Fourteen years ago

~WOLFE THEODORE~

She had long, dark yellow blonde hair. I couldn't find the exact word for it, anyways. You could neither call it brown nor call it blonde- it had dark shades of brown along with raw sienna colored strands. It was a gorgeous color, which seemed to deceive your eyes when she stood in the sunlight, and the sunlight graced her soft hair. The locks of hair were neither curled nor too straight, you could tell apart each strand. It was the perfect blend of toasted caramel colored hair and deep, golden brown highlights, creating an intriguing shade. It gave off her beachy, Californian vibe.

I vaguely remember the day she shifted to L.A. from Santa Barbara. She was prolly one, that time, relatively smaller in age, but apparently, she took the same grade as us a few years later. I had just turned three. Her parents were decent, loving people; her father was a doctor. They shifted into the vacant house right next to ours. She was wearing a blue colored onesie with cat ears, and was holding a cupcake. However, instead of eating it, she tore it into bits and kept throwing them here and there.

Her cheeks were pink and big, and her skin was a beige shade with a vivid, warm undertone. She was no bigger than my favorite cushion; a tiny little being, but very delinquent. She waddled towards me, not quite steady on her feet, as my parents exchanged pleasantries with us. She looked up at me with a puzzled expression, holding on to the hem of my shirt, for support. I bent a bit so that she could look at me.

Good God, she was trouble.

She was trouble and mischief in a neat package.

Swiftly, she planted her palm onto my face, and the crumbs of the cupcake that remained were plastered on my face. I was baffled by her movements and agility, and it was then that her face broke out into a huge grin, highlighting her dimples, as a row of baby, white teeth showed. Her eyes were big and like the rain clouds, a mixture of various shades of gray.

She had grown into a teenager right before my eyes. And trust me, I hated her.

I hated her as much as she hated me. Though we were friends, we still were enemies. We would bicker and fight without a second glance at our surroundings, so God help me when it was the Dean's office, because I certainly didn't want to get suspended for swearing in front of her. I looked at her with resentment, as she swore her head off at one of the other girls in the team for making a blunder. The girl was practically shaking in her shoes, as Tissue Paper roared at her.

Angry Isa was practically hard to tolerate, and literally left many wetting their pants. She got angry quite easily; messing with her temper was strictly a no-no.

Which was why I loved messing with it.

Once set off, her anger was hard to cool. She would go off like a rocket and swear her head off, like she didn't have another care in the world. Her personality contrasted vividly with mine- I was hard to piss off. When pissed off, though, I was hard to please.

People liked me. They loved me. Who wouldn't?! No jokes, and all cockiness set apart, I admitted I was gorgeous, with dark hair and dark eyes, and tan color. I was the star quarterback they had in the school soccer team, the captain of the boys basketball team, straight A grades, and there was no exam I didn't top. The teachers loved me, because apparently, I could beat them. And okay, I was cool, like some kind of king that the school treasured.

That is where she entered the scene. She was equally challenging with her studies, all A grades, one of the most competitive students in our circle. She was good at sports- soccer, basketball and relay racing all the same. We were a class of students, specially selected because we were good at it. Everybody in the class knew their positions, but her. Nicolas knew he would always stand second or third. Everyone knew that the first position was reserved for just one guy, and that was me. It was hard to beat me.

I had two best friends, whom I could trust my life with- Nicolas and Stellan. We were tied together and came in a package- raw and sarcastic. They stayed in the same street as me, not too far. Nicolas was the one with a gurgling, deep voice, one you'd recognize even if all the people of the world scream together (it was a batch joke). Stellan was the kind of guy who'd humor you with blank faced emojis. We understood each other on a personal level.

The point was, even if the other three admired Isa, they still behaved like they hated her guts. It was because of sheer loyalty towards me. They didn't behave like they hated her, maybe they had fun playing with her temper. Achelois was extremely short tempered, and when her temper was ignited, even hell or heaven couldn't interrupt her. She was the cackling kind, always snapping at stuff or laughing.

Achelois's laughter was infectious. You'd want to smile at that expression, and maybe feel a change of heart if you hated her. But no, I HATED ACHELOIS. I hated it that she challenged me, but I loved it that she did. I hated it because she roasted me back when I roasted her, when no one else would dare. I hated her snarky, smart, and unaffected demeanor.

If Wildwood Schools had someone who wasn't extremely attracted to me, or either of us three for that fact, it would be her.

