A/N: Another new story. :] I like this one, let me know if you do. Reviews are love!

Chapter One

Max Langston was tall and pale. He had proud, broad shoulders and narrowed at the waist, sporting the glorious swimmers body he’d been gifted with. His face was long and he had high cheekbones, his eyes were big and hazel, framed by long dark lashes, and his lips were pink and girlish. Max Langston was gorgeous in my eyes and in the eyes of hundreds of other females out there.

Max was in four out of my six classes, and during those four classes, I would do anything just to get a glance at him. I’d purposely drop my pencil so that I’d have an excuse to look back at him, or I’d make up an excuse to get out of my seat, any excuse, every excuse.

But sadly, Max’s best friend Randy was in all six of my classes. As high unlikely as it was, it was.

“Stella.” I twitched hearing my name coming from that mouth, it disgusted me. “Ste-lla.” He sang. I didn’t respond. “Stella, Stella, Stella, Stella, Stella, Stella, Stella.”

I balled my fist and gritted my teeth, taking a deep breath, I finally gave him what he wanted. “What?”

“Huh, did you say something? You aren’t speaking loud enough.”

“What. Do. You. Want. Randy.”

“Well, dear, darling Stella, I am your partner for this project, and being partners, we are required to work together. So, how about for a moment you put aside your undying love for me that keeps you speechless and frigid in your seat, and lets work together, shall we?”

I wanted to punch Randy in the face just like I had in seventh grade. You might be able to tell that this hatred I had for Randy Robertson was not something newly developed, it was a deep rooted hatred for the evil man/boy sitting across from me sitting across from me with dark, devious brown eyes and a devilish grin constantly plastered on his face, or of course his trademark sly smirk.

As far as I know, we had no problems up until second grade. That’s when it all started. I let him kick me around that year, and I mean that literally. He would constantly kick me seat from behind, and when we played kickball, he made sure he hit my head with the ball as often as he could. Not to mention he put gum in my hair, it had been long and curly, but alas it had to be chopped off.

But by third grade, I’d had enough of him; I decided that was the year I would get my revenge on the blonde, evil little boy. I put super glue in his chair, he blamed me, but it couldn’t be traced back to me. I put the bottle in his backpack. I ‘accidentally’ spilled milk on him during our class field trip.

The pranks continued up until I punched him in the face, from there it was just rude remarks, I think it was because he was afraid of me after that. I took pride in that fact. And when our fifth period U.S History teacher paired us up, people gasped. This guy had no idea what he was in for sticking us together.

Many girls had always wondered how I could resist the tall, muscular, man/boy. Calling him a man just didn’t seem right, but he wasn’t quite small enough to be considered a boy anymore. He towered over me at a good 6’2. And while I had to admit that Randy was dangerously close to Max’s gorgeous status, with his strong facial features and defined cheekbones, that arrogant attitude of his and of course our long history together brought his level of attractiveness down to zero in my eyes. Though on occasion, or from time to time, I’d catch my self glancing at my arch enemy and marveling at him and all of his Adonis like features, like how tan his sun kissed skin was, or how his thick blonde hair would fall in his face, just slightly long enough to reach his eyes, and the way his dark mischievous eyes would concentrate and focus on something and he would be lost in his own world. A world I’m sure he amused himself in by throwing pies at me or something like that.

I sighed defeated by him for once. I was too exhausted to keep fighting with him today. “Fine, Randy.” I said, “Since you’re so intent on starting this project, what do you think we should do?”

“Enthusiasm would be nice, Stella.” He said in a disapproving tone.

“Being ‘enthusiastic’, and ‘nice’ aren’t possible for me when I’m around you.” I said twirling my pencil; the less I looked at him, the better.

“Why is that?”

I stared him directly in the eyes, “because I hate you.” I said flatly, and then I looked away, continuing to twirl my pencil.

“Well, I don’t hate you, Stella, even though I probably should, considering you gave me that shiner in seventh grade.” I saw him cross his tan, muscular arms out of the corner of my eye.

“Would you like another?” I spared him another glance.

“No, no.” He said smirking, “one is enough for me.”

“Whatever, so what do you want to do for this project anyways?”

“Oh, Stella, I’m flattered, all of the sudden my thoughts matter to you.” He said with that evil grin of his and his dark eyes staring at me intently. I couldn’t keep contact with them for long, mostly because I didn’t want to look into the eyes of the spawn of the devil.

I took a deep breath and continued to look down at my blank piece of lined paper, he was infuriating. “Randy, I swear to God-“

“Ha, Stella, Hey, can you come here for a sec, I need your help.” I looked up to see my, blonde, short, spiky haired best friend, Callie smiling nervously at me, glancing from me to Randy. She tugged on my elbow and I stood, following her back to her and her partner, Rafael’s table.

“Hey Stell.” He greeted me with a genuine smile.

“Hey Rafa.” I returned his smile. We’d had Algebra 2 together in our junior year.

“Stella,” Callie said pleadingly, “Can you please not kill Randy? I know you hate him with every fiber of your entire being, but I mean, look at him, he’s hot, you’d have some serious haters if you did anything to disturb his great looks.”

I was about to open my mouth to make some sarcastic remark about him, but Callie continued. “Besides, if you can put up with Randy, he could be your ticket to hanging out with Max.”

I froze. Was Max worth putting up with Randy? I pictured him smiling at me and made up my mind.

“Fine.”

I returned to my seat and sat down.

“You know, Stella.” Randy said leaning forward a bit.

“What?”

“You’re pretty cute when you look like you want to kill me.”

“Is that some kind of sick fantasy you have?”

He laughed, “What if it is?”

“Fantasize about someone else.”

“I bet you fantasize about me…” he said suggestively.

I glared at him. “Bite me.”

“Oh, I’d be glad to.”

That was it.

A/N: Review por favor?