My Know-It-All Nemesis - Maggie Dallen Page 0,30
jealous of me?”
He widened his eyes. “I’ve never been good at anything in my entire life.”
“Oh, please,” I interrupted.
“I’m serious. I get good grades, but only because I work my butt off to catch up to people like you who seem to pick everything up instantly.”
“I don’t—” I started to protest, but he was on a roll.
“Take football,” he said. “I’ve never been naturally athletic. My whole life I practiced longer and harder than anyone else, and I’m still second string.”
I blinked in surprise because I’d thought…I mean, I’d just assumed he wasn’t first string because he hadn’t wanted it enough. I’d assumed anything he’d really wanted he got with a snap of his fingers.
Guilt had me gnawing on my lower lip, but I wasn’t ready to agree with him. Two years of frustration wouldn’t disappear in a heartbeat just because he wasn’t as untouchable as I’d thought.
“Oh yeah?” I said, not loving the immature note of challenge in my voice. “Well, try staying on top of classwork and leading every club…all while working part-time as well.” I took a step closer so I was in his face. “Do you have any idea how much free time I have?”
He opened his mouth, but I was too quick. “None.” I held up a zero with my fingers. “None at all. So while everyone in school is talking about how much fun they had at your latest party, or hanging out at the game, or going to the movies…I have to sit there and try not to yawn because my every available evening and weekend hour is spent making money so I can contribute.”
His brows fell as he studied me and—ugh. I hated that look. Pity was there in his eyes. I hurried on before he could say something patronizing about my part-time job. “And friends,” I hurried on, gesturing to the crowd of people outside. “You came here and in minutes you were the king of this school. And you’re telling me that didn’t come easily?”
His expression turned jaded. “No, that’s the one area where money has gotten me something.”
I cringed at the self-deprecating tone. “You don’t really think that,” I said. “You strut through the school—”
“I strut?” he interrupted.
“And everyone fawns all over you. Every girl wants you, and every guy wants to be you and—”
“Because I throw parties,” he said like it was a no-brainer. “Because I can spring for a limo or a night out at a restaurant.” He shrugged. “Really? Is that what you’re so jealous of?”
“Yes! It’s just one of so many ways you have it easy. You’re liked by everyone—”
“And you’re likeable!” he shouted.
I stared at him, and we shared a moment of awkward silence. “Was that supposed to be an insult?” I asked. “Because it wasn’t a very good one.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “It’s not an insult. I wasn’t at this school for more than a minute before I realized that everyone loves the sweet, kind, smart, reliable Kate Andrews.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, they love me so much that no one has ever invited me to a party.”
It slipped out before I could stop myself, and as soon as it did, I wished I could call it back because something in Miller’s expression shifted again and it made me furious.
“Don’t look at me like that! I’m not looking for pity,” I said with a sneer.
“You could have fooled me,” he said.
I gasped with outrage. “You’re one to talk. Boo hoo, I have to work hard for my grades.” I jabbed a finger at him again. “You and I both know that even if you slacked off, it wouldn’t matter—”
“But I don’t,” he shouted. “I never have. I’m not going to pay for the things I want rather than earn them. That’s how my dad rolls. That’s the way my mom lives. I’m not going to be like that. I’m going to work for the things I want. I’m going to earn them.”
I blinked in shock at the vehemence in his voice.
“You know better than anyone that I have never slacked off, and I never will—even if it means you have a fight on your hands for your oh-so-precious student council president job.”
I clenched my hands at my sides. “You don’t even want it.”
“What?” he said. “Of course, I do.” But his flinch gave him away.
“No. You don’t,” I said the words slowly, over enunciating like he was an idiot. He wasn’t an idiot, but right now he was acting like