Tessa's P.O.V:
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It's been two weeks since I saw him. Two long weeks since that moment, and yet, his face won't leave my mind. It's not like I'm sitting here waiting for something to happen—I'm not. I've told myself that a thousand times. But even now, no matter how much I try, it's almost impossible to erase his face from my thoughts. Once you've seen something so striking, so unforgettable, how do you pretend it never happened?
I've spent the past two weeks cooped up at home, trying to distract myself while Irene has been out with Justin, returning each time with stories to tell—stories so outrageous, so colorful, they could only come from her. I laugh at her antics, and I nod along when she shares the details of her escapades, but deep down, I'm somewhere else.
Now, here I am, sitting next to Kingsley David—the most handsome guy in the anatomy department. I know I've thought that before. Objectively, there's no denying it: his aura, the way he carries himself, his confidence—it's magnetic. Every time I'm near him, I feel the need to compose myself, to control my breathing like I'm afraid he'll notice something if I let my guard down. But today? Today, none of that matters.
We're sitting in the histology lab, waiting for our turn to present. Presentation day. The assignment was simple enough: read about the history of anatomy and come prepared to share what we've learned. But the wait has been endless, and the excitement I once had has drained away. At this point, I'm not even sure if I care when my turn comes.
Somewhere in the quiet hum of the lab, my thoughts drift back to him. The more I try to push him out of my mind, the stronger his presence feels. What is it about him that's doing this to me? Could he really have walked away from that moment feeling nothing? Because I felt everything. In just a few minutes, he managed to make me feel a thousand things all at once—things I've never felt before.
But then again, what if it was nothing to him? What if I was the only one left feeling this way? It's a question that's haunted me every day since. And then there's this other realization: I don't even know his name. How is it possible for someone to affect you so deeply, yet remain a complete mystery?
I've thought about asking Irene, maybe even Justin, but every time I try to muster the courage, I stop myself. What if they laugh? What if they judge me? I've always been terrified of people's opinions, and that fear has kept me silent more times than I can count. So, I say nothing. I keep it all to myself, locking it away where no one can reach it.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't even realize Kingsley was staring at me until he spoke.
"Where are you at?" he asked, his voice cutting through the haze in my mind.
I startled, blinking as his words pulled me back to the present. For a moment, I didn't know how to respond. It was as if I'd forgotten where I was, what I was supposed to be doing.
"I—uh…" I stammered, feeling the weight of his gaze on me.
He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. "You've been staring off into space for the past five minutes. What's going on in that head of yours?"
"Nothing," I lied quickly, shaking my head as if that could erase the lingering traces of my thoughts. "Just… waiting for my turn, I guess."
Kingsley gave me a look like he didn't believe me, but he didn't press further. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, still watching me out of the corner of his eye.
I tried to focus on the lab, the presentations, anything but the storm swirling inside me. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape it. His face, his voice, the way he made me feel—it all kept pulling me back. And as much as I hated to admit it, I didn't want to let it go.
Even if a part of me didn't want to let go, I knew I had to. I had no choice. Life isn't a fairy tale where your fantasies magically align with reality. If I wanted to succeed, if I truly wanted to cross over to the next level of my studies, I had to pull myself out of this emotional spiral. Being an anatomy student wasn't for the weak-hearted. This field wasn't all glitz and glamour—it was heavy, relentless, and unforgiving. And if you weren't strong enough to carry that weight, you'd collapse under it.
So, I had to be harder. Tougher. Stronger.
I turned to Kingsley David—the ever-charming, confident anatomy star—and tried to focus on the topic we were meant to be discussing. Anything to ground myself. If I kept distracting myself with thoughts of him, I wouldn't make it through this day, let alone the rest of the semester. Kingsley was talking about the macabre history of anatomy, something that seemed to delight the room.
Apparently, the infamous duo William Burke and William Hare was all anyone could talk about today. Two men who murdered people just to sell their bodies for anatomical study. It was grim, unsettling, and yet, it was fascinating. The idea of taking something as horrific as murder and tying it into the advancement of medical science—it was a contradiction that left me speechless.
