If perfection had a name, it would be Alex Pierce.
Alex is everything Ben Carter isn't
polite, intelligent, grounded. He's the guy who answers every question in AP Chemistry like he's auditioning for a genius grant. The guy who volunteers at the animal shelter and organizes beach cleanups on the weekends. He doesn't strut into school like he owns the place or rev an obnoxiously loud motorcycle in the parking lot. No, Alex rides a sensible bike. A bike.
And, most importantly, Alex Pierce hates Ben Carter.
It's poetic, really. The universe delivered me an actual knight in shining armor, complete with a grudge against my lifelong nemesis. It's like fate knew I needed a hero to balance out the chaos of Ben.
"Alex is so boring," Rachel groans during lunch, stabbing at her salad with a fork.
"He's not boring," I say, sitting up straighter. "He's sophisticated."
Brooke snorts. "He's a walking encyclopedia. I bet he alphabetizes his sock drawer."
"So what if he does? Organization is a sign of intelligence."
They exchange looks like I'm some lost cause, but I don't care. Alex is perfect. His dark blond hair is always neat, his shirts are always ironed, and his smile
God, his smile,is enough to make me forget my own name.
Not that he notices me. Why would he? Alex is at the top of every class, captain of the debate team, and on track to go to an Ivy League school. I'm… fine. Not failing, but not exactly standing out either. I'm mid-level at best.
Still, I let myself dream.
Sometimes, when the teacher's droning on in math, I'll imagine what it would be like if Alex finally looked my way. He'd walk up to me after class, his blue eyes bright with curiosity.
"Hey, I noticed you were really insightful during that lesson," he'd say. (It doesn't matter that I didn't talk during the lesson,it's my daydream, okay?)
We'd end up studying together, our hands brushing as we reach for the same pencil. And then, one day, he'd lean in, his voice soft and serious.
"I've always admired you," he'd say. "You're so much more than you realize."
I'd swoon. Obviously.
But instead of swooning, I'm here, listening to Rachel and Brooke argue about whether Ben Carter's jawline is sharper than a diamond cutter.
"Ben's hot, sure," Rachel says, swirling her iced coffee, "but Alex Pierce? Really, Maddie? He's so…"
"Smart?" I offer, already knowing where this is going.
"Dull," Brooke finishes.
They'll never understand. For one, they worship Ben Carter, which automatically disqualifies their opinions. And two, Alex Pierce is exactly what I need steady, intelligent, and everything Ben isn't.
It doesn't hurt that he and Ben have some weird feud going on. I don't know the details, but the way Alex rolls his eyes every time Ben walks into a room is enough to make me swoon.
"Maddie, you've got to aim higher," Rachel says, dragging me back to reality. "Like, Ben Carter higher."
"Pass," I mutter, shoving a chip in my mouth.
"Wait, do you hate Ben Carter?" Brooke asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Hate's a strong word," I say quickly.
Not quick enough.
Rachel's eyes narrow. "You're acting weird. Do you know him or something?"
My heart stutters, but I plaster on a neutral expression. "Why would I know Ben Carter?"
"Good point," Brooke says with a shrug. "You're too normal for him."
They go back to their conversation, and I exhale silently, glancing across the cafeteria. Ben is there, laughing loudly at something his friends said, completely oblivious to the fact that I exist.
I look a little further down the table and find Alex, quietly reading a book, the picture of calm perfection.
There's a moment of stillness as I watch him, my chest tightening with the weight of my stupid, impossible crush.
And just like that, the daydream pulls me under again.