The Rules of the Game

By Monday morning, I had already regretted accepting the dare.

Not because I thought I couldn't do it.

I could.

That wasn't the problem.

The problem was Annika Rodriguez.

She wasn't easy.

She wasn't impressed by money.

She didn't care about basketball.

She didn't care how many people knew my name.

And she certainly didn't care about my reputation with girls.

If anything, my reputation seemed to make her dislike me more.

Which meant the usual tricks wouldn't work.

I couldn't simply smile at her.

I couldn't buy her flowers.

I couldn't flirt with her in the way I usually flirted with girls.

She would see right through it.

I needed a strategy.

And unfortunately, my strategy was sitting across from me at the breakfast table.

Annika was reading.

Again.

She had one hand around her coffee mug while the other turned the pages of a thick textbook.

I watched her for several seconds.

She didn't look up.

"You're staring."

I smiled.

"Good morning."

"That's not an answer."

"I'm looking at you."

"I noticed."

"Then why ask?"

She sighed.

"You're annoying before eight in the morning."

"It's a talent."

She closed her book.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing."

"You've been staring at me for two minutes."

"Maybe I like looking at you."

She froze.

Only for a second.

Then she narrowed her eyes.

"What's wrong with you?"

I laughed.

"Nothing."

"You've been acting strange since Friday."

"Have I?"

"Yes."

"Maybe I'm changing."

"For the worse?"

"Possibly."

She shook her head.

Then she picked up her coffee.

I watched her take a sip.

"You're drinking it."

She frowned.

"Obviously."

"The coffee you told me not to touch?"

"Yes."

"Interesting."

"Why?"

"Because you said I couldn't have any."

"You don't."

"I thought you hated sharing."

"I do."

"So why are you letting me watch you drink it?"

She stared at me.

"I don't understand you."

"Good."

She returned to her book.

I smiled.

First rule of the game:

Get her attention.

Easy.

Second rule:

Make her comfortable around me.

Harder.

Third rule:

Make her see me differently.

That was going to be the hardest part.

At school, Annika walked beside me.

Not because she wanted to.

Because we had the same class.

At least, that was what she kept reminding me.

"You don't have to walk so close."

I looked down.

"We're walking."

"You're walking too close."

"I have long legs."

"Then use them somewhere else."

I laughed.

"You always complain."

"Because you always do something annoying."

I stepped closer.

She immediately moved away.

I smiled.

"You're nervous."

"I'm not."

"Then why did you move?"

"Because you're invading my personal space."

I stopped.

"Okay."

She glanced at me.

I stayed where I was.

She looked surprised.

"What?"

"Nothing."

We continued walking.

A few students passed us.

Some stared.

Others whispered.

I heard someone say

"Are they dating?"

Annika heard it too.

She immediately turned.

"We're not dating."

The student looked embarrassed.

"Sorry."

I smiled.

Annika glared at me.

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were about to."

"Maybe."

She sighed.

"You enjoy this."

"Maybe."

She shook her head.

But this time...

she was smiling.

I noticed.

And I couldn't stop thinking about it.

During our free period, we went to the library to work on our project.

Annika sat across from me.

She opened her laptop.

"Let's finish the financial analysis."

"Okay."

For twenty minutes, we worked in silence.

Then I noticed something.

She was tapping her pen against the table.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

I reached across and gently took the pen from her hand.

She looked up.

"What are you doing?"

"You do that when you're stressed."

Her expression changed.

"How do you know?"

I shrugged.

"I've seen you do it."

"Why have you been watching me?"

"You're my rival."

"That's not an answer."

"It is."

She stared at me.

Then she looked down at the table.

"I'm not stressed."

"You're nervous."

"I'm not."

"You've been staring at the same number for five minutes."

She looked at her screen.

Then at me.

"You're irritating."

"I know."

She took the pen back.

"Focus."

I smiled.

"Yes, ma'am."

A few minutes later, I noticed she was struggling with one part of the analysis.

"You have the formula wrong."

She frowned.

"No, I don't."

"You do."

She turned her laptop toward me.

"Show me."

I leaned closer.

She moved her chair slightly.

I ignored it.

"Look."

I pointed at the numbers.

"You used the previous year's growth rate."

She stared at the screen.

Then her eyes widened.

"You're right."

I smiled.

"Say it again."

"No."

"Come on."

"You're right."

I grinned.

"I think I need that recorded."

She laughed softly.

I froze.

There it was again.

That laugh.

