A/N:
so okay, i had lots of trouble with the title, i was never really able to settle with a good enough title for the story. and yes, i've made a couple that didn't seem quite appealing. and well, i guess A Bet Against The Best will be the final one. i think it's the most relevant one out of all i have come up with. i hope it works. :) and i'd like to thank sugarlessgirl for the criticism. :) reviews are appreciated!

Chapter 1: Opposites Attack

He was greeted with high fives and cheers as he entered the school. He scored the winning goal of the latest game which made the Brier Cougars of Brier High School qualified for the state championships yet again. And it was all because of him. His teammates were more than proud for their star player, the Golden Boy of the school. Girls swooned at him as he melted their hearts with that simple lop-sided smile of his. The phrase 'looks that could kill' applied very much to his profile. He was the complete package, the full definition of an infamous Golden Boy. He loved the praises and held his head up high while he walked those halls. He enjoyed the frequent ego-stroking and attention he was given. He had the pleasure when girls batted their eyes flirtatiously at him and were visibly flushed as he, in return, would flash an award-winning smile. Those praises would never stop. Almost everyone idolized him and desired to be like him and with him—worshipping the ground he walked on. Life was great for him.

She walked hurriedly though the halls, annoyed by the loudness and the commotion going on early in the morning. Thank God for ipods, right? She didn't mind anything or anyone around her, the same way everyone didn't bother to acknowledge her sometimes. She wasn't that loner who didn't have friends—she had her fair share of friends, of course—she just preferred to be by herself most of the time. Others thought it was a crazy idea to isolate herself like that. But to her, she thought of it as individuality; standing out of the crowd. She had always dreamed of making a name for herself. Sad to say, though, that that plan backfires most of the time. In high school, no one really cared about anyone else except the popular kids, the jocks and heirs to millions at 16. It was pointless. Who knew that people gave so much importance to a single label? It was so immature, she thought. But it was late to change things. All she could do, most of the time, was drown herself in music, escape the ridiculousness of how high school was, while getting out of that place that would soon lead her to a hell hole.

At one point, he was able to look up and take a glance at all the people flocking around him. Weren't they going anywhere? Being one of the most popular jocks and the most favored student in high school had its benefits, and just the same, had disadvantages. The crowd would never fail to be a nuisance at some point. How was he supposed to find his locker with all those people gathered around him? How was he going to go on with his business with them on his back all the time? And sometimes, he couldn't even act all human with the whole 'I make mistakes, too' thing. One wrong move and the people neglect you. It wasn't all so easy. But at that time, all he wanted to do was find his locker. But that seemed impossible, then.

The crowd was suffocating her, though she wasn't part of it. All she wanted to do was get to class—alive. Pushing only made minimal difference to the situation. Getting to class on time was almost impossible. Damn that idiot, she cursed mentally and scowled at the person causing all this: Him. Everyone should get a life and stop following him around. Yes, she knew who he was—well, at least his name. And there was the possibility of a million to nil that he knew her (well, at least her name.) He was the reason behind the clogging up of almost half of the student body in that single hall. That idiotic, egotistical jerk. No, she didn't know him fully, but he did fit the stereotype. All she knew was his name, the name you would often hear girls in the bathroom gush about which went by: Logan Dashield.

He was at wit's end now. He was almost unable to move, almost stationary. Seriously, sometimes, these kids should get a life. Was everyone following him? To him, it felt like it was the whole student body in that hall. What the hell?! It didn't seem like anyone was moving anymore! What were they doing just standing there?! Honestly, they were becoming a waste of space. If only they-- wait a minute…

He saw a shade of brunette moving, almost making a fuss. That was a relief. At least someone was moving, trying to get around. Now just a hundred more to go. He popped his head out of the crowd and squinted, trying to get a better view of her. He got more than that, though. At that exact moment, she turned to face him and scowled at him. She seemed like she was cursing him silently. Ah, Her. Yes, it was her again. She looked so irate, as if she was going to explode any minute. Ha! That made two of them. He couldn't help but laugh at her expression--her brows almost met, looking like a grumpy little kid who refused to eat her vegetables. She usually had this attitude going on: always preferring to be alone. She liked being kept so mysterious under her circumstances. He knew who she was--well, at least her name. He didn't know what she was like or how she was. All he knew was her name, her simple name which went by: Tally Tanner.

He looked to his side, where his best friend, Devon Mathes, stood. Nudging him by the shoulder, Devon suddenly looks at him. He raised his left brow as if to silently ask, 'What?'

"Don't you have a class with her?" Logan asked.

