.

The worst part is his brain genuinely works like that. A problem that has the rest of us chewing our pens for twenty minutes? He glances at it once and hands back three solutions, bored.

The unfairness of it makes my teeth ache. Why him. Why me. Why both of us.

He must have caught it on my face, because his throat bobbed, and then he was biting down on a laugh, shoulders shaking.

Humiliating. Completely humiliating.

Half my judgment walked out the door.

Maybe it was the two sips of something sweet someone had pushed into my hand. Maybe it was just the dizzy, deafening high of the whole night. Either way, I lunged and clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Don't you dare laugh."

And then, with his stupid innocent face right there and his throat still jumping under a swallowed laugh, I bit him. Right on the Adam's apple. Hard.

He went still. The laugh died under my teeth. His whole body locked, and his hand fisted hard at my waist.

"I told you to stop," I mumbled into his skin, the words going soft and useless. "Sebastian. I hate you."

The tears came up out of nowhere, fat and fast, spilling over.

How is one person allowed to be this infuriating. I'd worked so hard. I was still behind.

And somewhere along the way (I don't know when, I never clocked the exact day), the most infuriating boy I'd ever met had walked right into my chest and made himself at home, and I never even charged him rent.

Maybe everyone falls for the person who's better than them. Especially then. Especially at that age, when everything runs too hot and your heart hasn't learned to guard itself yet.

All I had to do was stop fighting it. Let myself look right at him. Let myself be looked at.

The rest of that night is mostly gone.

People cried and screamed into the mic and threw their arms around each other, and none of it was annoying. It made me want to climb onto a chair and scream too.

I don't even remember how I got home.

Apparently I refused to peel myself off Sebastian. Apparently I pitched a full tantrum until he hauled me out into the night on his back.

He never told me that part. I was never going to be brave enough to ask.

But the step counter doesn't lie. The next morning, in a group full of people who'd logged a couple thousand, one number sat at the very top, impossible to miss. Twenty-three thousand. His.

And Sebastian, who had never posted a single thing in his life, posted.

One photo. A long shadow under a yellow streetlight, a shape that was unmistakably him with someone slumped on his back.

The caption:

[Carried the whole world somewhere safe and hid.]

I stared at it until the screen went black.

After that I didn't text him first. Couldn't. When his messages came I sent back three words, four max, and decided the heat in my face meant nothing. I decided that a lot.

Chapter 3

The day before the commitment deadline, Nora dragged me to her place to "figure out our applications together."

I should have known.

The second I followed her through the door, I froze solid.

Sebastian was sprawled across her couch in workout clothes like he owned the building.

I grabbed Nora's sleeve, ready to cry.

"Hey. Small thing. Why didn't you mention he'd be here?"

Nora rubbed her nose, guilty. "You know my mom. She's had kids cycling through here all week. Probably wants to grill everyone about where they're committing."

Fair. Her mom took the counselor thing very seriously.

I sighed and walked toward Sebastian's almost-smile like a woman heading up the plank, then dropped onto the far end of the couch, as far from him as the cushions allowed.

He just huffed a laugh and let it go.

A minute later Nora's mom came out with a stack of folders, Brody trailing behind her, way too relaxed.

She brightened when she saw me. "Hazel, with your scores you can take your pick. Any school in mind?"

"Yeah. I've got one."

She nodded, pleased. "Good. I have to run to campus. You all talk it out. Especially you." Her tone flipped to pure exasperation. "Nora. Are you listening?"

I glanced over. Nora, who'd been grinning at a cartoon two seconds ago, fumbled the remote straight out of her hands.

"Yes, Mom. Go. Please go," Nora said, dead inside.

The door clicked shut.

I snuck a few looks at Sebastian, who was still doing his cold-marble thing on the couch. Then I couldn't help it.

"So." Casual. So casual. "I'm committing to MIT. Where are you headed?"

He turned his head, slow, and looked me over with that lazy, awful smile.

