Falling For My Nemesis Read online

  Falling For My Nemesis

  A Novel

  Tia Souders

  FALLING FOR MY NEMESIS

  by Tia Souders

  www.tiasouders.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  FALLING FOR MY NEMESIS

  Copyright © 2018 THERESA SOUDERS

  Manufactured in the United States if America

  First Edition June 2019

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  WELCOME

  Welcome to the town of Sweet Water, NC.

  1 Town. 1 School. 12 Sweet Romances.

  Misunderstanding the Billionaire’s Heir

  By Anne-Marie Meyer

  Crushing on My Brothers’ Best Friend

  By Julia Keanini

  Kissing the Boy Next Door

  By Judy Corry

  Flirting With the Bad Boy

  By Michelle Pennington

  Chemistry of a Kiss

  By Kimberly Krey

  Falling For My Nemesis

  By Tia Souders

  Falling For My Best Friend

  By Victorine E. Lieske

  Author’s Note:

  Falling For My Nemesis is a full-length standalone novel in the collaborative Sweet Water High Series. At the end, I’ve included an excerpt from the next book in the series Falling For My Best Friend by Victorine E. Lieske.

  Falling For My Nemesis concludes around 95% on your device.

  Happy Reading!

  Tia Souders

  CHAPTER ONE

  My life was a wreck, and this was my current state of chaos.

  I glanced around the gymnasium at my fellow classmates as I pulled my strawberry-blonde hair up into a messy bun. It was hard to be invested in any class when it felt like your life was crumbling around your feet. As if this period weren’t useless enough, there was a sub today, which meant gym was pretty much a free-for-all. Mr. Gorby, a frequent sub at Sweet Water, was notorious for maintaining a consistent lack of control in the classroom.

  The boys were currently playing a rather barbaric game of basketball—grunting and shoving, checking other guys into the ground. Meanwhile, a smattering of girls did their hair on the bleachers while the rest of us walked laps around the gym, pretending to “exercise” when really most of us were just gossiping and ogling the boys on the skins team. Myself included.

  And don’t forget to add the pleasurable bouquet emanating from the cafeteria across the hall to the ambiance. I mean, who doesn’t like the smell of sweat and hot dogs? Am I right?

  Still, that didn’t deter me from making my assessment as I strolled beside Harper and she chattered on about the Snowflake Ball, to which I had yet to snag a date.

  I allowed my gaze to drift over the boys—my prospects—mentally checking off the roster in my head. Lucas Addington—taken. (Besides, I preferred jocks.) Ky Andrews—double taken. Wes Schultz. . .my gaze took an extra second to ponder his physique. He had the dark hair blue-eyed thing going for him, which I loved, but Lauren Carmichael snatched him up earlier in the year when they ended their family feud. Dang.

  Who else. . .? My gaze drifted right over Jett. Harper’s presence beside me served as a reminder that he, too, was unavailable. That left…

  I made a final round with my gaze and paused when my eyes zeroed in on Carson Brooks, then I groaned. Not him. Anyone but him.

  “Mia, hello?” Harper snapped her fingers in front of my face. “I asked you a question.”

  “Oh,” I tore my gaze away from Carson, grateful for the distraction. The last thing I wanted was for him to catch me staring. He might think I liked the view, which I most certainly did not. “What’d you ask me?”

  “Still no date yet, to the Snowflake Ball?” Harper asked, blinking down at me.

  “Nope. But I have more important things to worry about, like the fact that I have yet to hear back about early admissions at any of the schools I applied to.” Or the fact that my parents were on the verge of divorce. My family was falling apart, and I was helpless to stop it—just another cherry on top of the rapidly melting sundae that was my life.

  Harper scrunched her nose and tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear. “Early admissions? I didn’t realize you applied for any of those.”

  I grunted. Harper was great, but right now, I really needed my best friend, Ethan. He’d understand that when I said I’m worried about college admissions, what I really meant was I needed some good news—something, anything to lift the mood at home, which was currently set to epic levels of despair. My parents were fighting on the daily, turning what started as little spats into brutal screaming matches, and if I could just get some news worth celebrating, maybe I could bring us together again. Maybe I could stop the war. Worst-case scenario, an acceptance letter meant I had an escape come fall.

  The fight from this morning flashed in my head. The one I overheard on my way out the door. My mother had gone on one of her shopping sprees again, and Dad was not happy about it. Though I had no idea why. My family had plenty of money. Maybe we weren’t rich like the Schultzes or the Carmichaels, but we did well. Who cared if Mom blew a few hundred on crap she didn’t need? At least she wasn’t drooling over her new assistant at work. Or, at least that’s what Mom accused him of the other night during one of our fun-filled family dinners.

  “Yeah. They start letting people know this month,” I said, returning to the present.

  Harper’s brow furrowed. “Where’d you apply again?”

  “A couple different places, but Duke is my first pick.”

  “Nice. Close enough to home but far enough away you have an excuse to stay on campus.”

