Givan gulped, his throat dry, and said softly,
"Wow. She is really beautiful."
The girl noticed his gaze lingering on her and responded with a friendly nod, her expression calm yet radiant.
Givan felt heat rush to his face. Flustered, he quickly looked away, pretending to examine something else.
Ingrit, who had been silently observing the exchange, raised an eyebrow in astonishment.
'Was this… love at first sight?'
A sly smirk crept onto his face as he clapped a hand on Givan's shoulder. "Is this what I think it is? Hmm, Givan?"
Givan stiffened, his cheeks reddening even more, but he tried his best to compose himself. Masking his embarrassment with an indifferent tone, he replied,
"What are you talking about?"
"Ah, come on. Don't play dumb," Ingrit said, his grin widening. He glanced briefly at the girl, mischief glinting in his eyes. "Maybe I'll ask her out myself… once I get to know her better."
The statement was laughable, considering Ingrit had never even spoken to a girl, let alone gone on a date. Even Givan knew he was only teasing.
"Don't mess with me, man," Givan muttered, scratching his cheek awkwardly with his index finger.
Ingrit's expression turned neutral as he sighed. "Relax. I don't just fall for any girl I see. Besides…" His gaze flicked back to her, assessing. "She's not my type. I mean, just look at her."
There was no denying she was stunning. Her confidence was evident in the way she carried herself—her bright smile as she chatted with her friends, her hand brushing her bangs every so often, the subtle air of sophistication in her demeanor. She was the type of girl who knew her worth, and her self-assured attitude bordered on arrogance. For Ingrit, that was a glaring red flag; he preferred people who were easier to read, easier to deal with.
"What do you mean by that?" Givan asked, confused.
Ingrit let out a long-suffering sigh. "Nothing. Let's just go take our seats."
He plopped into his chair, folding his arms, while Givan hesitated for a moment before sitting beside him.
"So…" Givan began, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What kind of girl do you like?"
Ingrit froze, clearly caught off guard. He wasn't the type to talk about his ideal woman, believing such secrets were best kept to oneself. Revealing it to others always led to regret, in his experience. But he trusted Givan, and after clearing his throat, he allowed a smug grin to surface.
"Older women," he said confidently. "I like older women."
Givan's eyes widened in shock. Of all the answers he had anticipated, this wasn't even close. He fought the urge to burst into laughter, his lips twitching as he barely managed to suppress it.
"Seriously?!"
"Got a problem with that?" Ingrit asked flatly, his face expressionless. Then, waving off the moment with a sigh, he added,
"Anyway, you've got nothing to worry about. I'm not interested in her. So, go ahead—get close to her and ask her out when the opportunity strikes."
After that, they couldn't converse much because the starting bell for the class rang just then. Givan left and quietly took his seat.
A while later, their stunning homeroom teacher entered. Her mere presence was enough to hush the boys, silencing their chatter and drawing all eyes toward her. The boys couldn't help but fix their gazes on her—a vision of elegance and sophistication, with glasses adding an intellectual allure.
She had short, neatly styled brown hair and warm, expressive brown eyes. Her black dress accentuated her soft, fair complexion, while a pair of shining earrings and a glittering necklace added a touch of sparkle to her look. Altogether, she was a strikingly beautiful and youthful teacher.
She placed her handbag gracefully on the teacher's desk and addressed the class in a clear, commanding voice:
"Okay, boys and girls, take your seats properly and pay attention."
The students promptly obeyed, though the boys, already seated, could only manage to sit straighter, their shy eyes betraying their admiration as their faces flushed a light crimson.
Ingrit was no exception. She was the sole reason he found school enjoyable, a beacon of inspiration. This teacher, Armia, accounted for 98% of his motivation to attend regularly—the remaining 2% was reserved for academic goals. As he gazed at her with his deep black eyes, the usual emptiness in them softened, becoming more alive in her presence.
Taking a measured breath, Armia continued:
"Everyone, as you already know, we have a new classmate joining us today. Let's give her a warm welcome and treat her well. Saiya, come here and introduce yourself to the class."
"Yes, ma'am," Saiya replied softly, her tone polite yet confident.
