Chapter 6: The Rival

My mind was spinning, so I threw on headphones and started a game of Call of Duty. I lost three rounds before I realized I hadn’t blinked in minutes.

A few minutes later, someone yanked off my headphones and shouted angrily.

I winced, rubbing my ear. Sean Nash stood over me, face pinched, rainwater dripping onto our carpet.

"Wendy’s downstairs in the rain waiting for you, and you’re up here playing games?"

His hands were fists, his voice practically shaking. For a second, I thought he might actually swing at me.

I straightened up. "This is between me and her. Aren’t you overstepping?"

I kept my voice calm, refusing to take the bait. I’d seen enough guys like him—white knight, always butting in.

He just stared at me, jaw clenched so tight I thought he might crack a molar. Rainwater dripped from his hair onto my rug, but he didn’t care.

"Haven’t you had enough? Are you proud of playing with people’s feelings?"

"She’s so out of control because of you. Is your ego still not satisfied?"

His voice was raw, almost pleading. I wondered if he ever talked to Wendy this way, or if I was just the easy target.

The comments were all for him.

[I’m so touched. The real guy’s love is so open. To keep her from being sad, he even tells the backup to go see her.]

[The real guy is so pitiful. The backup’s such a jerk—look at the pain he’s causing our leads.]

I laughed, sharp and angry.

I knew my role: the antagonist, the foil. But I was tired of it.

"Wendy and I broke up. If you feel sorry for her being in the rain, take her yourself, instead of coming here to question me."

I jabbed a finger at his chest. He flinched but didn’t back down.

I never liked Sean Nash from day one. He always had that chip-on-his-shoulder vibe—resentful, ready for a fight.

When I was chasing Wendy, he’d watch from the shadows, glaring like I was dirt.

Every time I made her laugh or walked her to class, he was lurking, jaw tight.

If I brought Wendy food, he’d throw it away the second I left the room.

He said Wendy didn’t like sweets, straight-faced, like he was her protector.

I knew he liked her, but I just saw it as a rivalry.

It was almost fun at first—a contest for her attention. But it got ugly fast.

Once, I saw him pick up things Wendy didn’t want and secretly smell her jacket. It creeped me out. My roommate shrugged it off as a crush.

I figured Wendy could handle herself. Even after we got together, he kept showing up, like he didn’t know when to quit.