  Yeah. Maybe two hours, too close.

  I snorted. “Tell that to Ethan. He’d rather I just go to the community college here.”

  “Well, you two have been attached at the hip since the Brooks moved here in grade school.”

  My lips quirked. “True.”

  “So, if you don’t have a date to the Snowflake Ball, why don’t you and Ethan go together?”

  I wish. “He’s already taking someone.”

  Out of all my friends, I was the only loser without a date. How fun. Normally, Ethan was my back-up, but not this time, which kind of stunk because friends were the best dates at dances, anyway. Not that I had much to compare to. I hadn’t dated anyone since my sophomore year when Greg Harlow dumped me because he said I was a prude, the jerk. It wasn’t my fault I have a moral compass and he was disgusting.

  Since then, I forgot all about finding a love life. I’d been too busy trying to please my parents, be the perfect daughter, the ideal student to so much as flirt with another boy. I was barely hanging onto my family as it was. I was the glue—neutral ground. I may as well call myself Switzerland. And if I could just hang in there a few more months, then I’d be off to school, and if they fell apart, at least I could say I tried. At least I wouldn’t have a front-row seat.

  I sighed as I looked at Harper’s sorrowful expression, and she said, “You could always just go stag?”

  I groaned. Yeah, I could. If I wanted to
commit social suicide.

  A burst of laughter from center-court stole my attention. I glanced over to see Carson cackling with Olivia, a basketball casually hooked under his arm, looking as carefree as ever.

  I rolled my eyes and turned back to Harper. Typical. Of course he would be fawning all over someone like her. He was probably going to the dance with either her or Tasha, one of Sweet Water’s MG’s. They might be popular and beautiful, but they earned their nickname as the school’s Mean Girls for a reason. I couldn’t imagine if I showed up dateless. No doubt Carson would relish the opportunity to rub my solo-status in my face.

  I could picture it now, those crystal blue eyes glittering menacingly under the disco ball in the gym, his hair dark and rumpled. Couldn’t get a date, Shorty? he’d say, and then I’d punch him.

  Ugh. Why was I even thinking about him?

  I crossed my arms over my chest and mustered a smile. “No worries. I’m sure I’ll—”

  My words cut off at the sound of someone yelling, “Heads up!”

  But it was too late. I wasn’t fast enough. I was too wrapped up in my own personal crisis to react before the basketball smashed into my face—wham!

  I doubled over, my hands flying to where the ball had torpedoed into my eye socket. The pain was sharp—blinding. It took my breath away. Several seconds ticked by before I managed to straighten and inhale, blinking a few times, eyes watering as I searched my surroundings with my good eye like a pirate.

  My gaze narrowed, knife-sharp, zeroing in on my assailant. None other than Carson Brooks stood right in my line of vision, a smirk plastered across his perfectly symmetrical pretty-boy face.

  I dropped my hand from my throbbing eye and Harper gasped beside me, covering her mouth, mumbling a muffled, “Oh my gosh.”

  I gave her a cursory glance—she wasn’t helping—before I returned my focus back to the court where Carson began to laugh. Not a chuckle, but a bent over at the waist, full on belly roll.

  And I snapped.

  My hands balled at my side, while I stormed the eight feet separating us to his spot on the court, my eyes blazing, fists at the ready. I was a woman possessed as I closed the gap. All of my problems culminated in the single moment he lobbed the basketball into my face, and I was sure it was him. I had never been more certain of anything in my life. It was always him prodding me, poking me, pricking his needle-sharp jabs under my skin.

  My face throbbed where he struck me with the ball, and as I neared, he laughed even harder. It took him but a minute to absorb the fury oozing from my pores, and his laughter faded, morphing into his signature smirk.

  I didn’t think. I could only react, and before I knew what I was doing, before common sense could prevail, my slender fingers wrapped around his puny neck.

  ◆◆◆

  A whistle blew behind me, and far too soon, Mr. Gorby yanked me off of him. “That is enough. Enough!” he yelled. He stood in between us, eyeing me like I was deranged. And maybe I was, because when Carson chuckled again, I made to lunge at him once more.

  Mr. Gorby pushed my shoulders back, no longer a teacher but a bouncer in a club, holding back a crazed patron. Behind me, I heard someone—I think it might have been Tasha—mutter, “she’s crazy,” which was fantastic, really. All I needed to top this crap-show of a day was to have the entire school talking about how I—Mia Randalls—had officially lost my marbles.

  I pulled in a shaky breath and yanked on the hem of my blouse, smoothing it with the palm of my hand and lifting my chin, ever the lady, the model student. But as sanity slowly trickled in, I felt my cheeks heat as I realized the gravity of what I had done.

  I had, literally, tried to choke Carson. I mean, sure, he deserved it, but strangling a classmate wasn’t exactly something I wanted on my school record, was it?

  I mustered as much dignity as I could, avoiding Carson’s gaze as Mr. Gorby glared at me. “To the Principal’s Office. Now.”

