The party was already in full swing when I arrived—a perfect mix of too loud, too crowded, and somehow still tolerable because I knew most of the faces. It was one of those gatherings where you could barely take a step without running into someone you knew from class or sports or the local café down the street. But as was always the case at these gatherings, the people you couldn’t stand also showed up.
And of all the people I couldn’t stand, Evans Blake was at the very top of my list.
I spotted him the second I walked in. Tall, bespectacled, and every bit as infuriating as he was during our university debates. He stood by the bar, gesticulating wildly to a group of people who were all nodding along to whatever self-important crap he was spewing. God, I hated him.
It wasn’t just that we were on the debate team together and that we were constantly butting heads. Evans had a knack to argue about everything. And by "everything," I mean everything—from the theory of utilitarianism to which pizza toppings were objectively better. Every single point, no matter how trivial, became a hill he was willing to die on.
Most people couldn’t handle it and just gave up, but not me. I’d been in enough spats—both verbal and otherwise—to know how to hold my own. Hell, by the time we hit the podium during debates, it didn’t even matter which one of us was speaking that day. We’d already argued every topic into the ground, going round after round until it was a wonder we could still stand each other at all. Spoiler alert: we couldn’t.
It also didn’t help that Evans thought he was the smartest guy in any room. And the worst part? A lot of people actually believed it. I mean, sure, he had all those fancy accolades from high school top marks in every subject, a trust fund baby, all that crap. And me? I was from a humble background. My parents didn't care if I existed; I had to fight to survive and reach the university.
But of course, Evans didn’t see any of that. In his mind, someone like me didn’t belong on the debate team or even at university. I was an anomaly—one he clearly couldn’t stand. He never said it outright, but I could tell by the way he spoke to me, with that condescending tone, as if I was slow or something.
I fucking hated him for it.
I had avoided him as much as possible. I even got myself moved out of a class we were both in. But the thing about a small city, and especially about university life, is that no matter how hard you try to escape someone, they’re always around. Evans was friends with everyone, just like I was. And for some ungodly reason, they could all stand him.
“Ugh. Evans’s here,” I groaned to my roommate, Dexter, as I grabbed a beer from the fridge.
Dexter rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to get over this thing with him, man.”
I scowled. “It’s not a thing; it’s a justified reaction to the most annoying person on earth.”
“He’s not that bad,” Dexter said, giving me a look.
“Of course you’d say that. You’ve never had to sit through him explaining why Socrates would agree with his take on climate change. I mean, who the hell brings Socrates into that?”
Dexter laughed, slapping me on the back. “You really let him get under your skin, huh?”
I took a swig of my beer and glared across the room at Evans, who was now laughing with a group of people. His smile was annoyingly bright, the kind that could probably charm most people. Not me, though. I knew what lurked beneath that smile—the assumption that he was always right and you were always wrong.
“I avoid him as much as possible,” I muttered, mostly to myself.
But of course, tonight wasn’t going to be one of those nights where avoidance was an option. The party was too small for that. Before long, I found myself in the same group as him, thanks to Dexter dragging me over to chat with some friends. And there Evans was, in all his glory.
“Hey, Cameron,” he said, with that same infuriating tone he always used, like we were old pals when, in reality, we could barely stand to breathe the same air.
“Evans,” I replied, not bothering to hide the disdain in my voice. I leant against the wall, trying to seem casual, though the tension was already building in my chest.
He raised an eyebrow. “Been a while. Still playing football, or did you finally realise it’s a waste of time?”
There it was—the dig I’d been waiting for. I forced a smile, the kind that definitely didn’t reach my eyes. “Still playing. Unlike debate, it actually requires physical ability. And coordination.”
His lips twitched into a smirk. “Ah, yes. Coordination. I’m sure it’ll take you far.”
