Not My Type

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Teen Fiction

Charlotte Kingsley wants a quiet school year, but that becomes impossible the moment Tom Hale crashes back into her life. They argue in hallways, fight in chemistry class, push each other into fountains, and somehow keep ending up in each other's ar...

#burn #drama #enemies‑to‑lovers #fiction #love #romance #school #slow #teen #triangles

''What is your problem?''

Start from the beginning

by Hannalmasz

Tom: "I'm sitting here."

Tyla: "But—"

Tom: "I'm sitting here."

Charlotte hid her smile behind her cup.

Ryder whispered, "Bro shut her down twice."

Savannah whispered, "He's getting faster."

Tyla glared at Charlotte like she was the problem.

Charlotte blinked. "Okay."

Tyla stomped her foot and stormed off.

After eating, everyone stood up to leave.

Tom walked beside Charlotte.

"You going back to the dorms?" he asked.

Charlotte nodded. "Yeah."

Tom: "Text me later."

Charlotte: "Why."

Tom shrugged. "I'm bored."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Fine."

Tom smirked and walked off.

Savannah elbowed her. "He likes you."

Charlotte: "No he doesn't."

Ryder: "He SO does."

Charlotte: "Okay."

Savannah: "STOP SAYING OKAY."

Charlotte laughed.

Tyla sat at her desk, staring at Charlotte's phone like a predator waiting for prey.

Her lip gloss trap was ready.

Her plan was set.

All she needed now...

...was Charlotte to come back and unlock her phone.

And then?

Tyla would finally get the password.

And "Project Break Tom & Charlotte's Friendship" would begin.

Charlotte left the dorm for dinner, humming softly, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind her.

The moment the door clicked shut, Tyla's entire expression twisted.

Not jealous.

Not annoyed.

Furious.

Her thoughts were sharp and bitter.

She thinks she's so perfect. Everyone likes her. Tom likes her. I'll ruin it. I'll ruin everything.

She grabbed her notebook and flipped to the page titled:

PROJECT: BREAK TOM & CHARLOTTE'S FRIENDSHIP

Her handwriting grew angrier, messier, the glitter pen scratching the paper.

I WILL make Tom hate her. I WILL make Charlotte look awful. I WILL win.

She underlined WILL so hard the pen nearly tore the page.

She grabbed Charlotte's phone again, typed in the password she'd memorized — 4 1 1 7 — and opened Tom's chat.

Her fingers flew across the screen, typing a message dripping with venom:

"Stop texting me. You're annoying. I don't want to talk to you anymore."

She stared at it, smiling.

This will break him, she thought. This will break them both.