The sprawling campus of my new federal university felt like a foreign country. I was a new, lone art student, navigating the maze of science departments in my new hostel, a stark contrast to my English Language Education program. My roommate, a science whiz, quickly found her tribe, leaving me to grapple with the unfamiliar on my own.
Among her newfound friends was Moses, a charismatic guy with a magnetic presence. He, in turn, had a close friend, Kendrick, who became a regular fixture in the hostel. Kendrick was…striking. He possessed that effortless charm and undeniable good looks that drew attention like a moth to a flame. I had a strict personal rule: steer clear of guys like that. The 'golden boys' – the ones who knew their appeal and basked in the constant attention – always seemed to bring drama.
Yet, Kendrick's frequent visits became a subtle highlight of my day. He'd drop by to see Moses, and come to my room to see my roommate and I'd casually join their conversations, tossing in a witty remark here and there. He'd linger, a comfortable presence in the room, and I found myself inexplicably drawn to his easygoing demeanor. I was careful to maintain a cool, detached facade, adhering to my rule and hiding any flicker of attraction. My pride wouldn't allow me to be another girl fawning over him.
The constant stream of girls who descended on our hostel, hoping for a glimpse of Kendrick, was a spectacle I watched with a mix of amusement and annoyance. They'd primp and preen, their attempts at flirting often bordering on desperation. Kendrick, however, remained remarkably composed, politely deflecting their advances or simply ignoring them. This quiet composure, this subtle resistance to the adoration, was oddly captivating. It made him seem different, more complex than the typical 'campus heartthrob.'"