Isaac Matthews was my sworn enemy.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

He was arrogant, obnoxious, impossible, and somehow always exactly where I didn’t want him to be. Girls practically tripped over themselves for his attention, but I couldn’t understand the appeal. To me, Isaac was just the irritating idiot who had made my life miserable since middle school.

He called me “Princess” purely because he knew I hated it. He’d steal my stuff, invade my personal space, make annoying little comments under his breath, and wear that infuriatingly smug grin whenever he knew he’d gotten under my skin.

And I always took the bait.

Our feud started in middle school, when Isaac publicly exposed my crush on Chris Fuller in front of the entire school. I’d wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

He thought it was hilarious.

I never forgave him.

Years later, nothing had changed.

It was the last month of junior year, and somehow, Isaac Matthews and I were still at war.

Every hallway argument. Every sarcastic remark. Every deliberate attempt to annoy the other.

Neither of us was willing to back down.

Because when it came to Isaac Matthews, I had one rule:

I hated him.

And I intended to keep it that way.