003-DAY ONE
1271 Words
OLIVIA
The next morning, I drove Miya and myself to campus, regretting it almost immediately. I loved her, I really did, but that girl could talk for a living. About everything. About nothing. About the lip gloss she just bought and the barista who, according to her, “definitely winked twice, not once.”
I tried to hum along to the radio, hoping she’d take the hint, but she didn’t. Miya kept going, cheerful as a songbird who didn’t know how to shut up.
“Are you even listening?” she asked, smacking my shoulder.
“Totally,” I lied, eyes on the road.
“Then what did I just say?”
“That… you’re getting your nails done later?”
“Wrong. I said, if you really want Jordan Rivers to fall for you, you need to make him see you.”
I laughed under my breath. “I think he already did. Yesterday, he looked at me like he’d seen a ghost.”
She gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, maybe he’s psychic. Or maybe you’re his type.”
I rolled my eyes and pulled into the campus parking lot. “Please. Every guy thinks I’m his type until I open my mouth.”
Miya snorted. “That’s probably true.”
We walked toward the building, and my nerves started humming. I didn’t know why I was this nervous—it was just a dare. A silly little challenge. But there was something about Jordan Rivers that made my chest feel heavy.
Maybe it was how he’d looked at me yesterday, that mix of shock and fear. Or maybe it was how he’d walked away like touching me might burn him. Either way, I wanted answers.
When we got to class, he was already there. Front row. Alone, of course.
I looked at Miya. “Should I?”
“Girl, you made me sit through your outfit crisis for thirty minutes this morning. Go.”
I smoothed my dress, pasted on my most effortless smile, and walked straight toward him. He didn’t look up until I was right beside him.
“Hi,” I said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I didn’t want to come off too strong. I could be gentle when I wanted to be.
He glanced up, and for a second, I thought he wasn’t going to reply. Then his gaze hit mine, and there it was again—the same look from yesterday. Like he’d seen something he couldn’t explain.
“Is anyone sitting here?” I asked, pointing to the empty seat beside him.
He said nothing. Not a word. Just stared straight ahead like I was invisible.
Okay, rude.
“Well, I’ll just take that as a no,” I said and sat down, ignoring the fact that every muscle in his body seemed to tense.
He shifted, like he wanted to stand, but I reached out and gently caught his arm. “It’s fine. I can stand if you want—”
“No,” he said quickly, voice deep and low. “You can sit.”
Yes. Step one: accomplished.
I smiled, feeling a little spark of victory. “Thanks. I’m Olivia, by the way.”
He turned his head slightly, those dark eyes flicking to mine. “Jordan.”
“I know,” I blurted out before realizing how that sounded. “I mean, I heard people talking about you yesterday.”
His brow creased, and then he asked the strangest thing. “Olivia… what’s your last name?”
“Carter,” I said, smiling automatically. “Olivia Carter.”
His face drained of color like I’d just told him something terrifying.
“Are you okay?” I asked, but he was already staring at me like the world had tilted off its axis.
He whispered my name again. “Olivia Carter…” like he was testing it, or maybe reliving it.
“Yeah,” I said, frowning. “Do you know me or something?”
Instead of answering, he reached out and touched my hand. Just barely—his fingers grazed mine, soft and uncertain. The moment our skin met, his breath hitched. His entire body stiffened, like that tiny touch hurt.
And then, he jerked his hand back as if I’d burned him.
“Jordan?”
He stood up so fast his chair scraped the floor. “I have to go.”
“What? Class hasn’t even started—”
But he was already halfway out the door.
I stared after him, completely thrown off.
What the hell was that?
Miya gave me a look across the room, mouthing, What happened? I shrugged helplessly and bolted after him. I wasn’t letting him disappear again.
By the time I reached the hallway, he was halfway down the corridor. “Hey!” I called, running up to him. “Wait up!”
He stopped, but didn’t turn around.
I grabbed his arm and spun him toward me. “Seriously, what’s your problem?”
“Let me go,” he said quietly, eyes full of something I couldn’t name.
I crossed my arms. “No. You walked out of class the second I sat beside you. You touch me, freak out, then bolt like I have the plague. You owe me an explanation.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t owe you anything.”
I blinked. “Wow. Okay. I was just trying to be nice.”
He looked at me then—really looked. His eyes were dark, haunted, and way too intense for a simple college guy. “You don’t understand,” he said. “I don’t need friends. Especially not you.”
That one stung.
I stepped back, trying to keep my voice steady. “You don’t even know me.”
He gave a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’d be surprised.”
And then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing in the hallway like an i***t.
For a second, I considered running after him again, demanding answers. But no. If he wanted to act like some mysterious jerk, fine. I wasn’t going to beg for his attention.
Still, as I walked back toward class, I couldn’t shake the look in his eyes. The way his voice had trembled when he said my name. It wasn’t nothing.
Miya caught up with me, panting. “Girl, what happened? You ran out like a scene from a drama series.”
“He’s impossible,” I said, frustrated. “Rude, cold, emotionally unavailable—probably allergic to human contact.”
“Perfect,” she said with a grin. “You love a challenge.”
I groaned. “No, I don’t. I hate challenges.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Then why do you look like you’re thinking about him right now?”
I rolled my eyes, grabbing my bag. “Because I’m wondering if he’s actually crazy or just socially constipated.”
“Maybe both.”
We both burst into laughter, but deep down, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way he’d said my name. The look in his eyes—I can’t figure him out.
When class ended, I didn’t see him anywhere. I waited, pretending to scroll through my phone, but he didn’t show up again. Maybe he really was avoiding me.
Fine. Let him hide.
He had no idea who he was dealing with.
Still, I wasn’t ready to quit. Not after one bad day.
“Thirty days,” I whispered to myself. “I can make anyone fall in love in thirty days.”
- Writer
