Sara sat in the lecture hall, her eyes fixed on her open notebook, but her mind? Completely absent.
The world around her blurred into a meaningless hum as she replayed the events from earlier. One moment, she was walking across the college grounds, and the next—bam—she was tangled up with a very good-looking boy.
Nothing made sense. She couldn't even recall how she had gotten to her seat.
Her fingers absently traced the edges of her notebook as the moment replayed in her mind—the collision.
The way her hands had instinctively clung to something solid, the intensity of his gaze, and the suffocating awareness that had followed.
Her thoughts were in complete disarray.
Just then—
"So, Sara, how does it feel to touch a boy for the first time?"
The voice was playful, teasing, and unmistakably Sana's.
The words hit like a slap.
A loud slap.
Sara's world froze.
Her eyes snapped wide open, and her head jerked toward Sana, who sat beside her with an impish grin, clearly amused at Sara's dazed state.
The class fell silent.
Heads turned, swiveling like owls, eyes glinting with curiosity and interest.
It was as if someone had just spilled a scandalous secret. The attention was suffocating.
A wave of heat crawled up Sara's neck as she gawked at Sana.
What. The. Hell.
Sana, realizing the gravity of her words a second too late, awkwardly scratched her cheek. "Oh, uh… she fell down, na… I was just teasing her! Nothing like you all think!" she hurriedly clarified, her voice stumbling over her words.
The class fell silent for a beat. Then, gradually, people lost interest and returned to their own conversations.
Sara exhaled sharply, still glaring at Sana. "You really are something," she muttered, rubbing her temple as if she had a headache. "And to answer your question, I didn't like it." She forced a blank stare, pretending she was completely unbothered, and started flipping open her books as if the incident had never happened.
But curiosity gnawed at her.
"Wait, Sana… you seem to know him? How?"
Sana casually replied, "Oh, him? That's Arshad. Saransh's childhood friend. He was the one who arranged our Bali trip."
Sara frowned. "Arranged?"
"Oh, ho! Remember?" Sana raised an eyebrow. "You really don't remember, do you? Saransh's childhood friend. The rich guy. The one who paid for all his friends' tickets just to celebrate his 21st birthday in Bali?"
Sara vaguely recalled Sana mentioning something about it months ago. Then she blinked. Oh… that guy.
Her expression shifted.
A rich boy who threw extravagant parties and took friends on lavish trips? That alone was enough for her to decide—he was not the kind of person she should be associating with. Someone whose world she had no place in. End of story.
And so, she drew a mental line.
This chapter of her life was closed.
Or so she thought.
Sara and Sana were chatting, still waiting for the professor, when Saransh called Sana. The moment his name flashed on her screen, Sana instantly packed up her things.
"I have to go," she said, hurriedly grabbing her bag.
Sara frowned. "Where to?"
"Saransh called! You know how it is, right? Please, please, please—this time, next time, I swear on your grandfather, I'll attend."
Sara deadpanned. "Sana, my grandfather is dead."
"If my grandfather hears this, he'll ask to die again because of how much you lie."
Sana clutched her hands together in fake prayer. "Please, please, Sara!"
Rolling her eyes, Sara sighed. "Fine. Last time."
As Sana dashed out, Sara finally started to relax.
She finally started to feel like she could breathe again.
She returned to studying, opened her books, and began to settle back into her
chair—
He walked in.
A single notebook in his hand.
Pen probably stuffed into the pocket of his jeans.
And his eyes?
Sharp. Focused.
Sara was oblivious at first, mumbling to herself, still lost in thought. But then—she noticed a shadow darkening the pages of her notebook.
She turned her head slightly, about to ask them to move, but the moment she looked up—
Her breath caught.
It was him.
Arshad.
Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second.
And then—
She blinked.
Before she could even process the moment, he spoke. "Can I sit here?"
Sara's brain went blank.
Her mind barely registered his words, but out of reflex—she nodded.
What did I just agree to?
The moment he moved his heels, she thought he was leaving.
Relief barely had a chance to settle before—
He sat down.
Next to her.
And all of a sudden, it felt like the room had closed in on her.
Sara stiffened. Wait, what?
Her eyes darted toward the empty seat. That's Sana's seat. Why is he—
Why was he sitting here? I haven't given him permission! Shouldn't he have asked first? Why isn't he leaving?
Then, he looked at her.
Sara blinked again.
A nervous laugh bubbled up before she could stop it, a rictus grin forming on her lips.
Okay. Just act normal.
She swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and finally turned toward him.
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah?" His voice was deep, laced with amusement.
"Umm… this seat, actually… it's my friend's. I mean, she could be running late, so—"
"I see." He nodded slowly. "But didn't you just tell me I could sit here?"
Sara frowned. Wait.
