”A delicious and nerdy romance.” –Kirkus
 
"A high school romance that will capture readers’ hearts." –*School Library Journal

"Stories rooted in fandom have been growing increasingly popular, and this rivals-to-allies romance embraces genre tropes while also challenging the assumptions its characters make at every turn. Great, competitive fun with satisfying payoff on every level." –Booklist *

Autorentext

Meredith Tate

Klappentext

Can two IRL enemies find their happily ever after online?

Stella Greene and Wesley Clarke are Gene Connolly Memorial High School's biggest rivals. While the two have been battling it out for top student, it's a race to the bottom when it comes to snide comments and pulling the dirtiest prank. For years, Stella and Wes have been the villain in each other's story, and now it's all-out war.

And there is no bigger battle than the one for valedictorian, and more specifically, the coveted valedictorian scholarship.

But Stella and Wes have more in common than they think. Both are huge fans of Warship Seven, a popular sci-fi TV drama with a dedicated online following, and the two start chatting under aliases-without a clue that their rival is just beyond the screen. They realize that they're both attending SciCon this year, so they plan to dress in their best cosplay and finally meet IRL.

While tensions at school are rising and SciCon inches closer and closer, the enemy lines between Stella and Wes blur when a class project shows them they might understand one another better than anyone else-and not just in cosplay.

From the author of The Last Confession of Autumn Casterly comes a heartfelt story about rivalry, friendships, and defying preconceived notions-even the ones about yourself.

Zusammenfassung
Can two IRL enemies find their happily ever after online?

Stella Greene and Wesley Clarke are Gene Connolly Memorial High School's biggest rivals. While the two have been battling it out for top student, it's a race to the bottom when it comes to snide comments and pulling the dirtiest prank. For years, Stella and Wes have been the villain in each other's story, and now it's all-out war.

And there is no bigger battle than the one for valedictorian, and more specifically, the coveted valedictorian scholarship.

But Stella and Wes have more in common than they think. Both are huge fans of Warship Seven, a popular sci-fi TV drama with a dedicated online following, and the two start chatting under aliases--without a clue that their rival is just beyond the screen. They realize that they're both attending SciCon this year, so they plan to dress in their best cosplay and finally meet IRL.

While tensions at school are rising and SciCon inches closer and closer, the enemy lines between Stella and Wes blur when a class project shows them they might understand one another better than anyone else--and not just in cosplay.

From the author of The Last Confession of Autumn Casterly comes a heartfelt story about rivalry, friendships, and defying preconceived notions--even the ones about yourself.

Leseprobe

1  STELLA

 

There is an orangutan at the Cornerview Zoo that’s infamous for flinging his poop. It’s, like, a thing. Catch Orange the Orangutan mid-throw and post the photo on the zoo’s Facebook page. Sometimes they pick an entry to win a free water bottle or something.

I’m pretty sure a speech from Orange the Orangutan would be more coherent than the crap currently being flung toward me, straight out of Wesley Clarke’s mouth.

Wesley leans against the podium in front of our Public Speaking classroom, wearing a wrinkled green T-shirt. There is literally a giant Charizard on it. “And for my closing arguments, I’d like to reiterate that school uniforms stifle creativity and personal expression. How can I focus on my education when my clothing puts me in a box?” Several people clap their approval; I keep my hands firmly in my lap.

His teammates smirk at the other end of the room, because clearly everyone thinks Wesley Frickin’ Clarke has the argument in the bag, just for being Wesley Frickin’ Clarke. Breaking news: when you’re the heir to a big local candy factory and host parties in your gigantic game room with a Ping-Pong table and old-school Pac-Man arcade machine, everyone basically thinks you’re a god.

“In the same way that every student has the right to be comfortable in their learning environment, every student also has the right to wear what makes them comfortable.” Even Ms. Hatley nods.

“I thought the Geneva Convention outlawed this sort of torture,” I mutter under my breath.

Dahlia snickers beside me. “He’s milking it, too.”

I know Wesley was assigned Team No-Uniforms, but showing up to class in a ripped Pokémon T-shirt and board shorts is pushing it. I cross my arms, leaning back in my chair.

“Your initial argument decimated him,” Dahlia says. “We’ve got this.”

I wish she was right. But everyone knows Team No-Uniforms always wins at public schools. Plus, okay, here’s my deep, dark secret: I suck at public speaking.

“Imagine growing up knowing you can party your way through school and still wind up rich and successful because your last name is Clarke.”

“I don’t know.” Dahlia cocks her head, her dark curls swinging with the movement. “He’s pretty smart.”

“He’s rich and knows how to string a few words together. That doesn’t make him smart.”

“He gave a pretty good presentation in AP Euro last year. He called out some obscure battle stat that Mr. Bridges didn’t even know.”

I pretend to gag. “Okay, he’s good at history. Who cares?” It’s easy to get straight As when you’ve got private SAT-prep classes and don’t have to work at the ice cream parlor after school. “I’m just saying—”

“Girls.” Ms. Hatley shoots us a warning look. She makes the opposing side sit in the front row during the other team’s arguments, but I do not need such a clear view of Wesley’s smug face. I hate how everyone thinks he’s just so hot. Okay, I kind of get it—his cheekbones could basically cut diamonds—but I’d never admit that. I covertly click my phone under the desk—fifteen more minutes of class.

Captain Jill greets me on my lock screen, signature rifle slung over her shoulder. I have a pair of earrings that match the sigil on her jacket, of the Revelry encircled by a four-pointed gold star. I got them at last year’s Sci-Con—which reminds me, I still need to find a pair of Captain Jill’s boots for this year’s cosplay. That Sci-Con ticket basically cost a kidney, my left arm, and the blood of my firstborn, so there’s no way I’m showing up in anything less than prizewinning.

Dahlia casts a glance toward the other side of the room, and a smile twitches across her face; I follow her eyes, landing on Brandon Nguyen, Wesley’s best friend, who smiles back at her. I shift in my seat.

I know it’s cliché, but Dahlia’s been my best friend since kindergarten, when we took gymnastics together and both sucked at it and couldn’t cartwheel straight. Her first crush was on this kid Luke, who got yelled at in fourth grade for making gloves out of the class’s entire stock of rubber cement. Clearly her taste in guys hasn’t improved. Anyone even remotely connected to Wesley Clarke does not get my stamp of approval.

“These are meant to be the best years of our lives—not a military tour,” Wesley continues. Last night, he had the audacity to …