Devon scratched the back of his head, somewhat confused. "With who?"

Logan nodded towards the direction of the brunette--he pretended not to know her name--pushing her way out of the crowd, visibly with much effort, though that wasn't as effective as one would think.

"Her?" Devon asked, for clarification. He wondered why his friend suddenly asked about her--of all people. Devon knew who she was as well. She wasn't as anonymous as she thought she was, except that she wasn't known the way she preferred.

"Tally?" he asked again.

"Yeah." Logan simply replied with a pinch of impatience in his voice.

"AP History." Devon finally answered. "Why?"

"Isn't that your first period now?"

"Yeah, but it's not like we could get out of this mess in a minute."

"Yeah, doesn't look like it."

"Moses would fit the job description."

"Mhm."

They talked too soon, however…

"Students of Brier High" The intercom boomed with the principal's firm command. "Please proceed to your classes immediately! I want the locker halls to be clear in 5 seconds!"

Before the principal started counting down, the halls started to clear with the students rushing out of the way. It seemed like a miracle had just happened.

"5…4..."

The boys chuckled, pretty amused.

"3…2…"

By that time, the halls were clear enough for late students to run to class.

"I'll see you in 3rd period, man." Devon patted his back and waved off.

Logan nodded as his eyes subconsciously travel to the room where Devon (and Tally) would have History class at.

He was as curious as Devon when it came to the reason why he was suddenly intrigued by this girl. She didn't seem like a whole lot before. So why now?

"In the middle of the 19th century, white Americans of the North and South were unable to reconcile fundamental differences in their approach to government, economics, society and African American slavery." As usual, Mr. Malone goes on with his everyday lecture on the American History which often bores the guts out of the teens who have tackled such subject over and over again through their scholastic years. To survive this class, one must learn the art of sleeping with your eyes open. This trick is done inaccurately by students who are careless, and appear difficult to students who just can't keep their eyes open for the trick. Teachers, however, still remain oblivious to this ploy done and attempted by most students. "The issue of slavery in the new territories was settled by the Compromise of 1850 brokered by--"

"Sorry I'm late!"

Tally lifted her head from the table, (she wasn't really much the expert when it came to sleeping with her eyes open) to see who suddenly barged in and interrupted the dreary class. Whoever that person was would be labeled her new hero.

Mr. Malone slightly pulls his thick glasses down to the bridge of his nose to see who it was. "I believe you aren't in my class, Mr.…"

"Dashield." He said with a proud smile. "Logan Dashield."

So he was the alleged intruder?!

Okay, so maybe she wouldn't be labeling anyone her new hero now…

"Ah, yes. Mr. Dashield, don't you have another class to attend?" Poor Mr. Malone was as confused as all the others. "I sincerely do not remember you in my class at this hour."

"Well, starting today, I will be!" Logan announced, calmly flexing his biceps. Tally rolled her eyes. Show off, she thought.

"I don't think I follow…"

"Mr. Malone, just recently, I have applied for your class. I changed my 1st period of Geometry with my 5th period of AP History." Logan explained.

"How recent?" Mr. Malone's voice came flat and indifferent.

"Uh, well," Logan rubbed the back of his neck and smiled, his expression looking a bit embarrassed. "Just a moment ago, right before I came in here."

"And why the sudden change, Mr. Dashield?"

By this time, Devon already knew the reason why Logan shifted all of a sudden. All the reasons seemed to point at the silent girl at the center of the room, slumped onto her table, looking like she was about to doze off again: Tally Tanner.

"I couldn't wait?" Logan answered, his answer almost sounding uncertain, like he was asking Mr. Malone if his answer was the right one.

Mr. Malone only narrowed his eyes at the tall boy with messy dark brown hair and such a lean physique.

Seriously, how could he fall for that? How could anyone fall for that lame excuse?

He sighed (that was about the only thing he did). "Alright, you are welcome to my class."

Well, it looks like he did. Or then again, maybe he was just tired to deal with it because he was so engrossed with his uninteresting lecture just before Logan walked in that he couldn't wait to continue further.

"Thank you Mr. Malone!" Logan beamed. "So," he sighed, rubbing his hands together, looking excited now. "Where should I sit?"

"On Tanner!" Devon suddenly piped up, and in the next second, was laughing at his spontaneous genius-ness. Logan snorted but followed his friend's crazy suggestion.

Tally looked up, alarmed at the sound of her name.

She saw him walk to her table. Something told her they weren't kidding at all. What the hell did they want?