"W-When?"
He smiled. "Just now."
Realization dawned on her.
Oh.
She had nodded.
She had literally given him permission.
"Oh… uh… yes, yes! You can sit," she rushed to say, stumbling over her own words. "I was just… just… telling you… you see…"
What was wrong with her?! She wanted to slap herself.
She was sure he was giving her a what-the-heck look.
Deciding it was best to ignore his expression entirely, she turned away and buried herself in her books.
Outside?
All seemed calm.
Inside?
Absolute. Chaos.
Her body was frozen. Her heart pounded like a drum against her ribs. She could barely breathe.
She stole a glance at him. His presence was overwhelming. His face was mere inches away. The warmth of his body radiated next to hers, an invisible force pulling her in.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she gripped her pen, struggling to keep her composure.
Her mind screamed at her to focus, but all she could think about was—he's sitting next to me.
Stealing quick glances, she felt her face heat up, an embarrassing warmth spreading across her cheeks. Every nerve in her body was suddenly on fire.
This is not normal.
The entire lecture passed in a blur. She had no idea what the professor had said. The words floated around her, unintelligible, drowned out by the sheer intensity of her thoughts. She was too busy having a silent meltdown over the guy sitting next to her.
Then—the bell rang.
Sara exhaled sharply. Freedom!
She quickly gathered her books, relief washing over her. Finally, it's over.
But as she turned her head—
He was still there.
Elbow on the desk, cheek resting against his palm.
And staring.
At her.
Sara stiffened.
Why is he still here?!
Her lips twitched into an awkward, forced grin.
Then, in the smoothest motion possible—she gathered her books and ran.
No words.
No goodbye.
Just pure, unfiltered ESCAPE.
Panting, she leaned against a wall in the corridor and frantically dialed Sana's number.
"Where the heck are you?!" she hissed as soon as the call connected.
"In the cafeteria! Why? Did the class end?"
"No… I mean, yes. I'll be there."
She ended the call, still breathless, grumbling under her breath. Embarrassment and frustration churned in her stomach.
As she reached the cafeteria, she immediately spotted them—
Sana and Saransh, the couple of the year.
Always smiling.
Always together.
Always indulging in excessive PDA.
Sara cringed. If they could, they'd probably romance their way through the entire college.
"Sara! How are you?" Saransh waved enthusiastically.
"Oh, I was fine… until I saw you, my dear," she said flatly.
"Seriously, Saransh, why did you call Sana knowing we had morning classes?"
"Well, I wanted—"
Before he could finish, Sana quickly intervened, soothing Sara before she could strangle him. She pulled Sara into a seat and ordered food for them.
While Saransh casually ate his sandwich, Sara watched in mild disgust.
Then, as if issuing a challenge, she picked up a burger, stuffed the entire thing into her mouth, and dramatically chewed while glaring at him.
And then—
A deep voice.
"Saransh!"
Sara froze mid-chew.
Her eyes widened.
And just like that—she choked.
It was Arshad.
And at that moment—
As she desperately tried to swallow everything at once—
Sara realized she had made many bad decisions in life.
But stuffing an entire burger into her mouth right before Arshad walked into the cafeteria?
That was definitely high on the list.
Her eyes darted around in sheer panic as she frantically chewed, swallowed—anything to make sure she didn't look like a complete idiot in front of him.
But her throat betrayed her.
She lowered her head, covering her mouth, her mind racing.
Arshad approached their table.
Saransh, oblivious as ever, began introductions. "This is… you know, my maybe would-be…" He shyly gestured toward Sana.
"Ah! I remember. Sana, right?" Arshad said, offering her a polite nod.
Sana returned the nod with a small smile.
Then his gaze shifted.
"And this is—" Saransh turned to introduce Sara, only to freeze when he saw her face.
His eyes widened in panic. "Sara, what's wrong with you? Are you okay?" He nudged her, concern lacing his voice.
Can this man stop being so annoying? Sara thought bitterly. Just say I'm sick or something! Why does he have to be like this?
Suppressing the overwhelming urge to smack Saransh, she clenched her jaw, finally forcing herself to swallow.
Then—
She looked up.
Her gaze met his.
Arshad's dark eyes locked onto hers, unreadable yet curious.
Maintaining a perfectly blank expression, she stood up, still chewing, gave a frantic nod at Arshad, grabbed her bag, and—
Ran.
Again.
Arshad blinked, momentarily stunned. Then, as realization dawned on him, his lips slowly curled into an amused smirk.
He turned to Saransh, curiosity laced in his voice. "Does she always run away like that?"
Saransh frowned in confusion. "Sorry? What do you mean always?"
Arshad chuckled under his breath. "No, never mind."
Shaking his head, he pulled out a chair and took a seat, still smirking to himself.