Aria's POV
The teacher walked into the classroom with her usual calm but sharp expression, holding a thick textbook in one hand and a stack of papers in the other.
"Good morning, class," she said, placing the materials on her desk. "Hope you didn't forget everything over the holidays."
The class murmured greetings, most of them still half-asleep. Except me, of course. I had already reviewed the syllabus yesterday — twice.
"Let's do a quick revision," she said, looking around. "Aria, can you tell me the definition of cellular respiration?"
"Sure," I replied, sitting up straighter. "Cellular respiration is the process by which cells break down glucose molecules to produce energy in the form of ATP. It involves glycolysis, the Krebs cycle, and the electron transport chain."
The teacher smiled. "Perfect. And can you name the three stages?"
I listed them without missing a beat. Zoe nudged my arm with a proud smile. I gave her a tiny nod, trying to hide my smirk.
Everything was going perfectly — until I turned my head to the left.
There he was.
Ethan Walker.
Leaning back in his chair, one hand holding up his head lazily, eyes barely open, looking like he was moments away from snoring.
Snoring. During a biology class.
I blinked, then frowned.
Was he… actually sleeping?
The teacher didn't seem to care. No one cared. Like it was completely normal that the top-ranked student in our class was mentally on vacation while the rest of us worked our brains off.
My fingers tightened around my pen.
This guy. This guy—he never answered questions, never paid attention, and yet—
He always came first.
Every. Single. Term.
And me? Second. Always second.
What was I doing wrong?
He didn't even try. Did he bribe the gods of intelligence in a past life or something?
"Ethan," the teacher called suddenly.
I smirked.
Finally.
His eyes opened halfway. "Hmm?"
"What's the main product of anaerobic respiration in humans?" she asked.
He stretched slightly and answered without hesitation, "Lactic acid."
The teacher nodded. "Correct."
He gave a small yawn. "Can I go back to sleep now?"
The class chuckled. I stared at him in pure disbelief.
How? Just how?
This wasn't fair. I worked. I studied. I prepared. He… existed.
I didn't care what it took — I was going to beat him this term.
Even if it killed me.
---
Ethan's POV
If there's one thing I've learned in this school, it's this:
You don't need to impress anyone. Especially not a know-it-all named Aria Sullivan.
I leaned back in my chair, eyes half-closed, listening to the same recycled lecture on cellular respiration. Heard it. Memorized it. Mastered it.
Ten minutes in and she was already trying to win Teacher's Favorite of the Day.
I smirked inwardly when I heard her go on about the Krebs cycle like she wrote the textbook. Don't get me wrong — she's smart. Sharp, even. But she tries too hard.
She always does.
And that's the thing about Aria. She hates not being number one. Hates that I'm always a step ahead… even when I don't act like it.
I cracked one eye open just in time to catch her glaring at me like I'd personally offended science.
She doesn't get it. I don't sleep in class because I don't care. I sleep because I already know what they're teaching. School is just something to pass time until I graduate and take over the empire. Both sides of it.
The business world… and the world nobody knows I belong to.
Except my father.
And one day, me.
"Ethan," the teacher called. I blinked once, not even lifting my head.
"Hmm?"
"What's the main product of anaerobic respiration in humans?"
"Lactic acid," I said flatly.
"Correct."
Of course it is.
I heard a scoff. Definitely her.
I didn't even need to look. I could feel her frustration burning holes into the side of my face.
She hated that I didn't try. And I hated that she needed to try so hard to prove something.
We've been rivals since sixth grade — and she still doesn't get it.
This isn't just school.
It's a game.
And I always play to win.