"Thought you hated me. Relax. I'm going to Harvard."

Commitment day.

I sat at my laptop, staring at the school I'd typed into the form, and didn't move.

Before I could make myself hit submit, an unknown number lit up my phone.

"Hazel?"

Brody. I frowned. "Yeah? What's up?"

He laughed, too high, stalling. "Haha, nothing. No. Actually, something."

"Spit it out."

A few seconds of silence.

"So. Which school did you commit to?"

I paused. Looked at the screen. Told the truth. "MIT."

On the other end, Brody exhaled like a man let off the hook. "Cool."

He hung up.

And then it hit me.

I picked up my phone and texted someone.

Me: [Which school did you commit to?]

He answered like he'd been holding the phone in his hand the whole time, waiting.

Sebastian: [I already told you. Harvard.]

He had told me. So why did something feel off.

Me: [For real?]

Sebastian: [Cross my heart.]

I relaxed. Sebastian Vance lies to your face without blinking, sure. But cross my heart? He's far too arrogant to say something that earnest unless he means it.

I thought about it one more time.

Then I changed one line on the form, took a breath, and hit submit.

My move. And I would rather die than let him know it was one.

The night before move-in, he called.

"Hazel."

His voice came through bright, practically swaggering.

I caught it like it was contagious. "What's got you so cheerful?"

He cleared his throat, going for casual and missing.

"MIT and Harvard start the same week, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

He started laughing then. Low, helpless, like he'd been holding it in for weeks.

Chapter 4

"Just wait. I've got a surprise for you tomorrow."

He hung up before I could get a word in.

I shook my head, smiling, and texted back.

Me: [Sure.]

Me: [I've got a surprise for you too.]

Move-in day, I trailed the Harvard upperclassmen running the welcome crew over to the dorms.

I'd barely found my room and started unpacking when his text came in.

Sebastian: [I'm on your campus. Which women's dorm are you in?]

My eyes went wide. I was a fake alumna of my own fake school. How was I supposed to know the dorms.

Hands not quite steady, I searched a random building name and sent it.

Sebastian: [Funny. I'm standing right outside it.]

I wanted to lie down on the floor. Of course he was. Of course he was standing outside the one building I'd picked at random out of nine thousand.

One more text and I'd be done for. So I bailed. Told him I'd gone out with my roommate, wasn't in the dorm anyway.

Sebastian: [I promised you a surprise.]

His voice came through the screen with that exact wounded little drag.

I scrubbed both hands through my hair, brain firing in every direction, scrambling for a patch. Then it came to me. A rumor a senior had dropped earlier that day.

Me: [Two days. We'll see each other at orientation in two days. I heard the two schools are running it together this year.]

Three minutes crawled by before he answered.

Sebastian: [Fine.]

I sagged with relief.

Then I looked at the orientation jacket folded on my bed, the crest stitched across the chest, and caught myself grinning. I could not wait for him to see me in it.

Day one of orientation, I climbed onto the shuttle with my new roommates before the sun was fully up.

The second I stepped off, I was scanning the crowd for him.

But everyone was in identical gear. I searched and searched and came up empty.

"Hazel. Up front."

The counselor's voice. I snapped back, called out "Coming," grabbed my sign, and started toward the front.

I didn't make it.

A burst of chatter went up around me.

"Oh my GOD, did you see the guy who just got off the bus?"

"YES. His face is illegal. I would've gone to MIT if I'd known!"

"Same. Worst decision of my life, I'm sobbing."

"It's not that deep, you guys. Our school has hot guys too, okay?"

I fought my way to the front. And the second I got there, before I could even breathe, I looked up.

Straight into the eyes of the guy they were all losing their minds over.

My brain flatlined.

Across the divide, dead center of the MIT freshman line, Sebastian was staring at me. Not lazy. Not amused. Jaw set, eyes black.

And the sign in my hands, raised high over my head for the whole field to read.

Harvard.

The memories came back to kill me