"It's amazing how much anatomy has evolved," Kingsley said, his tone almost too casual for the topic. "I mean, think about it. Without guys like Burke and Hare—awful as they were—where would the field be today?"
I nodded absentmindedly, my thoughts still drifting. "True, but… killing people just to study their bodies? That's terrifying." I chuckled nervously, trying to match his energy. "Honestly, anatomy students are the last people you'd want to cross."
"You're not wrong," he teased. "We're practically experts in how to dismember someone without leaving a trace."
I laughed at that, though the thought sent a slight shiver down my spine. "For me, it's not about the cutting or dissecting. It's the understanding. The joy is in learning what makes the body work, discovering what most people don't even think about. That's the real beauty of anatomy."
Kingsley gave me a small smile, like he was impressed. "You're right. Most people don't get that. They see the blood and the scalpels and think we're all just… morbid."
For a moment, I let myself relax. Talking about anatomy reminded me why I was here, why I loved what I did. It was more than just a subject—it was a way of understanding life itself. And yet, even as I tried to immerse myself in the conversation, his face kept creeping into my thoughts.
Trying to shake it off, I decided to ask Kingsley a random question, something to keep my mind engaged. "What if you go up there and freeze? Like, during a presentation? How do you handle it?"
He smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Easy. I have two tricks for that."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh yeah? Do tell."
"The first one is simple. You look at the dumbest-looking person in the crowd—someone who looks like they'll believe anything—and just talk to them. Pretend they're the only one listening. Works like a charm."
I laughed at the absurdity of it, but then his smirk deepened, and I knew he had more to say. "And the second?"
"Well…" He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make my heart skip a beat. "You find the prettiest person in the room. Someone who completely distracts you. And then you let the words flow. For example…" His eyes met mine, and the smirk turned into something softer, more pointed. "You."
I felt my heart race, an unmistakable warmth creeping up my neck. But I couldn't let him see that. No way. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. So, I shrugged it off, forcing a laugh as though his words didn't affect me at all.
"Nice try," I said, rolling my eyes playfully. "But I'm pretty sure that's the worst advice I've ever heard."
He chuckled, leaning back again as if he hadn't just made my heart do a backflip. "Suit yourself."
I turned away, pretending to focus on my notes, but my thoughts were anything but focused. Did he mean it? Was he just teasing me? Either way, I couldn't let myself get caught up in it. Kingsley David might have been charming, but I wasn't about to let him—or anyone else—get the wrong idea about where my head was at.
I couldn't afford another distraction. Not now. Not ever.
So I pushed it all down—the warmth in my chest, the lingering thoughts of him, and even the flutter of excitement Kingsley's words had stirred. I pushed it all away and forced myself to stay grounded.
Because this wasn't the time for feelings. This was the time to survive.
During my presentation, I surprised myself. I was confident, smooth, and every word flowed like water. Fear gripped me at first, but instead of faltering, it sharpened my focus. It was as if the nerves compelled me to speak with more clarity, more precision. When the lecturer asked questions, I answered each one flawlessly, my responses clear and concise. By the time it was over, I could hardly believe it. I'd nailed it.
As I walked back to my seat, I let out a shaky breath. Relief washed over me. Thank God. I couldn't have handled another second of that. Too bad Kingsley wasn't there to see it, though. What a shame.
After that day, I tried to move on. I told myself to let go of the lingering thoughts, to forget what had been plaguing my mind for weeks now. But no matter how hard I tried, he wouldn't leave. His face, his voice, the inexplicable pull I felt toward him—it was like he had taken up permanent residence in my mind. I couldn't escape him, so eventually, I stopped fighting it.
Three days passed. Three long, restless days.
It was a quiet Thursday morning. No classes, no obligations. My roommate and I were lounging around, enjoying the rare break. That was when Irene came back, looking as radiant as ever, with the glow of someone who'd had an exciting night. She was fresh from spending the evening with Justin, and as always, she had stories to tell.
"I swear, last night was amazing!" she began, her voice brimming with excitement. "We went to this party, and guess what? Everyone was there, including Tessa's booo."
I froze. My heart leapt at her words, and before I could stop myself, I bolted out of the bathroom like someone had yelled fire. My sudden appearance startled her, and my roommate looked at me like I'd lost my mind.
