All Chapters of Hate You, Till I Don't : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

POV: Ave Ave Imani didn’t believe in fate. She believed in schedules, study plans, and noise-canceling headphones. She believed in caffeine-fueled all-nighters, in her well-thumbed planner with color-coded tabs. She believed in fixing problems, not people. Which is why when Principal Halvorsen announced the pairings for this year’s National STEM Prototype Competition, and Blake Monroe’s name landed next to hers on the team list — she nearly dropped her mechanical pencil. “Nope,” Ave muttered under her breath. Nia, her best friend since third grade and the only person who could decode her micro-reactions, leaned closer. “Did I hear a glitch in the Ave Imani composure system?” Ave narrowed her eyes at the projector screen where her name blazed in traitorous bold: Ave Imani & Blake Monroe. “I’m going to scream,” she hissed. “I’d advise you not to,” Nia whispered, mouth twitching. “Principal Halvorsen looks like he’s one unpaid invoice away from a breakdown.” Ave didn’t respond.

POV: Ave --- The next morning, Ave Imani didn’t make it five minutes into the hallway before hearing her name. Twice. Once in a whispered hiss between lockers. Then again in a chuckle that rode the edge of mockery. > “Yo, isn’t that the girl who used to date Blake?” “Nah, they never dated. Just kissed and combusted.” “So what’s this competition thing then? Enemies with… benefits?” Ave walked faster, back straight, heart hammering. She didn’t flinch — not where anyone could see. She’d mastered the art of composure years ago. But inside? Her nerves danced like static on broken speakers. --- She found Nia near the vending machine before second period, and Nia barely looked up before blurting: “You’ve been trending in the GC since 7:45.” Ave groaned. “What now?” “Some sophomore posted a clip of you and Blake working in the lab. He was leaning over your screen. Too close. The caption said, ‘When your enemy smells like temptation.’” Ave’s mouth dropped open. “He what?” “It

POV: Ave --- 11:42 PM — Wednesday Ave’s room was dark except for the soft blue glow of her desk lamp. She should’ve been asleep. She’d promised herself she would be — by ten at the latest. But her prototype module was still on her desk, half-wired and blinking at her like a disappointed parent. The humidity sensors were glitching, and the solar connection didn’t calibrate the way it should. She’d tried three different builds. All three sucked. And now, her brain was a whirlwind of caffeine, frustration, and Blake’s voice from earlier. > “Sometimes structure suffocates the spark.” Why couldn’t he just shut up? Why did he say things like that and then leave her to think about them? She chewed the inside of her cheek, stared at the module again, and cursed under her breath. Then, impulsively, she grabbed her phone and texted him. > Ave: You still awake? The reply came back faster than she expected. > Blake: Obviously. Blake: Thought you’d be pretending I don’t exist. > A

POV: Ave --- Saturday — Competition Day One Ave Imani woke up to chaos. Her alarm had failed. Her hoodie was inside out. The prototype battery was only 67% charged. And worst of all? Her brain wouldn’t stop replaying Blake Monroe’s voice from the night before. > “You ever think about how things used to be?” God. Why did he have to bring that up? Why did he say it like that — like there had been a them, like what they shared that day wasn’t a mistake sealed behind embarrassment and silence? She shoved her laptop into her tote bag and tightened the laces on her sneakers. This was not about feelings. This was about winning. And if he thought a little emotional whiplash could shake her, he’d forgotten who she was. --- At Crescent Hill — First Challenge Briefing Teams were gathered in the tech lab. The buzz was loud, caffeine-fueled, and competitive. Mrs. Cardenas stepped forward. “Challenge One: Real-Time Implementation.” She clicked the projector, and the slide behind h

POV: Ave --- Ave didn’t know it would feel like this. Winning. Not just passing, not just scraping through — but actually winning. It had started with the clap. One slow beat of applause, then a surge of it. Not just polite clapping, but real, full-bodied, back-of-the-auditorium kind of applause. The kind that made her freeze for half a second as she stepped off the stage and wondered — was that for us? Blake nudged her elbow slightly with his own, eyes steady, lips twitching into a crooked, surprised smile. “Still breathing?” he asked, low enough for just her. She didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure if she was. --- By Monday morning, Crescent Hill’s halls buzzed with the kind of attention Ave hated most. > “Did you see their pitch?” “She carried it. Like, carried it.” “Nah, Blake stood there like a Marvel bodyguard and let her cook.” “Why do they look good together though?” “Is this our new power couple?” Ave ducked her head lower into her hoodie and tried to focus on wal