Sara didn't sleep well that night. Not because of homework, not because of early morning classes—no, it was because of him. Leo Carmichael.
She had replayed the collision in the hallway at least a dozen times, each time imagining a slightly better comeback than the one she'd actually managed.
"Could you watch where you're—"
"I am watching!"
Ugh. Why did he have to smirk like that?
By the time Sara arrived at school the next morning, she had perfected her "completely indifferent" face, the one that screamed I'm untouchable, don't even try me. It didn't work. Not even close.
Leo Carmichael was already at his locker, leaning casually against it, hair messy, eyes scanning the hall like he owned the place. And, of course, he looked up the moment she rounded the corner.
He smirked.
Sara froze for a split second, then scowled. "Morning, Carmichael," she said, her voice flat.
"Morning, sweetheart," he replied, not even a trace of guilt for yesterday's chaos. Just that smirk again. That smirk that made her blood boil.
She rolled her eyes and walked past him, determined to ignore him entirely. That lasted about three steps.
"Hey! Watch where you're—"
Sara spun around, arms crossed, her perfectly calculated indifferent expression failing spectacularly. "Really? We're doing this again?"
Leo raised an eyebrow. "Doing what? Talking? Flirting? Trying to kill each other with our eyes? Pick your poison."
Sara felt her stomach twist. That was exactly what made him so infuriating. Confident. Smart. Infuriating.
"Don't push it," she said, her voice low. "I have a strict no-bad-boy policy. You're… way past the line."
Leo laughed. A low, teasing sound that echoed down the hallway and somehow made her want to cover her ears. "Strict, huh? Good to know. I like a challenge."
By now, a few classmates had slowed down, glancing at them with curiosity. The hallways of Eastwood High were notorious for gossip, and Sara and Leo were fast becoming headline material.
"You're impossible," she muttered, shoving past him again.
"Impossible is my middle name," he said, stepping just slightly closer, blocking her path. "Well… not officially. But it should be."
Sara took a deep breath, trying to summon the patience of a saint. Instead, she accidentally stepped on her shoelace and stumbled. Leo caught her arm instinctively.
"Careful," he said. His smirk softened—just a fraction—but it was enough to make her heart skip.
"I—thanks," she muttered, jerking her arm away.
"Don't mention it," he replied, voice teasing again. "For now."
Sara wanted to tell him to stop with the smirks, the teasing, the everything. But words failed her, as they always did around him.
---
By second period, Sara was still fuming, though she wouldn't admit it. She sat at her desk, trying to concentrate on calculus, but every glance toward the window seemed to land on Leo, laughing with his friends, tossing a paper ball into the trash from across the room.
Then came the announcement.
"Attention students," the principal's voice boomed over the intercom. "Detention lists have been posted. Check the board."
Sara's stomach sank. She had never been in detention in her life—not once. Her grades, behavior, and careful planning had kept her spotless.
She glanced at the board.
And there it was.
Sara Anderson — Friday 3:00 pm — Room 207
Her eyes moved.
Leo Carmichael — Friday 3:00 pm — Room 207
Her heart thudded. She wanted to scream. Or cry. Or punch someone.
---
Friday came faster than she expected. The hallway outside Room 207 smelled faintly of old books and cleaning solution. Sara arrived a little early, wanting to stake her claim to the seat farthest from Leo.
Of course, he arrived exactly on time, leaning against the doorframe with that same smirk, hair falling perfectly over his forehead, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder.
"Didn't think you'd show up early, sweetheart," he said.
"I'm not early," she shot back, ignoring the small flutter in her chest. "I'm on time. And technically, you're late if you count the extra three seconds it took you to look this ridiculous."
Leo raised an eyebrow. "Ouch. You're ruthless."
Sara plopped down in the seat opposite him, setting her books in a neat pile. Leo, predictably, leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out just enough to take up the aisle, arms crossed.
For a few minutes, they sat in tense silence, the kind of quiet that screamed We're enemies, but something's happening here.
Finally, Sara couldn't take it. "So… why are we even stuck in detention together?"
Leo shrugged. "Maybe the universe thinks we need each other. Or maybe the principal just hates me—and you, apparently."
Sara tilted her head. "I can assure you, I'm a model student. You're the problem."
"Model student," he repeated, smirking. "I'll make a mental note. And what am I then? The charming rebel who ruins everything?"
"You're exactly that," she said firmly.
Leo leaned closer, just enough that she could feel the heat from his shoulder. "And yet… here we are. Together. You might just survive the hour with me."
Sara's heart pounded. She tried to focus on her notebook, scribbling equations furiously, but Leo's gaze was impossible to ignore.
At one point, a pencil rolled off her desk. As she bent to pick it up, Leo reached for it first, their hands brushing.
"Careful," he said softly, not teasing this time.
"I can handle it," she muttered, heat rising in her cheeks.
"You sure about that?"
By the end of detention, Sara had learned three things:
1. Leo Carmichael was infuriating.
2. He could be unexpectedly kind.
3. She was starting to enjoy the battle far more than she should.
As she walked home that day, dragging her backpack behind her, she couldn't stop thinking about the hour spent sitting across from him.
And that was the worst part.
Because now, she knew: Friday wasn't just another day. It was the start of something she couldn't quite explain.
Something that might just change everything.