  I heard Carson snicker before the sub turned in his direction and pointed. “Both of you.”

  Turning, I shot Carson a smug look before the teacher could notice.

  “What? Why me?” Carson waved a hand toward me. “She’s the one that tried to strangle me.”

  “Oh, and her eye just swelled up like that on its own?”

  My mouth twisted, satisfied. See, you had it coming, my face said.

  “Fine,” Carson muttered.

  “Um. Do they maybe need a chaperone?” Harper asked from behind me, sounding a bit scared.

  “They’ll make it there together just fine. Like civilized people. Am I right?” the substitute asked, though it was more a demand than a question.

  I nodded, at least having the decency to look contrite, but when I glimpsed Carson, he smiled like this was all some big joke.

  The sub should’ve let me choke him.

  I glared daggers at him as he came up beside me.

  “Shorty?” he said, offering his arm to me.

  I grimaced, ignoring his arm and the heinous nickname and spun around, heading for the gym doors, putting as much distance between us as possible.

  Once I stepped out into the hall, the smack of his tennis shoes over the linoleum soon followed as he hurried to catch up. When he appeared by my side, instead of walking next to me, he pulled ahead.

  I narrowed my eyes on his back. He was so tall and his shoulders so broad, I could hardly see past them.

  I pumped my arms, moving my feet faster until I was speed-walking past, Carson at my rear. Ha!

  “What’s the hurry, Randalls?” Carson said behind me.

  I glanced back, and he seized the opportunity to step in front of me again, but his legs were so long he didn’t even look like he was trying. His stride was effortless, natural.

  It annoyed me.

  I huffed and curled my hands into fists at my side. Who cares if he walks in front of you? There is no hurry. You do NOT need to get there first. This isn’t about winning, Mia.

  I folded my arms over my chest, pushing the bubbling anger aside, trying to focus on something other than Carson’s obnoxious swagger.

  Oh, who was I kidding?

  I took off in a jog, shamelessly smiling at him as I flew past, sending him to my rear where he belonged. Suddenly, our trek to the gallows became a race. When he pulled ahead, I did whatever necessary to beat him. My lungs screamed, but my body vibrated with triumph. I panted as we rounded the corner when Carson called out, “Hey, that’s okay. I like the view better from back here anyway.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks, my feet turning to cement as my head whipped back to see his eyes on my butt. “Abso-lutely not,” I said.

  “What?” He shrugged. “I am a guy, after all, and you actually have a nice—”

  “Finish that sentence and you’re a dead man,” I said, poking him in the ribs as he drew near.

  He chuckled and caught my finger in his warm grip.

  A zing of electricity shot through my hand and I yanked it away, shaking it out. Even his touch was weaponized.

  “Sorry about your eye,” he murmured, his gaze drifting over my face.

  “Yeah, you look really sorry.”

  He raised his hands in surrender, but one corner of his mouth tipped up in a crooked smile. “It was an accident, I swear.”

  I pursed my lips. The laughter in his voice said otherwise.

  Right, an accident, I wanted to say. Like the time he stuck his foot out and tripped me on the way to Ethan’s room. I nearly tumbled down the stairs. Or all of the times between classes where he accidentally mowed me down in the hall. Or the way he spilled his drink all over me at lunch just last week.

  “It’s amazing how a ball accidentally hits me square in the face at lightning speed.”

  Carson crossed his heart with his finger and held it out.

  I rolled my eyes. “Regardless, because of you and your little accident, we’re headed to Mrs. Parks’ office, so thanks for that.”

  “Actually, I’m pret
ty sure that was more on account of you trying to strangle me.”

  My eyes flickered from his face to his neck, which was slightly mottled. Good. He deserved to have red splotches. My eye felt like it had been attacked by a swarm of bees. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about assessing the damage, but I wouldn’t give Carson the satisfaction of stopping in the bathroom to take a look.

  “I wouldn’t have wrapped my hands around your neck had you not slammed a basketball in my eye socket.”

  Carson grinned. “Hey, you know basketball isn’t my sport.”

  I grunted. Everyone knew basketball wasn’t his sport. He was the king of Sweet Water’s swim team.

  “Nice excuse,” I said, then began walking again as he hurried to catch up. “You better hope this doesn’t get us detention.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his shrug. “It’s just detention.”

  “Just detention? You don’t even care that we’re in trouble, do you?”

  “Won’t be the first time. I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

  “Well, isn’t that a winning attitude. But this is the first time for me, actually. And it will be the last.”

  He scowled. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot who I was talking to. Can’t have anything marring little Miss Perfect’s reputation.”

  We neared the principal’s office, so I paused. “I’m sorry. Some of us have to actually study, get good grades, and have good behavior if we want to succeed. Not all of us can get a free ride just because we know how to swim. Some of us don’t have things overlooked simply because we’re athletic.”

  It was an understatement. Carson was a pretty decent cross-country track runner, but he was unrivaled in the water. The boy was born with gills.