Enemy

The beach house is louder than it has any right to be.

Half the team is in the pool. Someone is losing badly at cards. Music drifts through the open windows.

You manage to escape to the kitchen for exactly three minutes before a familiar voice appears behind you.

"Wow."

Jace leans against the counter, studying the sandwich in your hands.

"I knew Coach's daughter was competitive."

He shakes his head.

"But racing the rest of us to the food? That's a new low."

You roll your eyes.

"Go away."

"Can't."

His grin is immediate.

"Doctor's orders."

"What doctor?"

"The one concerned about your social life."

You turn back to what you're doing.

Jace reaches over your shoulder and steals a chip from the bowl beside you.

"You know what's funny?"

"No."

"You spend all year acting like you're better than me."

"I am better than you."

"There she is."

He points at you triumphantly.

"My favorite personality trait."

"You have favorites?"

"Sure."

Jace pops the chip into his mouth.

"That one. The look you get when you're trying not to argue with me."

"I'm not arguing with you."

"Exactly."

His smirk widens.

"You're losing the argument."