I hadn't realized how much I liked hearing it.

Until then.

"Why are you staring again?"

I blinked.

"Sorry."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing."

She looked at me for a moment.

Then returned to her laptop.

But this time...

she didn't move her chair away.

After class, I found Diego waiting outside.

He immediately looked past me.

"Where's Annika?"

"Library."

"You left her there?"

"Yes."

He frowned.

"You're already losing."

"What?"

"The dare."

I laughed.

"I haven't even started."

"Exactly."

I walked beside him.

"What's the plan?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because I made the bet."

"You're enjoying this."

"Of course."

I sighed.

"She's not like other girls."

Diego laughed.

"That's exactly why this is going to be fun."

I stopped walking.

"What?"

He looked at me.

"You've finally realized it."

"Realized what?"

"You're actually interested in her."

I scoffed.

"I'm interested in winning."

"Sure."

I didn't answer.

Because I wasn't completely sure anymore.

That evening, the house was unusually quiet.

My parents were out for dinner.

Annika's mother was with them.

Which meant it was just the two of us.

I walked downstairs and found Annika in the living room.

She was sitting on the couch with her laptop.

She looked up.

"You."

"Me."

"What do you want?"

"Why do you always assume I want something?"

"Because you usually do."

I sat on the other end of the couch.

She looked suspicious.

"What are you doing?"

"Sitting."

"Why here?"

"It's a couch."

"There's another one."

"I like this one."

She sighed.

"Of course you do."

For a few minutes, neither of us spoke.

The television played quietly.

I looked at her.

She was typing.

"You're studying again?"

"Yes."

"It's Saturday."

"I know."

"Don't you ever rest?"

"Do you?"

"Sometimes."

"When?"

"After basketball."

She smiled faintly.

"At least you're good at something."

I looked at her.

"Something?"

"Basketball."

"Only basketball?"

She shrugged.

"I haven't decided."

I smiled.

"You think I'm good at other things."

"I didn't say that."

"But you thought it."

"No."

"You did."

She rolled her eyes.

"You are exhausting."

I laughed.

Then I noticed she looked tired.

Her shoulders were tense.

Her eyes were slightly red from staring at the screen.

"You should sleep."

"I'm fine."

"You're tired."

"I'm not."

"You've been studying since dinner."

"I have an exam."

"Tomorrow?"

"No."

"Monday?"

"No."

"Then stop."

She stared at me.

"Why do you care?"

I didn't have an answer.

Not one I could say.

So I shrugged.

"Because if you fall asleep during our project, I'll have to do all the work."

She smiled.

"You're worried about your grade."

"Exactly."

She closed her laptop.

"Fine."

She stood.

Then stopped.

"Thank you."

I looked at her.

"For what?"

"For telling me to rest."

I smiled.

"Don't mention it."

She nodded.

Then walked upstairs.

I watched her disappear.

And suddenly, the dare felt different.

I had started this because I wanted to win.

But that night, sitting alone in the living room, I realized something uncomfortable.

I didn't want to hurt her.

I didn't want to embarrass her.

And I definitely didn't want her to find out that the attention I'd been giving her had started because of a bet.

Because somewhere between the arguments...

the teasing...

the stolen coffee...

and the late-night conversations...

I was beginning to care about what she thought of me.

And that wasn't part of the plan.

Not even close.

The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual.

I went downstairs.

Annika was already there.

She was standing in the kitchen, trying to reach something from the top shelf.

I watched her struggle for a few seconds.

Then I walked over.

"What are you doing?"

She jumped.

"Shit!" She curse

I reached above her and grabbed the box.

She looked up.

"Oh."

I handed it to her.

"Here."

"Thanks."

She took it.

Our fingers touched.

Only for a second.

But neither of us moved immediately.

Her eyes met mine.

Something shifted.

It was small.

Almost invisible.

But I felt it.

She pulled her hand away first.

"Breakfast?"

I nodded.

"Sure."

We sat at the kitchen island.

For once, there was no argument.

No teasing.

No insults.

Just silence.

Comfortable silence.

And somehow, that scared me more than our arguments ever had.

Because I could handle Annika when she was angry.

I could handle her sarcasm.

I could handle her competition.

But I didn't know what to do when she looked at me like that.

Like maybe...

just maybe...

she was starting to see me differently too.

And if that was true...

then the game I had started as a joke was becoming something neither of us knew how to stop.

Because the most dangerous part of a game isn't losing.

It's forgetting that you were playing in the first place.