Matthew's POV
The new girl—Ivana, I think her name is—she thinks she's being subtle, watching me from the corner of her eye when she assumes I'm not paying attention. She's got that confident stride, the one that says she's a wolf in a pack of sheep. Little does she know, nothing escapes me unless I choose to let it.
It's been a week since she joined, and I've seen her making her rounds. She's got this way of moving through the school like she's already figured it all out, but she doesn't know that I've got this place wired. I'm aware of every glance, every whisper, every sidelong look in my direction. She's trying to get a read on me, but it's almost funny how much she underestimates me.
I haven't been in all my classes lately—no need, really. I'm way past the curriculum they're teaching, so I pick and choose when to show up. People think it's a gift, being this ahead of the curve, but sometimes it feels more like a curse. It's like playing a game where you already know the outcome, and the thrill's just...gone.
That's why I keep a low profile. Better to let everyone else think they're the ones in control. But Ivana...she's different. She's got this spark, this determination, like she's playing a game of her own. I can't help but find it a little amusing, especially when she's trying so hard to act nonchalant around me.
Speaking of which, right on cue, I glance at my wristwatch, timing her entry into the library. She's gotten into the habit of wandering in here around this time, pretending she's looking for something to read, though she rarely checks out anything. She's careful about it, too, like she's trying not to make it obvious that she's just here because I'm here.
I smirk, lowering my gaze back to my book. Last time, she was so engrossed in whatever she was pretending to read, she didn't even realize the book was upside down. I had to stifle a laugh at that one. She's got guts, I'll give her that.
The thing is, she has no idea that this part of the library is mine. I staked it out ages ago, and no one dares to come in here because these books aren't your typical high school fare. They're research theories and publications sent by some of the top scientific institutes. Even the teachers steer clear, leaving me to my thoughts.
And yet, here she is, breaking all the unspoken rules, walking right into my territory. At first, I thought about saying something, telling her she's not supposed to be here. But then...where's the fun in that? Watching her try to act casual, to blend in while she's clearly out of her depth, is far more entertaining.
She's scanning the shelves now, pretending to be deep in thought as she runs her fingers along the spines of the books. I can see the little creases on her forehead as she tries to figure out her next move. It's almost endearing.
She picks out a book—one of the heavier ones, of course—and settles into a chair across the room. I glance up briefly, catching the way she sneaks a look at me, probably thinking I'm too absorbed in my reading to notice. I let her believe that, turning a page in my book with deliberate slowness.
It's been surprisingly enjoyable, this little game we're playing. She's trying to crack me, figure out what makes me tick, but she's doing it all wrong. If she really wanted to know, all she'd have to do is ask. But I'm guessing that's too straightforward for someone like her.
I lean back in my chair, considering my next move. Maybe I should make it easier for her, throw her a bone, see what she does with it. But then again, watching her squirm is its own kind of fun.
For now, I'll let her keep pretending. After all, this library has always been my sanctuary, my escape from the noise and chaos of everything else. But lately, it's also become the place where I've started to look forward to something...or rather, someone.
Ivana Mark. She's bold, she's unpredictable, and she's definitely not boring. Maybe she's not just another student passing through. Maybe, just maybe, she's the distraction I didn't know I needed.
With that thought in mind, I close my book and decide to stir the pot a little. As I walk past her on my way out, I pause just long enough to say, "You know, that book you're holding is upside down again."
The look of surprise on her face is priceless. I don't wait for a response, just walk out with a smirk, already imagining how she's going to react. I'm barely out the door when I hear a muffled scream—a mix of frustration and disbelief. I can practically picture her rolling her eyes, probably knocking her head against the book in embarrassment.
As I continue down the hallway, something else catches my ear. It's faint, almost too quiet to be sure, but I could swear I heard her mumble, "What if I like reading it upside down?"
I stop dead in my tracks, one foot still hovering in the air. Did I just hear that right? I replay the words in my head, half-convinced I must have imagined it. But no, I know what I heard. A small, baffled laugh escapes me. This girl...she's something else.
Unable to resist, I lean casually against the nearest wall, giving myself a moment to process. Here I am, thinking I've got her figured out, and she goes and flips the script—literally. Who the hell reads a book upside down on purpose? But then again, who smirks at a genius and pretends to not care? Ivana Mark, apparently.
The idea of going back in there and confronting her is tempting. I can see it now: walking up to her with that same smirk, asking, "So, is that your secret to being a rebel? Reading everything the wrong way up?" I imagine her glare, the way she'd cross her arms and give some sassy comeback like, "Why not? It makes things more interesting."
But as much as I'd love to watch her squirm a little more, I decide to let her off the hook—for now. Besides, I'm still trying to figure out if this is all just some elaborate act or if she's genuinely that quirky. Either way, it's fascinating.
As I stroll down the corridor, I can't help but chuckle to myself. The more I think about it, the funnier it gets. She's like a puzzle with pieces that don't quite fit, yet somehow form a complete picture. I've dealt with my fair share of classmates, but none of them have ever managed to catch me off guard like this.
I reach the end of the hallway and pause for a moment, leaning against the window and looking out at the courtyard below. I've always kept to myself, never really letting anyone get too close. But Ivana...she's different.
As I walk down the hallway, I hear my phone beep—a new message. It's from my team on Skype. I glance at the screen and see the notification pop up. What are they calling for now?
I swipe to open the message, still thinking about Ivana and her upside-down book. The message is from one of the guys on my research team, probably looking for input on something they're stuck on. They're brilliant, no doubt, but sometimes they hit a wall and come running to me for a push.
"Good day, Matt. I've got this theory, but I'm hitting a roadblock…" the message begins. Typical. They've run into something they can't quite crack, and of course, they figure I'll have the answer.
I smirk, already picturing the scenario. They're probably gathered around a table, papers strewn everywhere, scratching their heads over some complex problem while hoping I can swoop in and save the day.
I could respond right away, dive into the problem like I usually do, but instead, I let my fingers hover over the keyboard. I'm still thinking about Ivana and her quirky ways. There's something refreshing about the unpredictability she brings. Maybe it's time to shake things up a bit, even with my team.
Let me take a look," I type back, keeping it short and vague. I send the message, but instead of immediately diving into their theory, I slip my phone back into my pocket. They can wait a bit. After all, I'm not just their personal problem-solver on demand.
My thoughts bouncing between the new challenge from my team and the enigma that is Ivana Mark. Life has been a bit too predictable lately, but something tells me things are about to get a lot more interesting.
With that, I head off, knowing that both Ivana and my team are in for a few surprises of their own. After all, what's life without a little unpredictability.