"Wait, which of my booo?" I asked, trying to feign casual curiosity but failing miserably. My voice betrayed the eagerness bubbling inside me.
Irene looked at me, puzzled. "You know exactly who I'm talking about," she said with a smirk.
Of course, I knew. But I couldn't let her know that. Not yet. "Just tell me already!" I said, pretending to be annoyed.
She raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my impatience. "Daræy," she finally said.
His name.
It hit me like a lightning bolt, sending a rush of heat through my body. My heart skipped a beat, then another, before racing uncontrollably. Daræy. The name repeated itself in my mind, over and over, like a melody I couldn't shake.
I froze, trying to process it. His name was perfect. Beautiful. Just like him.
I managed to pull myself back from my thoughts long enough to ask, "A Yoruba guy?" My voice was calm, but inside, I was a mess.
Irene nodded, her expression smug. "Yep, Daræy is a Yoruba guy. Why? You didn't even know his name?"
I hesitated, trying to play it cool. "Of course, I didn't. Now spill, girl! I don't have all day."
She laughed at my faux impatience. "Daræy," she repeated, drawing out the name. "The guy you had your first K-I-S-S-I-N-G with."
I rolled my eyes at her teasing tone. "Oh," I said, brushing it off like it didn't matter. But inside, I was anything but indifferent. Butterflies swirled in my stomach, and my heart felt like it might burst from my chest. So that's his name. Daræy.
I leaned back, letting the name settle in my mind. It suited him perfectly. It wasn't just a name—it was an embodiment of everything he was. Strong, striking, unforgettable.
As I thought about it, I couldn't help but smile. Is there anything about this guy that isn't perfect? From his face to his aura, his height, his voice, and now his name—it was all too much. It was as if his parents had crafted a masterpiece. They didn't just create a person; they created a work of art.
And I was captivated by it.
I couldn't stop thinking about Daræy. It wasn't just his face, his aura, or the way he carried himself—it was everything. The way he'd come into my life for just one fleeting moment and left a mark so deep it refused to fade. I hated how much control my thoughts had over me, how often I found myself replaying that day. I hated that I still cared, even when he clearly didn't.
My girls, though—they always had my back. They were my pillars, holding me up when my emotions felt too heavy to carry alone. Irene, especially, never missed an opportunity to show how much she cared.
"I asked Justin about Daræy," Irene said, her tone light but deliberate.
My heart skipped a beat. I was sitting on the bed, twisting a strand of my hair absentmindedly, but the second she said his name, I froze. "What?" I asked, trying to mask the sudden rush of nerves that coursed through me.
She leaned in slightly, as if preparing to deliver juicy gossip. "I asked him about you."
My eyes widened. "About me? Why would you do that?"
Irene shrugged, her expression unapologetic. "Justin doesn't like talking about Daræy much, but I forced some information out of him."
I felt my breath hitch. Every word she was about to say felt like it could tilt my entire world.
"Turns out Daræy isn't just rich. He's super rich. No, scratch that. He's effing rich. Like, 'I own the world' rich."
The room erupted into laughter.
"We get it, Irene," I said, rolling my eyes to hide the way my heart was racing.
She laughed, unbothered. "No, seriously! The guy is loaded. He could probably buy this whole campus and still have change left over."
"Rich and rude," Biancus chimed in. "I mean, what kind of guy kisses someone like you and doesn't even call or text? You're gorgeous, Tess. Like, ridiculously pretty."
I looked down, embarrassed. "Thanks," I murmured.
Biancus wasn't done. "You don't see it, but we do. The way you drift off sometimes, it's like you're lost in thought, and we all know who you're thinking about."
"Yeah, girl," Irene added. "That boy made an impression. A big one."
Ruth jumped in, her voice firm and comforting. "But don't let him live rent-free in your head. If he doesn't realize what a catch you are, that's on him. He's the one missing out."
"Exactly!" Light said, her tone playful but supportive. "Forget him. The guy's a total douche. No brain cells, no sense. Just vibes."
That made me laugh, the first real laugh I'd had in days. "Speak anatomy," I teased her.
