Chapter 2: A Taste of Normal
1105 Words
The next few days passed in a blur of lectures, assignments, and increasing awareness of Ronald De Castro's presence on campus. His face was plastered across social media, the school newspaper had run a front-page article about him, and girls were "accidentally" dropping things near him just to get his attention.
Ciara found it all ridiculous. She had more important things to worry about—like her upcoming shift at The Brew, the campus coffee shop where she worked four days a week.
"You're lucky, you know," Kate said as they sat in the student union, sharing a plate of fries. "He's in three of your classes. I only get to see him in Economics."
Ciara sipped her water. "It's not luck. It's a curse. Do you know how distracting it is trying to focus when half the class is giggling and the other half is trying to get a photo of him?"
"Poor baby," Kate teased. "Forced to be in proximity to a gorgeous billionaire."
Ciara threw a fry at her. "He's not that special. He's just a guy."
"A guy who owns a gaming empire, drives a car worth more than this entire building, and looks like he stepped out of a magazine," Kate countered.
Before Ciara could respond, a commotion near the entrance caught their attention. Ronald had entered, followed by three equally attractive young men—the rest of the Crystal Gaming Group, according to Kate's frantic whispering.
"That's Trevon Williams, the strategy expert," Kate said, pointing to a tall Black man with an easy smile. "And that's Kingstone Chen, their tech genius. And the other one is Ivan Petrov, their weapons specialist."
"Weapons specialist?" Ciara raised an eyebrow. "They're playing video games, not conducting military operations."
Kate ignored her, too busy staring as the group made their way through the cafeteria. Girls approached them for selfies, guys nodded in respect, and professors pretended not to notice the disruption.
"They're coming this way," Kate hissed suddenly, gripping Ciara's arm.
Sure enough, Ronald and his entourage were heading straight for their table. Ciara groaned internally.
"Branford," Ronald greeted, stopping in front of their table. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "Cruz."
Kate looked like she might faint. "You know our names?"
Ronald smirked. "I make it a point to know interesting people."
Ciara crossed her arms. "And what makes us interesting?"
Ronald's gaze settled on her, intense and calculating. "You're the only person on this campus who looked at me like I was interrupting your day rather than making it."
Trevon let out a low whistle. "Damn, Ron, she really doesn't care, does she?"
"Refreshing, isn't it?" Ronald replied, not taking his eyes off Ciara.
She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Did you need something, or are you just here to block my sunlight?"
Kingstone laughed. "Oh, I like her."
Ronald's lips twitched into a half-smile. "We're having lunch. Thought you might want to join us."
Kate kicked Ciara under the table, her eyes wide with silent pleading.
"Thanks, but we were just leaving," Ciara said, gathering her books. "I have a shift at The Brew in ten minutes."
Ronald's eyebrow arched. "The coffee shop? You work there?"
"Some of us don't have billion-dollar trust funds," she replied, standing up.
Ivan grinned. "She's got fire. No wonder you're interested."
Ronald shot him a warning glance before turning back to Ciara. "Another time, then."
"Don't count on it," Ciara replied, grabbing her backpack. "Come on, Kate."
Kate, who had been silently gawking, reluctantly stood up. "It was nice meeting you all," she said, shooting them a dazzling smile.
As they walked away, Ciara could feel Ronald's eyes on her back.
"I can't believe you just blew them off," Kate whispered furiously as they exited the building. "Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?"
Ciara sighed. "I'm not interested in being another conquest for some rich playboy, Kate. I've got too much at stake."
Kate gave her a knowing look. "You think he's hot."
"I think he's trouble," Ciara corrected, though she couldn't deny the slight flutter in her stomach when those ocean-blue eyes had locked with hers.
Later that day, as Ciara was in the middle of her shift at The Brew, the bell above the door chimed. She looked up from the espresso machine and nearly dropped the cup she was holding.
Ronald De Castro had just walked in, alone this time, his presence immediately changing the atmosphere of the cozy shop.
"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath.
He approached the counter, his eyes scanning the menu though she doubted he was actually reading it.
"What can I get you?" she asked, her voice professionally detached.
He smiled, and damn him, it was a nice smile. "What do you recommend?"
"For you? Probably the most expensive thing on the menu."
He chuckled. "Fair assumption. But I'm actually more of a simple black coffee kind of guy."
Ciara blinked, slightly thrown off. "Really?"
"Really," he confirmed. "One black coffee, please. Medium."
As she prepared his order, she could feel his eyes on her. It was unnerving.
"So, Ciara Branford," he said casually, "What's your major?"
She glanced at him suspiciously. "English Literature. Why?"
He shrugged. "Just curious. I'm in three of your classes, after all."
"I noticed," she said dryly, placing his coffee on the counter. "That'll be $3.50."
He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. "Keep the change."
She frowned. "We have a tip jar right there."
"Consider it a personal tip, then."
"I don't need your charity."
Ronald leaned forward slightly. "It's not charity. It's appreciation for the only person on this campus who treats me like a normal human being."
Ciara hesitated, then reluctantly put the twenty in the register and placed his change on the counter. "Your coffee, Mr. De Castro."
He smiled as he picked up his cup. "Call me Ronald."
"I'll stick with De Castro," she replied.
He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving hers. "See you in class tomorrow, Branford."
As he turned to leave, Ciara couldn't help but call after him. "Why are you here?"
He paused, looking back at her with a raised eyebrow. "For coffee?"
"No," she clarified. "Here. At Westlake. You could be anywhere in the world."
A shadow crossed his face, so briefly she almost missed it. "Maybe I wanted a taste of normalcy for once."
Before she could respond, he was gone, leaving her with more questions than answers and the lingering scent of expensive cologne.
To
Be
Continued……
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