She fumbled to do whatever she could to stop him from doing what he was thinking of doing.

The next thing she knew, he was on her lap.

Tally scowled at him.

Logan did nothing but flashed his annoying so-called heart-melting smirks.

Her expression flickered from shocked to annoyed and angry as she threw him a threatening look. He merely chuckled at the look on her face which was unbelievably vivid.

She hand shot up abruptly. "Mr. Malone!" she called. "I would want Logan to be off my lap as soon as possible, please. And also, make him sit out of class if he can't find a decent place to sit at."

"You don't think this is decent enough?" Logan slyly asked with a sheepish grin. She glared, stunned by his behavior toward her. What the hell was his problem, anyway?

Mr. Malone sighed, and with tire in his voice, he orders, "Dashield, get off her or I will report you of harassing Ms. Tanner."

Logan jumps off without skipping a beat. "Yes, sir."

"There's an empty table by the corner, you can take that."

Before he moved to his new place in the room, he glanced back at Tally, giving her one of his renowned smirks. "Thanks, by the way."

It was amazing how easily he chose to give a bad impression of himself to her. He seemed much more charming to other girls than he seemed to Tally.

She decided to ignore him for the rest of the period.

 That lunch time, Tally carried her tray to the table that had become hers ever since the start of high school.

No, she isn't some friendless loser. Of course not. Tally is sociable in her own way. It just takes an effort to get to know her. She was just…secure of herself.

She plops down and settled on her place. She doesn't really label the table hers. There were particular people that ask to sit at her table when the canteen gets packed, which was okay by her.

She turns on her ipod as she dug into her food. The food wasn't anything special. Meat loaf and dry, soggy fries that came with spaghetti. Tally wasn't a fan of it, but again, she really didn't mind.

"The Killers?"

Tally looks up to the voice that, out of the blue, rang in her ears, disrupting her peace.

She found herself face to face with the a boy looking over her shoulder--the same boy who invaded her lap 5 periods ago with the same messy brown hair, hazel eyes and smirk on his face that he can't seem to wipe off.

Heaving a sigh, she takes of her earphones. "Dashield, if you're looking for a seat, you're not getting any here. Especially not on my lap."

"Aw man, that seat was by far, the most comfortable." He was teasing her.

"You can leave now." she ordered dismissively and faces her food once again.

"Like 'em?" he suddenly asked after a short pause.

"What?" she turns back to face him, confused and annoyed at the same time. Wasn't he supposed to be leaving?

"You listen to them often?" He asked. "The Killers, I mean."

"Yeah, they're great." She answers monotonously, turning back again, hoping he'd leave already.

He takes a seat beside her though, just staring at her the next second.

"What are you doing?" Tally asked irritably.

"What does it look like?"

"You look dumb." She answered. Then, sarcastically, she added, "Oh, right, that's you."

"Sharp tongue you got there." He commented.

"Do you get the kick out of bothering people?"

"Why do you like being so alone?" he countered.

"Because I'd rather be alone than be with people like you." She shot back.

"And people like me are….?"

"I'm not playing fill in the blanks with you, Dashield."

"You can't even say it!"

"Because it doesn't have to be said, it's obvious."

"Whatever." He shrugged, picking out a fry from her plate.

"Hey! That's mine!"

"And you've got lots more."

"So you're trying to get my food, then?"

"You got the last plate of fries."

"Ridiculous." She shook her head. "First you invade my personal space and now you take my food, too?"

"Somethin' like that."

"Fine." She simply said, digging in her spaghetti.

He was surprised, yet satisfied with himself. "So you're actually making me stay?"

Sighing, she asked, "If I tell you to leave, would you?"

"No." he answered.

"Exactly." She points out.

She ignores him as this huge grin appears on his face.

"Wow, Tanner, I knew I was too good to resist."

"I thought my babysitting days were over." She groaned. "And here, I feel like I'm dealing with a 5 year old."

 "I'm here, I'm here!" Tally stormed in from the back door of the kitchen.

"It's alright, honey, you're just in time." Her father told her as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek while putting on her apron and cap to get ready.

This was how it was for Tally every afternoon after school. She ran down to the local coffee shop her father owned down the corner of the school's street. That was the only chore her parents asked her to do--help at the coffee shop. But Tally didn't think of it as a chore simply because oddly, she enjoyed being there every afternoon.

"Next please!" Tally called the next customer as she finished with the previous one.

"Oh… hey."

Tally paled. Then, she felt the blood rush to her cheeks while she steamed.

What was he doing here?!

"Dashield?" she asked, a bit harshly.

