The Alpha Who Wants Me Back

Chapter 4

Krista’s POV:

“I swear, I’m dropping out”. Just a week at university, and I’ve already had a nervous breakdown, a caffeine overdose and a personal squabble with a professor.

Aizal laughed so hard, she almost spilled her iced latte. We were sitting on a bench, in the main lawn outside the central library.

“If only you’d picked up the same major as me, you wouldn’t be laughing at my misery right now”, I gave her a side-eye.

Aizal wasn’t interested in STEM fields at all, so she decided to pursue Design and Architecture.

“Krista you’re being dramatic again”, she said between sips.

I justified, “I’m not being dramatic. The man looks at me like I’d spoiled the ending of his favourite show.”

She snorted. I groaned and covered my face with my arm.

“Tell me again”, she said, “Suddenly, I want to hear the whole story again”.

“You’ve already heard it for like…thousand times”, I snarled at her.

“Yeah. But your version gets funnier every time”, she said giggling.

I sighed, “Fine. So, I walked into class. Right? Already nervous. And Boom! The guy from the club walked in. Looking like he just came back from a parliament meeting”.

Aizal gasped, “The same guy you tripped on?”

“Yes. The very same”, I answered.

She shouted, “No way!”

I added, “And guess what. He’s my…Professor.”

She wheezed, “OMG girl! You’re doomed.”

“Yes, I know”, I let out a sigh.

She took another theatrical sip of her latte, “Wait, wait, what happened then?”

I looked at her aggressively, “Oh come on, Aizal. Enough of this now.”

She paused for a few seconds, but couldn’t hold it. She started again, “Okay…but like, be honest. He’s hot. Isn’t he?”

I hesitated. She wasn’t wrong after all. He was an epitome of masculinity and extremely handsome.

She winked at me, “I’m kinda jealous.”

I looked at her surprisingly, “Jealous? Of what? The emotional trauma? The man who treats you like you’ve personally offended his ancestors?”

“No. I mean…I’m stuck with a sixty-year-old balding man who still delivers his lectures like it’s 90’s”, she started tickling me, “You, on the other hand, have a ridiculously attractive professor, who looks nothing less than the protagonist of an 18+ webtoon.”

“Oh my God. Let me live through your chaos”, she spoke in silly rhymes.

I burst into laughter, “Oh Aizal. You’re unbelivable.”

Aizal had this galling gift of making everything feel lighter.

Just then, her eyes widened. She sat up straighter, “Speak of the devil, literally.”

She nudged me, “Look. Over there. Near the west building.”

I followed her gaze. Prof. Zevaric was headed towards the faculty building.

Teal-coloured shirt, hands in pockets, eyes locked forward, the usual rational aura. There was something about the way he walked, deliberate and graceful.

“Holy Hell”, Aizal whispered, “The man is carved out of amethyst.”

“Put your eyes back in your head”, I mouthed, “I admit that he’s so fine, but he’s a professor. Have some decency girl.”

“Look who’s saying!”, Aizal looked at me with naughty eyes.

He passed within an earshot. His gaze flicked towards us for a split second. Just a flick. No smile. No nod. Just…recognition. And then he walked away.

Aizal let out a breath like she’d been holding it for ten minutes, “He’s terrifying”.

I mumbled, “Took you long enough to understand!”

“But hot…” She added.

Oh! this girl…all my explaining went down the drain.

“You know what?” I commanded, “Let’s go for lunch before you start writing fan-fiction.”

__________

“How’s university going?” Dad asked at the dinner table.

Tired of the day, I pressed my lips into a thin line and nodded, “It’s good.”

Besides having my favourite white sauce penne pasta in front of me, I couldn’t eat much. After a few bites, and playing with the fork, I stood up, and wished the parents good night before heading upstairs.

The night pressed gently against the windowpane. With one arm folded under my head, I was tracing idle shapes with the finger of my other hand on the blanket.

I should’ve been asleep by now. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Professor Zevaric.

Maybe I was just overthinking. Maybe this whole strange mess would fade away, and he’d go back to just being another professor with a scowl.

But even as I told myself, there was something about him. Something heavy, like he was holding in for very long, something enraged, something…painful.

And it had my name written all over it. Somehow, I felt like it had everything to do with me.