Not My Type

''Why is he always in my way''

Charlotte leaned against the wall. "He was my middle school crush."

Tom nodded slowly. "Yeah. I figured."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "How."

"You turned pink when he said hi."

Charlotte shoved him lightly. "Shut up."

Tom smirked. "It's cute."

Charlotte froze. "What."

Tom blinked. "I said it's... uh... interesting."

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. "That's not what you said."

Tom looked away. "Whatever."

She crossed her arms. "Fine. Who did YOU like."

Tom sighed. "I told you already."

"No, I mean recently."

Tom hesitated.

Just a second too long.

Charlotte noticed.

He cleared his throat. "No one."

Charlotte smirked. "Liar."

Tom glared. "I'm not lying."

"You hesitated."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No."

"Yes."

They kept bickering, but it wasn't sharp this time.

It was soft.

Warm.

Almost... fun.

Charlotte finally said, "You know... today wasn't that bad."

Tom shrugged. "It was fine."

Charlotte smiled. "We didn't kill each other."

"Yet."

She laughed.

Tom looked at her.

Really looked.

And for a second, he forgot to be annoyed.

Then the dorm bell rang, echoing through the hallway.

Charlotte pushed off the wall. "See you tomorrow, partner."

Tom groaned. "Don't call me that."

Charlotte smirked. "Okay... partner."

She walked away, ponytail bouncing, skirt swaying.

Tom watched her go.

And he hated how much he didn't hate it.

By the time dinner rolled around, Charlotte had changed into something actually cute.

A black short mini dress. Simple. Clean. Dangerously flattering.

Her messy ponytail from earlier was now a loose, soft one. A few strands framed her face perfectly.

Lily walked beside her in a red one‑piece dress that made her look like she stepped out of a magazine.

"Okay," Charlotte said, adjusting her dress. "If I flash anyone by accident, you're responsible."

Lily laughed. "You look amazing. Calm down."

They walked into the dining hall — warm lights, chatter everywhere, the smell of pasta and garlic bread filling the air.