"Tanner?" his counter was easy and relaxed.

"What are you up to?" she demanded.

"Can't I get coffee?" he asked trying to put on an innocent face.

"Why don't you try in another place?" she said curtly.

"Why not this one?"

"'coz you're not getting any from here."

"Aren't you supposed to be welcoming customers in and treating them; not driving them away?" he said in a matter-of-factly tone with that annoying smirk tugging on his lips.

Smart ass, she thought.

"It won't be very good to business when said customer being driven away tells everyone else and they won't be pleased about it one bit."

Her brows shot up in shock. "Oh I get it." She declared. "Blackmail? That's what you came for?" she asked expectantly.

"Of course not, sweet pea." He replied. She cringed at the nickname. "Why must you make things so difficult? I only want coffee." His expression quickly changed right after a short pause, plastering a cheeky grin on his face as he continued, "Unless you have other things in mind, which I might be up to, too."

"Shut up." she interjected, shaking the ridiculousness of his immature thinking off her mind.

"Fine then." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Maybe another time."

"There won't be another time." she said through gritted teeth. "So you can just leave right now."

"I guess I was wrong, then." He said dramatically, heaving a sigh.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"I always thought shops like these were inviting."

"Well, this shop doesn't take in stalkers." She snapped.

He was visibly taken aback for a second but was able to recompose himself in a split second.

"Who, me?" he asked, an amused look visible on his face.

"No. Just this certain guy who's been following me around ever since first period today." was her smart reply.

"And might I know this certain guy who you think is the stalker? 'Cause I would gladly take him out for you."

"That's a great idea!" she gave him a fake smile. "Now just turn your head around and go through that door with the sign of just four letters illuminated in red." She stuck her hand out to point the direction to him.

He followed where she was pointing and chuckled softly as he realized she was meaning the exit sign.

Instead of following what she had instructed him to do; he leaned in closer to the counter so that their faces would only be inches apart. She narrowed her eyes at him and scowled; and he merely winked at her. She didn't know why, but his mannerisms just seemed to get her irate at such a small point. She was never the irate type, but when it came to him, she just wanted to slap him right away.

When she was ready to raise her hand to take a shot at his face, he pulled away, as if knowing what she was about to do.

"So, what're you guys selling?" he asked casually.

"None of your business." She muttered.

"C'mon, work with me, Tanner." He said, looking up to the huge board behind Tally that enlisted the flavors and types of coffee that were available, while he tapped his foot lightly on the ground.

"I don't even know why you're here." She grumbled, shaking her head.

He looked away from the board to face her. "Coffee." He simply stated his alleged reason yet again.

"You don't even drink coffee!" she exclaimed.

"Oh really?" he arched up an eyebrow, pretentiously.

"And you never come here!" she continued.

He narrowed his eyes at her and murmured, "Are you sure about who your little stalker friend really is?"

Her eyes widened at his question. "Now you're calling me the stalker?!"

He shrugged coolly. "Nah." He said. "Just this girl who's been checking me out ever since… God knows when. I mean, she even knows I don't drink coffee and that this is probably the first time I've ever stepped into this place."

"Ugh!" she shrieked. "You little—!"

"What's going on?" Tally's father cut in, emerging from the back.

"Mr. Tanner?" Logan called, as if he had known him for a long time and had seen him for the first time in years.

"Oh, hi." Tally's dad was always so polite, even to the extent of greeting complete strangers; even the egotistical jerk type of stranger who seemed to be tormenting his daughter just before he came in.

Mr. Tanner looked at Tally expectantly; waiting for her to introduce the guy he thought was her friend.

Tally argued with him silently through the look she was giving her father. Her father just patiently waited despite her refusal.

She sighed heavily and finally introduced them to one another. "Dad, this is Logan from school." She said, gesturing her father to Logan. "Logan, my dad." She said in a flat voice, frowning at him as she gestured him her father.

"Pleased to meet you, sir." Logan held out his hand and the men shook their hands. "Nice place you got here." He commented courteously. Why was he all of a sudden so polite? One thing was sure; he was getting on her nerves.

"Thank you." Mr. Tanner smiled, pretty pleased. If anything, above all else, the coffee shop was reasonably his pride; so it made him feel good when people came in with comments like that.

"So, are you having anything?" he asked the boy.

"Oh, I was just asking Tally what I should be having since, you know, I'm not much of a fan of coffee." Logan replied.

"Ah," Mr. Tanner nodded. "Well, any decisions yet?"

"Take the vanilla frappe." Tally muttered.

