Chapter 1
The morning felt like every other, rushed and unforgiving. I swung out of bed, slamming my hand against the clock for another snooze before forcing myself up anyway. The uniform already clung to my skin, too heavy for the scorching day ahead. My hair resisted every attempt to be tamed into a decent braid. I practically gulped down steaming rice, burning my tongue in the process. It had become a daily ritual, rushing through breakfast like my life depended on it, just to catch the last bus and avoid that humiliating late slip. Honestly, if someone called me a masochist, I’d accept it without hesitation. Who else willingly burns their own mouth every single morning and still doesn’t learn?
I skidded past the flock of students dressed in maroon, making to the threshold of my classroom just in time. I compose myself before settling down on my seat. My feet stopped as I squint my eyes to look at the boy seated at the last bench.
He looked...
...well, he looked really out of place.
He was too charismatic to sit in the room full of people who looked like they toiled seven jobs before reporting to study. Strands of his hair clung to his forehead, giving the illusion of dampness despite being perfectly dry.
His eyes were so soft at first, Bambi like, but the moment he focused on the couple arguing in the corner, they sharpened. Quieter. Deeper.
The lip piercing on his lips made him look like a trouble. The kind your mom always warns you about. The kind of guy who would ruin your life but still end up in your playlist. My gaze lingered a little longer on the tapestry of his jaw. It was sharp; bad decision wrapped in good looks.
I snapped out of my trance when I heard the teacher say the roll calls.
“Ian? “, The teacher called out.
“Present”, He said.
Lord, forgive me for my sins, but his voice.
“Students, Ian, will be your classmate for the next two semesters. I hope you will make sure that he does not feel lonely”, the teacher said with her honey lazed tone.
I looked at Ian.
He did not look like someone who wanted to be welcomed He gave a curt nod before returning to his notebook, already scribbling as if the room had nothing to do with him.
Then he glanced up, just briefly.
Our eyes met.
But just as quickly, he looked away as if I was nothing more than a blur in his perfect scenery. Even though his eyes weren’t on me anymore, I could feel the intense gaze imprinted at the back of my eyelids. All those glinting metal piercings on his lips and ears, still his eyes were the most captivating.
I took a deep breath to let my face cool off. I had never seen a man so attractive. I was going to be in trouble this year.
I plugged my earphones to distract myself from the perfectly distracting demigod who was seated just a few seats away. As if fate had a sense of humor, the song that started playing was clearly not on my side - it was all about teasing and pleasing.
The bell for the lecture goes off.
“Sports room? “, He asked flatly, without looking up from his notebook.
Then, after a beat-
“Since you are already looking this way”
Oh.
Great. I was not being very subtle.
“.. to the right - down the corridor”, I blurted, almost too fast.
He stood up and just left without giving a second glance.
The next lecture started soon after, but I noticed his absence. It had been long since he was gone.
Should I check upon him?
No, get a grip. Why should I?
The teacher explained something about history being written all over again. I suppose she was referring to Aristotle but wait-? Why was she talking about philosophy of science.
I tried to make sense of words written in my book but no matter how many times I read them, the letters seemed to blur and confuse me. It felt like staring at jumbled words.
A slight creak came from the door.
Should I look up?
NO... Absolutely not.
Maybe a little bit.
I glanced at the door.
Ian stood there, half in half out as if debating whether to enter the room or not.
But then he walked further in, unhurried as if time was different for him than everybody else.
He slipped back in his seat, displeased with the new environment he was put into. I wondered what his school might have been like. Was it better than ours?
I switched to another song; my pencil starts drifting to the corner of my diary. I scribbled lines and drew confused circles. Shaded boxes that were definitely not meant to be shaded.
This was getting ridiculous.
My thoughts faltered when a pen rolled across the floor, nudging softly against my foot.
... but before I could say anything, a hand reached out and took it from me.
“Thank you.”
I looked up.
Ian.
His expression gave nothing away.
I looked back down at my notebook, forcing my attention onto the mess of lines I’d drawn.
“Play the first one again.”
I blinked, looking up.
Ian hadn’t moved.
His gaze wasn’t on me, but his voice was low enough that it couldn’t have been meant for anyone else.
“The song,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
Then he leaned back in his chair, like he hadn’t just said anything at all.
.
