The host was calling all the winners back to the stage for the group photograph. Around them, children were rearranging themselves, parents were aiming cameras, coaches were gesturing frantically. Sebastian stood, and Margot stood beside him, and for a moment, in the chaos, he looked at her profile - the clean lines of it, the absolute self-possession - and thought that no one had ever made him feel like second place before.

He found the feeling unacceptable.

But underneath the unacceptable feeling was another one, smaller and quieter, that he wouldn't identify for years: he had found, at twelve years old, the only person who might be able to match him.

Whether that was a threat or a gift remained to be seen.

The camera flashed, freezing them both in place: two children at the beginning of something neither of them could name.

Six years would pass.

Six years of competing on opposite ends of rankings lists. Six years of seeing each other's names on the same honor rolls, the same scholarship announcements, the same glossy profiles in prep school achievement newsletters. Six years of being linked by their numbers - always first and first, always tied, always parallel - without ever being in the same room again.

Six years until MIT.

And everything that came after.

"MARGOT CALDWELL! OH MY GOD!"

Harlow Reed's shriek cut through the crowded hallway outside the registrar's office. She grabbed Margot's arm with both hands and shook her like a rag doll. "You're NUMBER ONE! Look! LOOK!"

Margot blinked at the printed admission list taped to the bulletin board. Her name sat at the top of the physics department roster. Below it, a sea of names she didn't recognize. Above it, nothing.

"I know," Margot said.

"You KNOW? That's all you're going to say? You're the top incoming freshman in the entire physics program at MIT and you're acting like you just found out what's for lunch!"

Margot shrugged. "I mean, I was expecting it."

"Oh my GOD, you're insufferable." Harlow released her and spun back to the board, scanning frantically. "Where am I, where am I-there! Economics! I'm in!" She let out another ear-splitting squeal and threw her arms around Margot. "We're going to MIT together! Can you believe it?"

"You submitted your application. You had a 4.0 GPA. Why wouldn't you get in?"

"Because not everyone has a brain like yours, you alien." Harlow stepped back and studied Margot with narrowed eyes. "Wait. Didn't you put electrical engineering as your first choice?"

"I did."

"But you're in physics."

"I changed it."

"When?"

"Last week."

Harlow's jaw dropped. "Last WEEK? Margot, the acceptance letters went out a month ago. You can't just-"

"I called the admissions office. They said I could switch departments as long as both programs had open spots. Physics had three. Electrical engineering was overenrolled anyway."

"But... why? Electrical engineering was your dream program. You talked about it for two years."

Margot turned away from the board and started walking. Harlow scrambled to keep up.

"Electrical engineering is brutal," Margot said. "Constant lab work. Insane course load. Everyone competing to see who can survive on the least sleep. It's a cult." She paused. "I don't want to spend four years in a lab coat measuring circuit resistance."

"So you picked physics instead."

"Physics is elegant. It's theoretical. I can think instead of soldering wires."

"You mean you can be lazy."

Margot grinned. "Exactly."

Harlow shook her head in disbelief. "You know what? I hate you. I study ten hours a day and barely scrape by with A-minuses. You roll out of bed, take the exam in your pajamas, and ace it without breaking a sweat."

"That's not true."

"It's completely true."

"I study."

"When?"

"At night."

"Liar."

"I'm serious. I stay up late. Read textbooks under the covers with a flashlight. Very scholarly."

"Margot."

"Fine. I skim the chapter summaries the morning of the test. Happy?"

Harlow threw up her hands. "I hate you so much."

They pushed through the exit doors into the bright May sunshine. The campus was alive with incoming freshmen and their families-parents snapping photos, students clutching acceptance folders, everyone buzzing with nervous excitement.

"Oh!" Harlow grabbed Margot's wrist. "I forgot to tell you the best part."

"What?"

"Sebastian Thornton is coming here."

Margot frowned. "Who?"

Harlow stopped walking. "Who? WHO? Sebastian Thornton. Fourth-generation heir to Thornton Corporation. Featured in Bloomberg at sixteen. Literal campus royalty before he even steps foot on campus."

"Never heard of him."

"He's also the top incoming freshman. Just like you."

Something clicked. Margot's frown deepened. "Wait. What department?"

"Physics."

"There's only one top spot."

"Nope. You're both listed as number one. Tied."

Margot's stomach dropped. "Tied?"

"Yeah. It's crazy, right? The admissions office said it's the first time in fifteen years that two students had identical scores."

Margot's mind raced. Tied. That meant-

Her breath caught.

Six years ago. A marble ballroom. A cold-eyed boy in a suit three sizes too big.

"Oh no," she said softly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Margot-"

"It's nothing." She started walking faster.

Harlow jogged to catch up. "Anyway, you should see him. He's gorgeous. Like, offensively gorgeous. The kind of guy who makes you forget how to speak in complete sentences."

"Great."

"And he's rich. Like, private-jet-to-class rich."

"Even better."

"And he's smart. Obviously. Since he tied with you."

Margot said nothing. Her heart was beating too fast. It couldn't be the same person. It had been six years. She had been eleven, he twelve. It was one competition. One day. He probably didn't even remember her.

"There's a rumor," Harlow continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "that he had six girlfriends in high school. At the same time."

"Six."

"SIX. Can you imagine? I can barely manage a text conversation with one guy and this man is juggling half a dozen relationships like it's a hobby."

"He sounds awful."

"He sounds HOT."

Margot rolled her eyes. "You have terrible taste in men."

"I have EXCELLENT taste in men. I just have terrible luck actually talking to them." Harlow sighed dramatically. "Anyway, I'm just saying. Keep an eye out. Sebastian Thornton is going to be everywhere this fall."

Margot shoved her hands in her pockets and kept walking. She told herself it didn't matter. Even if it was the same boy from the competition-and that was a big if-it had been six years. People changed. He'd probably forgotten all about her.

She certainly wasn't going to go looking for him.