"Just the vanilla frappe." Logan automatically answered.

"I'll be right back with your order." And with that, Mr. Tanner disappeared.

"Thanks for the help, sweet pea." Logan grinned at her as he knew she hated what he was pet-naming her.

A couple of minutes later, he was called and given his vanilla frappe.

"Outside!" Tally barked emerging from behind the counter, exiting the shop. Logan followed her willingly; contented with himself by the way she had been suddenly at wits end. She was too easy for his games.

When she was outside, she felt ready to explode right then and there. She clenched her fists on her side, careful not to throw them at him without warning (even though she would have done that a long time go, just not in front of her dad's shop).

"Just tell me what you want." She ordered as calmly as she could.

"Nothing." He shrugged and pointed to the cup he was holding. "Just my vanilla frappe."

"Nice try, but I'm not buying it." She stepped up closer to him so their proximity was almost only a few centimeters away. He towered over her by at least a good 5 inches. She narrowed her eyes at him, burning holes into his eyes. He merely grinned at her.

"What. Do. You. Want?" she repeated as if she were talking to a five year old.

"I told you: Nothing!" he repeated, his voice rising.

She was appalled, her jaw dropping. Wasn't she supposed to be the one doing the screaming?

"Excuse me, but I'm doing the yelling here! You're supposed to be saving your sorry little butt by walking away! It's the least you could do!" her voice rose equally as his.

"I'm not yelling." He said, his voice lower now.

"Hypocrite! You just did earlier!" she threw her hands in the air, exasperated. He thought he could play mind games with her?

"Look, I just want coffee, I'm tired from practice, don't you get that?"

"Yeah, right."

"Well, unless you'd want something else." He suddenly grinned, his face lighting up at a thought.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped, frowning.

"I always knew girls liked to point out the opposites."

"Sure, whatever." She rolled her eyes and turned to get back in. The conversation was pointless. No one was getting anywhere with him.

"So does that mean you want a date?" he called for her.

She laughed a sarcastic laugh and turned to face him. "Aw shucks, you caught me, Dashield. I'm just so madly in love with you right now."

"That's the spirit." He tagged along, playing the game with her. "We're all friends, no need to be ashamed of the truth."

Tally, however, suddenly felt uneasy. She knew he was taking this seriously. Gosh, can't that kid take sarcasm? He was obviously wrong about knowing ladies.

"Seriously, Dashield, you're not my type." She told him, straightforward.

"Oh, you have a type?" he asked, looking skeptical.

"Unfortunately, it isn't you."

"Ouch." His hand clutched his chest, acting as if he was suddenly shot by a bullet. "Try laying low with the snide comments, sweetheart, I know you want me so bad. You know it too."

"If this is your way of making girls swoon at you, then you're barking up the wrong tree, buster." Now, once again, she turned for the door but was, again, called back by Logan.

"Oh you think I'm making a move on you?" he suddenly laughed.

She just stood there, fuming with rage. He was so immature, she thought to herself.

"Really, I think you're the one who wants me to make a move on you." He declared, smiling to himself.

"As if! Not even if you were the last man on earth!" she interjected.

"But by then, you wouldn't have a choice. The life of the earth would be on your hands and you'd inevitably have to make babies with me."

"I'd rather kill myself and let the earth die along." She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You've got one cold heart there, sweet pea." He shook his head.

"A heart that isn't for you, smart ass."

"Oh come on. Even a date won't hurt."

"Would you listen to yourself? You're the one desperate for a date with me!"

"Conceited now, are we?"

"Oh speak for yourself."

"Feisty."

"Jerk."

"Look, I'd love to stay and chat more--maybe even go further-- but I'm running late already, so how 'bout we reschedule?" he proposed.

Tally's nose wrinkled in disgust. 'Maybe even go further'? Seriously, this kid had mental issues, Tally thought harshly. And then he breezily talks about them having kids when the earth depended on them for it. It was just wrong and it disgusted her.

"The only thing we're rescheduling is your death." She retorted. "It'll be earlier if you don't leave."

"You don't have to knock me out to have your way, darling. I'd be missing out on all the fun." He said, mischievously.

Whatever was going through his mind was plain filthy.

"You're sick." Tally said, dismissively. She spun around, and on her third attempt, was ready to get back inside the shop.

"How about next Tuesday, after practice, by the bleachers!" he called.

By this time, she already entered the shop, greeted by the fresh scent of caffeine. She felt elated to finally not be in the same place as the annoying Logan Dashield.

She smiled to herself, "I don't think so."