She rose gracefully from her seat and walked to the front of the class, standing poised before the teacher's desk. Her voice was steady as she introduced herself:
"My name is Saiya Aintraz. I transferred from Jeff High School. I look forward to getting to know all of you better. I hope we can become good friends."
The entire class stared at her in awe. Her composed demeanor and radiant charm had captivated everyone—everyone except Ingrit. He had shifted his gaze to the window, resting his right hand near his temple, as though the introduction didn't concern him.
This blatant disregard made Saiya's irritation simmer beneath her calm exterior.
'The nerve of that guy! I'll make him regret ignoring me.' she fumed silently.
However, as Ingrit gazed outside, a thought struck him. The name "Aintraz" stirred recognition in his mind.
'She's from the Aintraz clan, huh?!. She must be a strong mage.'
The teacher's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Okay. Now that the introduction is over, you may take your seat."
Saiya returned to her desk as Armia retrieved a stack of papers from her bag. Seeing the test papers in her hands instantly shifted the mood of the room. Anxiety rippled through the class as whispers spread like wildfire.
"Silence!" Armia's firm tone cut through the murmurs as she dropped the papers onto the desk with a decisive thud. The sound commanded instant attention, and the room fell as silent as a desert.
"Good," she said with satisfaction. "Now, I will hand out your test results."
One by one, the students received their papers. Some faces lit up with joy, while others grew heavy with disappointment. The air was thick with tension.
But for some reason, Ingrit did not receive his paper. His heart sank. He wasn't the type to fail exams, even though he only studied at the last moment. A deep unease began to settle over him as he wondered what could have gone wrong.
So, it was undeniably shocking for him. But more than his own shock, he was consumed with worry about his parent. If his mom heard about this, things would undoubtedly become a living nightmare for Ingrit.
With a deeply concerned expression, he rose from his seat and said:
"Teacher, I didn't get my test paper yet."
She glanced at him with an impassive expression and replied,
"Meet me in the staff room after class."
He sank back into his chair, his uneasiness etched onto his face.
Saiya, sitting nearby, noticed his distress and smirked.
'Serves you right.'
When class ended, Ingrit nervously approached his homeroom teacher in the faculty lounge. She placed his test paper on the desk in front of him, her tone firm but calm as she asked,
"Who is the main heroine of the 'Tesar' novel?"
It was a straightforward question, one that had appeared in the exam—a question anyone could easily answer. With a confident expression, Ingrit replied,
"Ataila."
"Then why," she said, pointing to his paper, "did you write this instead?"
Ingrit leaned forward, curiosity mixed with apprehension, to see the answer she'd indicated. He was absolutely certain there was no way he could have written it incorrectly. But when his eyes landed on the words he'd scribbled down, his face turned ashen.
The answer he'd written was 'Armia Neumi'.
That was the name of the teacher standing in front of him.
His cheeks flushed red as he lowered his head, mortified.
'Oh, no. What have I done? Was I really so distracted that I wrote her name instead of the novel's heroine?!'
"Ahem. So, why did you write that?"
Unable to find any explanation, Ingrit kept his head down, silent and completely at a loss. He knew he had messed up spectacularly, and there was no escape from this embarrassment.
The teacher sighed, adjusted her glasses with a practiced motion, and said,
"You can take your paper. But make sure you don't make such a mistake again."
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
He grabbed his test paper, his face still tinged with pink.
"Also," she added, her tone softening just a little, "you are one of the best students in our school, you know. I can't help but feel like you're not taking your studies seriously. If you put in consistent effort, you could become one of the top students in the entire Cloud State and even receive scholarship to study abroad."
Ingrit flinched slightly at her words, as they hit closer to home than he wanted to admit. She was absolutely right—he only ever studied seriously before exams.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll do my best from now on," he replied earnestly.
As he left the room, clutching his paper, a renewed sense of determination surged within him. He felt as though he could conquer the entire world. But before he even made it home, he knew that determination would evaporate, leaving him to fall back into the comforting arms of his ever-reliable companion: procrastination. Just like every other night.
'What a strange boy.' Armia thought to herself.