Light gasped dramatically. "Oops, sorry. I'm a physiology student, not anatomy!"
We all burst into laughter, the sound filling the room like sunlight. These girls were my safe space, my family away from home. They always knew how to lift me up, how to remind me of my worth when I doubted it myself.
As the laughter died down, I turned to Irene, eager to shift the spotlight off me. "Enough about Daræy. What about you and Justin? What's going on there?"
She smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, you know, we've been having fun. Two weeks now, and the guy still won't put a name to it. But it's fine. I'm not looking for anything serious with him either. I've got a boyfriend who treats me well. Justin's just... someone I hang out with on the side."
"At it, girl," I said, smiling. "You're doing the right thing. A guy like Justin? He'd break your heart in a second if you let him. It's good you're keeping things casual. You're too good for him."
"Right?" Irene said, tossing her hair dramatically. "He should be thanking the stars he even gets to breathe the same air as me."
Biancus nodded. "Facts. Guys like Justin don't deserve girls like you. If he's lucky enough to be around you, he should count his blessings."
I couldn't help but feel proud of Irene. She was strong, confident, and smart enough to protect her heart. She knew her worth, and she wasn't about to let anyone take her for granted.
The conversation eventually drifted to other things, but their words stayed with me. My friends had my back, always. They saw me in ways I sometimes couldn't see myself. They reminded me that I wasn't alone, that even when my thoughts felt overwhelming, I had people who cared.
As we all sat there, listening to Irene go on and on, her energy lighting up the room, she suddenly paused mid-laugh and said, "Girls, I have the real gist here."
We perked up immediately. Irene always had a knack for delivering drama. "What is it?" I asked, intrigued.
She leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Did you know that the guy you've been thinking about so much—the one you're convinced doesn't care—I think he actually does."
Her words hit me like a jolt. "What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice cautious. The others were just as confused, leaning in closer as if that would make Irene spill faster.
She grinned, clearly savoring the suspense. "Last night Daræy's girlfriend called Justin crying" "ah why was she crying" Ruth asked immediately and Irene didn't waste time in answering practically giving me a good news. "Well Last night, Daræy broke up with his girlfriend."
The room went silent, the air thick with surprise. "Wait, what?" Biancus asked, breaking the silence.
"Yeah," Irene confirmed with a nod, her grin widening. "And guess why?"
We all stared at her, wide-eyed and eager. "Why?" Light finally asked, echoing what we were all thinking.
Irene's expression turned dramatic, her voice dropping as if she were sharing a deep secret. "He broke up with her because she kissed him. On the lips."
At first, we were stunned into silence, trying to process her words. Then Biancus, ever the practical one, raised her brows. "She's his girlfriend. What else was she supposed to do—not kiss him?"
That made us all burst into laughter, the absurdity of it all breaking through the initial shock. But even as we laughed, I couldn't shake the disbelief. "Are you serious?" I asked Irene, my voice skeptical.
"I'm dead serious," she said, crossing her heart for emphasis. "I mean, think about it. It's like he's been keeping something bottled up for the past two weeks." She nudged Light and Bianca knowingly, her eyes glinting with implication. "You know what I mean."
Light and Bianca exchanged a glance, then smirked. "The past two weeks... Isn't that the exact same day when you and Daræy—" Light started to say, her voice teasing, before I cut her off.
"Oh, please," I scoffed, waving them off even as my heart raced. "That can't possibly be it. He broke up with his girlfriend because of me? Are you insane? She's probably perfect. There's no way."
Ruth groaned. "Girl, you really need to stop putting yourself down."
"Exactly," Irene chimed in. "You are as good as they come, Tess. If anything, you're probably better than her. And besides," she added with a sly grin, "she's no longer in the picture. Which means... there's room for one more."
They all burst into laughter, but I was too stunned to join in. Daræy broke up with his girlfriend. Because of a kiss. It didn't make sense. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with me... right? There had to be another reason. Something I didn't know.
But as their laughter filled the room, a tiny seed of hope planted itself in my chest, no matter how much I tried to deny it. Could it really be true? Could I have meant something to him after all?