Page 41 of The Ruthless Rivalry

“Good morning, students!” Atlas greets us enthusiastically, clapping his hands. Another man steps up beside him. Coach Barkley, the rowing coach, looks as though he’s permanently upset, his forehead creased in deep scowl lines. He’s dressedin a black tracksuit with white stripes down the arms and legs, radiating no warmth whatsoever.

“You may be wondering why the rowing team has joined us today, and why our class is here with them,” Atlas says, his eyes glinting playfully at Barkley, who remains stoic with his arms crossed.

I quickly realize why Coach Barkley and Bishop seem to get along—they’re practically twins in temperament. “After muchdiscussion,” Atlas glances at Barkley, who answers with a grunt. “We’ve decided to combine a portion of our classes indefinitely. This will help foster better relationships between our peers. Isn’t that exciting, everyone?”

Why do I feel like this has something to do with my near-drowning in the first class?

Bishop’s face twists into an almost imperceptible scowl as he clenches his fists. Without a word, he turns on his heel, clearly ready to storm off.

Coach Barkley steps forward with surprising speed, his hand pressing at Bishop’s chest. “Not so fast, Ashbourne. If I’m stuck doing this, then so are you,” he says, his voice harsh and unwavering.

Bishop mutters something under his breath but doesn’t make another move. He glares at Barkley, looking like he’s ready to break him into a million pieces from sheer frustration.

Meanwhile, Atlas claps his hands again, his cheerful tone never faltering. “Alright! Now, let’s pair up. One member of the Oceanic Reflection class with one member of the rowing team. I want everyone to work together. Let’s make the most of this!”

Bishop scans the shoreline, his eyes settling on me with a look that could curdle milk. His features harden, and a hint of exasperation flickers in his eyes.

“Prescott. You’re with me,” he orders, his words clipped, a threat wrapped in command.

I give him a look that clearly saystry again. “Yeah, no.” Bishop wasn’t exactly at the top of my list—more like the bottom, buried under a mountain of better options. Especially not after the way he’d just tried to storm off. I might be newish to Altair, but I’d learned quickly when to avoid poking the lion in its cage.

Bishop’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t relent. “I’m not asking.”

“Yeah, and I’m still saying no.” I cross my arms, unimpressed. “Ever heard that word before?”

He stares at me, his gaze cold as ice, but I don’t flinch. “I don’t do ‘no,’” he growls in response.

I arch an eyebrow, unfazed. “Really? Because ‘no’ seems to be the only word I’m hearing right now.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

Bishop fixes me with a glare that could cut through steel. “You really want to test me right now?”

“No, I just don’t find your tantrums all that entertaining.”

Coach Barkley’s voice rings out, his permanent scowl deepening as he surveys the group. “This isn’t some kumbaya circle,” he barks. “Finish pairing up. Immediately.”

I look around, then yank at the first student’s arm I find—which just happens to be Reith’s. I loop my arm around his like I’m claiming prime real estate. “Found my partner,” I announce with a flirty wink in his direction.

Bishop notices, his gaze snapping to Reith, his posture rigid. “Reith. Hands off.”

It’s almost comical—I’mthe one who reached for him, not the other way around. But there’s no denying the edge in his voice, like he’s staking a claim. I glance at Reith, who looks utterly caught in the middle. He hesitates for a second, eyes flicking between us before he slowly shrugs me off.

“Bishop, you don’t need to—” he starts, but Bishop cuts him off, grinding out the words.

“It wasn’t a question.”

I stare at my shadow for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on. Why is he acting like this? He’s made it clear from day one that he doesn’t like me, and he’s been trying to get me to leave since we met. So what’s this sudden push for control?

Was this still about that note he intercepted from Ophelia earlier? Or was this something more…

I don’t get the chance to think much more on it before Atlas steps in, clapping his hands to break the tension. “Alright, alright, students. We’ll be starting shortly. Please, head over here once you’ve chosen a partner.”

I’m still processing Bishop’s strange behavior as I give Reith a half-apologetic look and pull him back to my side, walking us over to where Atlas instructed.

Bishop says nothing, but his silence is louder than any words.

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