My screaming works. The door is flung open to show a very annoyed Quinton. It's weird seeing him in a pair of gray sweats that barely cling to his hips and a black wifebeater that makes me wonder why the hell I ever fought with him. I've never seen him in such normal clothes that actually make him look like a fellow fifteen year-old of the male species. Who knew Quinton could be so normal?

Shaking my head, I tell myself not to stare at his muscles because… well, why would I be staring? I shouldn't be, that's just weird!

"What the hell do you want? And how do you know where my dorm is?" Quinton hisses. He isn't expecting it, so when I move forward into his room he stumbles back, allowing me access. Not even a second passes before he points a finger at the door. "Get the hell out."

"Come on, we're arch enemies, so of course I know where your dorm is," I reply, like it's common knowledge. It should be. He should know we're enemies.

"People don't have arch enemies."

"Yes they do."

Quinton rolls his eyes. As he's rubbing his temple, I swear I see a vein throbbing just above his eye. The boy asks, "What do you want?"

"Lets go play some basketball." I send him an innocent smile. Oh, if only he knew I planned on crushing him like a bug and reporting to everyone in school how he cried and begged for mercy. I doubt he'll cry, but I can dream. Let a man have his hopes.

Quinton stares at me quizzically. Oh no, has he caught on? He cannot be that smart. Sighing, he pushes past me to take a seat at his desk. I gasp. How could he just ignore me like that?

"Come on, get changed, lets go!" I order, kicking at the back of his desk chair after each word. Quinton spins around and grasps my ankle. I yelp when he pushes me to the floor.

"Why should I go play a game with you?" Quinton groans, sending me a glare as he does. His face clearly states how much he does not like me being in his room. I grin. It feels great to piss him off. I love it. Perhaps this is how I should spend my next two weeks. Making Quinton's life a living hell while no one is around to stop me! Oh, the temptation is real.

I push myself into a sitting position. I decide to skip past trying to persuade him. I know how to get him to come along. Leaning back onto my elbows, I do my best to mimic one of Quinton's cocky expressions. It must work because his eye twitches. "Why don't you want to? Scared I'll beat you?"

He snorts. "A toddler could shoot better than you."

"It's okay to admit that you suck at basketball."

"I don't."

"Then prove it." I know I've caught him before he even gets up to grab a set of clothes. My grin cannot be any bigger. I amaze even myself with my skills of manipulation. I must have gotten it from my mother.

The two of us are silent as we walk side by side to the gym, which is a good five minute walk away. Looking out of the corner of my eye I see Quinton's eyes flicker with that teen spirit of competition. So he really is just another teenage boy after all? I'll keep that in mind for future plans of embarrassment.

We make it to the gym. It's empty but unlocked. The keys for the balls are hanging on the metal doors as they always are. The two of us change before bringing them out and lowering one of the hoops.

"What are we playing to?" Quinton asks, winding his arms up. Of course he'd be the type of guy to stretch before playing a game for fun. What an uptight ass...

"First to 20 wins." I don't want the game to be too short. This is meant to get some of my energy out. Plus, who knows, Quinton might be somewhat decent...

"You're going to cramp," Quinton says, pointing to me, who has already started shooting while he is continuing to stretch.

I roll my eyes. “Thanks, Mom, I'll make sure to wash behind my ears really well too."

The demon huffs but doesn't stop from stretching until he feels he has warmed up enough. Finally. If he didn't finish soon I was going to start without him. I pass the demon the ball first, so I can see if he's actually any good.

The game begins.