Her hate for us had grown from different little things, to the point where we teased her provocatively. She was the last person that you'd consider being with, even if it wouldn't be wrong to say that she was one of the most beddable and charismatic girls of the school. It was her temper, her snarky attitude, her comments, her smartness and intelligence that drove people away faster than you could say 'relationship'. But Good God, she couldn't be any happier.

"Isa, Isa," I walked over to her side, Nicolas following me close behind. I leaned against the goalpost and smirked at her, "-Don't grill her just because you can't be a good captain."

Her fierce eyes came to settle on me once the other girl had been just more than happy to squirm away from being the center of her annoyance. She came towards me, a feral look in her eyes. Goddamn, she looked eatable in her uniform. Her navy t-shirt hung loose on her, as if she could fit into the shirt more than thrice. Her pants were no better on her lanky and slim frame. Pale golden skin shone under the sunlight, and her eyes bore into mine with a raging ferocity- the kind I yearned to see.

"Right ahead, and fuck off from there, bitch," she gritted her teeth and retorted. I suppressed the urge to laugh at her cutthroat nature and shot back, "What, does constructive criticism not sit well with you? I think you could gain some weight to start playing well".

She raised her arm in motion to slap me, but like always, I was faster than her. Guess our first meeting had a lasting effect on me.

I grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to me. Immediately, she raised her knee to get me one good in the balls, but man, shit got old. It was her usual style- raise hand to slap, knee him in the balls. I grabbed her thigh with the other hand, smirking delightfully at her perplexed expression.

Out of the blue, her other arm shot out, and she flicked me in the neck. That was when we understood how awkward our position was, wrapped by each other. Man, the thought of being with her was comical, because I hated nothing more than her, and fuck, that girl was a ticking time bomb. As I let go of her arm because of the tickling that had started vaguely at the nape of my neck, she quickly untangled herself from my grip and her fingers wrapped themselves around my throat with incredible agility.

"Say what, Theodore?" she prompted sarcastically, squeezing my neck softly, but not enough to make me uncomfortable. I let out a small laugh, "They say opposites attract," I whispered in a sultry tone. Things on her face went from enraged to clueless. "I hope you meet someone who's good looking, intelligent, and cultured."

Her face snapped back to infuriated mode. "I'd like to confirm that I do not care, fucker." She withdrew her hands, but the moment she let her guard down, I grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her back. She didn't let out any sign of pain, and instead giggled. "It doesn't hurt, but I'm not used to people touching me. It's ticklish."

"Apparently, I can touch you just about everywhere to free you of your ticklish," I whispered, my mouth dangerously close to her ear, as her back was faintly pressed against my chest. She grunted in mock anger. "Make sure you have the tools to do that, dimwit."

She ran over the field, away from me, her long, toned and slim legs carrying her away swiftly. Her hair, which was tied at the top of her head swung to and fro, and the strands that had escaped the hair tie framed her face.

I hated Achelois Crimson.

"FUCK YOU, ISA!" I shouted from behind her. She raised her middle fingers into the air, extracting a laugh out of me. "THANK YOU, BUT NO THANKS!"

Heck yeah, I hated her.

________________________________________________________________________________

A/N:-

Sorry, lobhs. I was watching Naruto. Got carried away.

DONT YOU WISH ME "A THOUSAND YEARS OF DEATH". 🤣🤣🤣

Sakura-Chan is so annoying and cringey! Duh. Also, I've begun rereading 'A Court of Mist and Fury'. It's awesome. Honestly, Tamlin was good and shit in ACOTAR, but he's being an asshole in ACOMAF. TEAM RHYS ALL THE WAY!

QOTD- What's your favorite book and who's your favorite author?

Personally, I could never decide. There's a lot of options who bug me 24/7- Sarah J Maas, Penelope Sky, Willow Winters, Vi Keeland, LJ Shen, JK Rowling of course, Karen McManus- and so many others! I also love a lot of books- there are too many for me to keep a record of.

Also, thank you for reading and voting on my story, to everyone who's doing it. Your support is thoroughly appreciated. I hope y'all stay tuned. This chapter might seem as more of a filler, I KNOW THE SUMMARY SAYS SOMETHING ELSE! But I'm still trying to set the stage.

Also, listen to the song above. Ayden Calafiore is my favorite singer from the Voice Australia.

I lobh y'all.

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Your poor-lidle writah,
Disha✨🌝