Manipulating Grades, Stealing Hearts novel Chapter 3

Our distant deskmate relationship continued.

Until the academic competition arrived.

On the way back to class after submitting the registration form, Wesley spoke with some pride.

"Sloane, you're pretty smart. But competitions aren't just about talent; experience matters too. I'll definitely beat you this time!"

The resources in my small county town weren't as strong, so I hadn't encountered many competitions before.

This time, he'd made a valid point.

However, when it came to academics, I was just as proud and would never easily admit defeat.

I smiled calmly. "Since you're so confident, how about a bet? The loser grants one request to the winner—nothing too extreme, of course."

Doubt crossed Wesley's proud face.

The opponent couldn't be underestimated; he sensed a trap.

I drawled teasingly, "Tsk, Tsk, I didn't expect you to be so afraid of losing, Wesley."

Heard that, Wesley immediately exploded.

"Let's bet then."

He said through gritted teeth, "Sloane Winters, you're done for."

What a coincidence—it seemed he couldn't stand me either.

Later, when the competition results came out, both Wesley and I won gold medals.

However, unfortunately for him, my score was just slightly higher than Wesley's.

He was right; experience was important.

If I'd had his extensive experience, I would have outscored him by even more.

So despite winning a gold medal, Wesley looked gloomy.

He couldn't bear it for even a day and wanted to fulfill his end of the bet quickly so he could forget the humiliation.

"What do you want me to do? Hurry up."

I pretended not to understand. "What do you mean?"

"Oh right, our bet."

"But why would you be the one granting my request?"

It was almost lunchtime, and the tree-lined path was nearly empty.

Wesley remained silent for a moment, then suddenly gave up.

He shouted, "Because I lost! I lost! Okay?!"

Whenever they did, Wesley would look at them like they were idiots.

My views aligned with Wesley on this.

So my request was purely to mess with him.

As expected, Wesley turned completely red.

Afraid of pushing him too far, I ultimately let him off the hook.

"If you really don't want to, then forget it."

He glared at me. "I keep my word. A bet is a bet."

Wesley loosened his joints, jumped up, and made a basketball shooting gesture.

His movement was smooth and straightforward, not exaggerated at all.

He adjusted his collar, pretending nothing had happened.

Then he fiercely said, "Don't tell anyone."

Ha, just like a little peacock.

That’s when the seeds of a crush took root in that moment, silent and unnoticed.