As we sat in the classroom, a heavy silence enveloped us during the Biology exam.
The only sounds you can hear are the soft scratching of pencils and the occasional rustle of paper.
I was deeply engrossed in pondering the answer to the essay question, which loomed as the final challenge of the test.
My gaze drifted to Noah, who was a few rows ahead of me.
There he was, casually spinning his ballpoint pen, his brow furrowed in concentration.
He had this habit of biting his lip when he was lost in thought, and it made him even more captivating.
It struck me how strikingly handsome he looked in that moment, his tousled hair catching the faint light filtering through the glass.
I found myself momentarily lost in my thoughts, the words of the essay slipping away as I considered why he had such an effect on me.
Damn it, Noah, I thought, momentarily forgetting the pressure of the exam surrounding us.
That was the story I shared with him in the final love letter I slipped into his locker, a moment filled with both hope and trepidation.
In that carefully penned letter, I poured out my heartfelt apology for the way I had always intruded into his concert.
I chose to wait, allowing the weight of my emotions to settle before I steeled myself to write to him again, longing for a chance to connect with him.
"Noah, you're stepping on my letter," I called out as I watched him nonchalantly pick up another love letter from the ground instead.
My eyes fell on the corners of my crumpled love letter, now flattened beneath his shoe.
A familiar twinge of pain surged through me, mingling with the bittersweet memories etched in every word I had poured onto the page.
Noah stood there, his brows raised in a mixture of disbelief and amusement. The sunlight glinted off his slightly tousled hair, casting a halo-like effect around him.
"Oh... You're asking me to read something disgusting?" he said, his tone laced with sarcasm, yet there was an undeniable edge of curiosity in his voice.
My jaw dropped in disbelief. "It was fine earlier when you didn't step on it," I stuttered, frustration creeping into my voice.
A storm of nerves and anger swirled within me once more. Why did he have to be so harsh?
"Make another one. It's disgusting," he said dismissively, turning his back to me as if I were beneath his notice. His body language radiated disdain, and it stung.
I couldn't hold back my irritation any longer. "You should atleast learn how to appreciate people's efforts," I scoffed, my tone sharp and defensive.
His piercing gaze locked onto mine, and I felt a shiver travel down my spine.
"Do you? Or do you just want me to appreciate you? Huh? Serena? You're playing the hero here, but deep down, you just want to be noticed."
His words cut deep, and I faltered under the weight of his accusation.
The intensity in his eyes made me feel vulnerable, as if he could see right through my facade. He shook his head slowly, disappointment etched across his features, before walking away, leaving me reeling.
I closed my eyes tightly, fighting back the sting of tears, and took a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside me. Damn it!
Despite his abrasive demeanor and often gruff personality, I found myself consistently involved in supporting their band. It was a familiar routine; he tended to be pretty harsh with me, but I chose to take it in stride.
I came to realize that his harshness wasn't personal—it was simply his way of interacting with everyone around him.
Knowing this allowed me to remain focused on my dedication to their music, regardless of how tough he could be.
I was always present during their practice sessions, immersing myself in the lively atmosphere that surrounds them.
They always have their animated conversations about girls, a topic that seems to excite them. I overheard them mention an intriguing crush that Noah has on a girl from the senior class.
In the 10th grade, I witnessed a striking transformation in his physique that captivated my attention.
He shot up in height, his frame stretching taller, and with that growth came the development of well-defined muscles that hinted at his physical strength.
It was hard to miss the changes, especially since my cousin Julian was constantly talking about his workouts and fitness routines as they worked out together.
One time, I walked into the classroom to find him confidently flexing his abs, the muscles rippling under his skin. I was so shocked by the sight that I almost tripped.
"I can already feel a twinge in my legs as I stretch," I admitted, glancing over at Ashly as we prepared for today's physical activity.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. But I just love sports so much!" Ashly replied, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "I'm grateful we're playing volleyball instead of basketball today. And swimming is coming up in second semester, right? I can't wait!"
"Ash! Can I get my shoes!?" Julian's voice echoed through the bustling locker room, a mixture of impatience and urgency.
I glanced over and spotted him frantically waving his arms, he pointed at his sneakers lying abandoned on the floor nearby.
Inside the locker room, the girls were absorbed in their pre-game rituals, rifling through the depths of their lockers in search of their type C uniforms and the perfect pair of shoes.
The air was thick with excitement and the sound of zippers being pulled and hangers clanking, amplified by the chatter and laughter of teammates getting ready for the match.
"I told you," Ashly huffed, her frustration evident as she crossed her arms tightly. "You should have kept this in your locker, not mine!"
I caught sight of Noah through the door. He was frowning slightly, his brows furrowed in concentration, but even with that serious expression, he looked incredibly handsome.
His black tousled hair caught the light just right, and I couldn't help but bite my lip, feeling a flutter of nerves in my stomach.
He's so hot, damn it!
I took a deep breath and turned my attention back to my locker, my heart racing as I fumbled with the combination, stealing glances at him as I did.
"Have you struggled with those chemistry questions we answered earlier?" The person sitting next to me inquired, eyeing me with a hint of curiosity.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could utter a word, a cacophony of papers erupted from my locker, cascading to the floor like an avalanche of white chaos.
I gasped in surprise, my heart racing, and instinctively let out a curse as it scattered all around me.
I was feeling a wave of nervousness as I glanced at the four small cake boxes nestled in my locker.
Just yesterday, we had a fun baking session to help Ashly, who has never quite mastered the art of making cakes. I had poured my heart into baking four different cakes, but unfortunately, her's are still burnt.
We couldn't quite manage to finish every last bite of the cake, so I came up with the idea of saving some to share with the band.
I know Ian might not be too thrilled about it, but I'm hopeful that Sam and Alex will enjoy it.
And maybe, just maybe, Noah will appreciate it as well.
Ashly glanced at my locker. "You think Noah will accept that?," she pointed at the mini cake.
"I hope so. I'm nervous." I chuckled. I hope he won't smash it on my face. He won't.
A Vander like him won't hurt a girl, at least not physically.