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ONE

The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you. ~Markus Zusak (The Book Thief)

"I guess this is it," Molly said. We came to a stop near her mother's car outside The Earl Hotel. "I'm going to miss you so much, Eve."

"I'll miss you, too." I said, hugging her. I didn't know how I was going to survive without my best friend for a month. Well, that was if I didn't get eliminated in the first or second week.

Twenty young writers from different Commonwealth countries had been selected for a resident competition  and I had a feeling the nineteen were all better than me. How I'd managed to get accepted, I did not know. It was probably just luck, which had avoided my life until this year.

"Eve," she put her arms around me. "I want you to promise me something."

I pulled back, guessing what she was about to say. "I hope you're not about to start talking about love, again."

"Promise me that you'll get one of those intelligent writers to fall for you."

I had been single for a very long time and Molly was constantly trying to make me get back into the dating game.

"Molly," I chuckled, shaking my head. "You know I'm not interested in that right now. The only reason I signed up for this competition is to improve on my work and get it out there. If I'm lucky enough, I'll be among the winners."

"If you get love, nothing else will matter. I know this is so important for you but you need love, my friend. How can you write good stories if you're not in love?"

"I'm in love with books and I have a wild enough imagination. I guess that's enough."

"Can't agree. Go back in there and fall in love. You need it."

She opened the car door and got in. "Love you, Evie."

"I love you too, Molly. Take care of yourself."

Smiling, I watched as she drove away.

"So you're in love with books, huh?" A voice said, startling me. I turned to see a young man watching me with an amused grin. He was wearing blue skinny jeans ripped at the knees with a grey shirt. I could clearly see his well defined but lean muscles. He was very handsome with smooth tanned skin, a straight nose, dark piercing eyes and extremely kissable lips. He took a few steps towards me.

"I love books a lot," I said, smiling a little. "Do you?"

"I can see that. You seem to fit into the I-don't-care artist stereotype. I bet you claim to be so in love with your work and don't care about appearance."

My lips parted. I scanned my simple flowered dress and black flats. I caught sight of the ends of my badly dyed hair. My cousin Sharon had convinced me to try a do-it-yourself hair dye. It had gone really bad and I'd tried to wash it off but it didn't go well. Now I had spotty maroon in my black shoulder length hair. Molly and Sharon had said it was quite alright so I didn't mind it. Besides, I didn't have time to go to the salon after the mess up. I was planning to wash it off later.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Your hair looks horrible."

"I like it and I don't care who doesn't," I said, resuming my walk to the hotel. The truth was I hated it but this stranger had no right to comment on it.

"Exactly," he laughed.

"You're a jerk," I stopped walking. "Why do you have to be so judgemental? Why don't you just shut up, you moron? Mind your business."

He chuckled. Why are handsome boys always jerks? "See you around."

I went back to my room, trying to convince myself that I didn't care about some stranger's opinion. I hated when people concluded things about me without having enough information. The biggest problem was that he was extremely hot and it'd have been nice if he gave a compliment. Who am I kidding? I didn't deserve any. I was already uncomfortable with the hair and now it was going to be hard to ignore it. I looked at the bed near mine and wondered who my roommate was.

I tied my hair up and looked at the time table I'd been mailed by the organisers of Resident writing competition. We were to assemble in the Eastern Garden at six o'clock. Since it was already five thirty, I decided to do my yoga routine to do away with the anxiety I was feeling. I couldn't let my anxiety issues get the best of me after getting this far.

I had applied for Earl's Resident Writing Competition for Young Writers to improve on my writing and also my life. I thought that being with other writers for a month would help me overcome my anxiety and so I had to make the most of it.

The garden was a small quadrangle with only two small trees surrounded by a green hedge. There were about twenty people; some in groups, others on their own. Some of them were seated on the grass.

"Hey," I said to a girl who was playing idly with her hair extensions. She was seated at the farthest end alone. She was wearing very dark eye makeup and had a resting bitch face. I don't know why I decided to talk to her of all people.

"Hi," she said, showing no interest in conversation.

I turned away and saw three people entering the garden. One of them was the boy I'd met at the parking lot. With him was a tall girl with long dreadlocks and a boy with a dark beard.

"Hi everyone," the girl began. "My name is Lynda and I'm so excited to meet you all. I come from Kenya. I'll be in charge of your welfare. I'll let my colleagues introduce themselves before giving you instructions for the evening."

"I'm Jamie," the man with a beard said. "From London. It's a pleasure to meet you all. I'm a creative writing teacher and I'll be working with some of you."

"My name is Nico," he said. I could've sworn he was looking directly at me. "I'm one of the judges. Some people say I'm very judgemental but I'm just good at what I do."

"Thank you," Lynda said to her companions. "So, as we all know we're here for five weeks and five people will be eliminated each week. Before everything, we need to know each other. Let's spread into a circle."

We did as she said and somehow Nico ended up right beside me. Not sure if it was coincidental or he just wanted to mock me.

"I have a ball that I intend to pass around," Lynda said. "Whoever gets the ball tells us their name and passes it to someone else. Are you ready?"

"Yes," a lot of people chorused. I was quite uncomfortable with being so close to Nico so I kept quiet. I could feel his stare on me.

Lynda threw the ball to a girl who looked like she was of Indian descent.

"I'm Shabana," she said, smiling. She looked at me and threw the ball which I missed. Nico laughed as I went to retrieve it from the hedge where it'd landed.

"Eve," I said, nervously looking around for someone to give the ball to. I saw the girl who'd not wanted to talk to me earlier. For some reason, I wanted to infuriate her.

She glared at me after catching the ball. "Keri."

"Would it be judgemental if I said she doesn't like you?" Nico asked.

I wanted to tell him to mind his business but decided against it. Constantly annoying one of the judges isn't the best way to win any competition, regardless of how much talent one has. I was not even sure if I had any talent.

"No," I said with a sarcastic smile.

A/N: Please don't forget to vote. Also, any feedback is welcome.

What do you think about Nico?