I narrowed my eyes, swirling the beer in my hand. “Still convinced that being able to quote The Art of War makes you interesting?”The people around us shifted awkwardly, sensing the brewing storm. Evans grinned, that smug smile that made my fist itch to wipe it off his face. “I’m just saying quoting strategy books is a little more useful than knowing how to throw a ball.”"Useful?" I barked out a laugh. "Yeah, nothing says 'life skills' like being able to ruin a party with strategic discourse."“You know,” Evans said, tilting his head, “I bet you couldn’t even keep up in a real competition. I’ve got stamina for days.”“Stamina, huh? You couldn’t handle a jog, let alone a real test of endurance.”One of our friends interrupted with a grin. “Why don’t you two settle this with a good old-fashioned drinking match?”The crowd perked up at this. What started as a petty exchange had turned into a public spectacle. I couldn’t back down now. Not in front of everyone. Especially not in front o
The morning sun was way too bright, and my brain was still swimming in a hazy fog thanks to the brilliant idea of participating in last night’s drinking game.I groaned, glancing at my phone. 10:15 AM. Great. I had a class in exactly five minutes, and I wasn’t even out of bed yet. Philosophy. Perfect. The only thing worse than trying to understand the meaning of life with a hangover was doing it in front of Professor Daniel, who loved to call on students at their most vulnerable moments.I scrambled out of bed, throwing on the first semi-clean outfit I could find. No time for coffee. Not even time for dignity.I burst into the lecture hall like a bat out of cave, hoping, praying, and begging the universe that Evans wouldn’t be there. Surely, the golden boy of this campus would have better things to do than make it to this class. Like, maybe he had to sleep in after last night’s game too, right?Nope. There he was. Sitting in the front row, all polished and immaculate, not a single hai
The neon lights outside the bar flickered like they always did, casting a hazy glow on the pavement as I made my way to the entrance. I had been looking forward to this all day—a night out with Jake in the same bar where we first met. The place had become kind of "our spot.".I scanned the bar and saw Jake, as usual, behind it. He was wearing that grin, the one that could light up a room even in a place where every corner was filled with noise and flashing lights. But something felt... off. He wasn't working the crowd like usual, wasn't leaning in to hear the regulars' stories or laughing at someone’s joke. He looked distant.I weaved through the crowd and made my way to the bar, throwing him a casual wave as I got closer. "Hey, you!"Jake looked up, and I swear his smile faltered for a split second before it returned—less bright, more polite.“Hey,” he said, his voice a little too casual. He glanced around nervously, wiping down the counter. “Can we, uh, talk for a second?”My stomac
“What are you doing here?” I blurted out, still reeling from Jake’s abrupt breakup.Evans finally looked at me, pulling out a cigarette from his jacket pocket. "Do you have a lighter?" he asked, ignoring my question entirely.I blinked. "You don't even smoke."He shrugged, lighting the cigarette with a gold lighter I didn’t know he had. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or genuine. With Evans, it was always hard to tell.We stood there in an awkward silence, the smoke from his cigarette curling lazily in the cool night air. I didn’t know why he was here, and frankly, I didn’t care. My mind was still spinning from Jake’s words—how things were ‘fine,’ how he wasn’t the right one for me. How it was over.'I exhaled, my breath visible in the crisp air. "Why are you really here, Evans?"He glanced at me, and for the first time, his usual arrogant smirk was gone. Instead, there was something quieter in his eyes. “I saw you walk out of the b
I walked into my dorm room and, as expected, found Dexter and Trixie tangled up on the couch, looking like they’d just stepped out of a romance. They were practically fused together—Dexter’s arm around her waist, their lips stuck together. Dexter and Trixie were high school sweethearts and madly in love with each other.I sighed dramatically, tossing my keys onto the counter. “Don’t let me interrupt, lovebirds. Just pretend I’m invisible. Keep ignoring me like you usually do.”Dexter barely glanced up, his attention still locked on Trixie as he muttered, “We do that all the time anyway.”Trixie, however, was less inclined to let me sulk. She untangled herself from Dexter’s grip and bounced up, her face all concern and curiosity. “Camron, wait, what’s going on? You look like someone stole your dessert.”I flopped onto my bed with a groan, covering my face with my hands. “Jake broke up with me.”“Oh, no!” Trixie gasped, plopping herself down on the edge of my bed. “That idiot! What happ
EvansI sat quietly at the dinner table, trying not to look too interested in the conversation swirling around me. Across from me, my father, Arthur Blake, held court, talking business with the energy he saved for family dinners, as if even our time together had to be a matter of strategic value. My mother, Elora, sat beside him. And right next to me, my twin brother, Ryan, soaked up Dad’s attention like he was basking in the sun, his smile wide, his posture attentive—exactly the way Dad liked it.I was used to this dynamic by now, and yet it always managed to sting. Tonight, it seemed to sting even more than usual. The way Dad beamed at Ryan, discussing business acquisitions and his next steps in the company, only highlighted how absent I was from his plans.“Ryan,” Dad said, leaning forward slightly, a rare gleam of pride in his eyes. “There’s a couple of new proposals I want you to review. Make sure they align with our expansion strategy. I think they could be an opportunity for yo