Chapter 2
1170 Words
ROWAN
The lecture wasn’t that long.
Or maybe it was.
Time felt strange when my mind refused to stay in one place. The lecturer spoke steadily at the front of the room, but his words slipped past me, refusing to settle. I tried to focus — honestly — but it was like my thoughts were deliberately rebelling.
Two things made it impossible.
The whispers behind me never stopped.
At first, they were just murmurs, barely audible, but as minutes passed, I could actually hear what people were saying.
“Is he new?”
“He definitely doesn’t look like he’s from here.”
“Why does he look like that?”
I shifted slightly in my seat, jaw tightening. I didn’t turn around. I never did. Acknowledging it only made things worse, and I’d learned that lesson years ago.
Still, it was exhausting.
But the whispers weren’t the main reason my focus kept drifting.
That honor belonged to the girl in the corner.
She sat on the far right side of the lecture hall, back row, near the window. Headphones in. Shoulders relaxed. Pen moving steadily across her notebook like she had nowhere else to be and nothing else to worry about.
She didn’t look at me.
Not when I walked in and the room shifted.
Not when the whispering grew louder.
Not even when the lecturer paused awkwardly, clearly aware that half the class wasn’t paying attention.
She was completely absorbed in her own world.
first, I assumed it was an act. People often pretended not to notice, hiding curiosity behind carefully practiced indifference. But minutes passed. Then more. And still — nothing.
She never stole a glance.
Not once.
And for reasons I couldn’t explain, that unsettled me.
Not because I felt offended. Not because I wanted her attention. It was something else entirely — confusion, maybe. A quiet disruption.
How could someone be so detached from the chaos around them? How could she not notice?
Without meaning to, I found myself looking in her direction again. Then again.
The way she tucked her hair behind her ear without lifting her gaze. The faint crease between her brows as she concentrated. The calm she carried like armour.
It felt intrusive to observe her, yet impossible not to.
Before I could dwell on it too much, a tap on my shoulder snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Lunch time, bro. Let’s go.”
Jason.
I looked up at him as he slung his bag over his shoulder, energy radiating from him like he hadn’t just sat through the same draining lecture.
I glanced around.
The room was almost empty.
My eyes drifted — without permission — toward the corner.
Her seat was empty.
I frowned slightly before standing and following Jason out.
Jason talked the entire walk to the cafeteria.
I caught bits and pieces — complaints about lectures, jokes about professors, animated commentary about the basketball team — but most of it blended into background noise. My attention kept slipping away, dragged elsewhere by the stares that followed us through the hallway.
They lingered.
Tracked.
Evaluated.
“Are you sure all this goes away?” I asked suddenly, breaking the flow of Jason’s chatter.
He glanced at me. “Yeah. Eventually. Depends on the person, though.”
“How long?” I asked.
Jason grinned. “For you? Might take a while.”
I stopped walking. “Why?”
He looked me over like the answer was obvious. “Have you seen yourself?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Man, you’re good-looking,” he said easily. “I mean, I’m not bad myself — but you? Tall, built, handsome. You and I make a pretty solid team.”
I exhaled sharply. “Dude. I thought something was wrong with me. You scared me.”
Jason laughed. “Relax. Anyway, you should join the basketball team. You’d be a perfect fit.”
Before I could protest, he grabbed my arm and steered me toward a table at the far end of the cafeteria.
The table filled up fast. Too fast. People pulled chairs closer. Questions flew from every direction.
“Where are you from?”
“What year are you?”
“Are you really joining the team?”
“Here, take my number.”
I answered politely. Briefly. Carefully.
When I turned to Jason for help, he was gone.
Typical.
Just as the crowd became overwhelming, he reappeared, shooing people away with exaggerated gestures so I could finally eat.
"wheww ..I thought they were going to eat me alive"
" well welcome to the popularity sector"
"you did this on purpose right"
"mmhu not exactly but I mean handsome men deserve to be on the basketball dont they...oh here comes the cheerleaders was wondering when they will show up.." he said laughing as he dug into his food leaving me surrounded
I leaned back slightly and let my gaze drift among the chaos across the cafeteria and
That’s when I saw her
Carrying her books and leaving the cafeteria in abit of a hurry completely ignoring the noise and gathered people around me
ARIA
My phone vibrated just as I finished eating.
I frowned, pulling it out .
A notification from the student portal.
Reminder: Department Orientation & Club Registration — 3:30 p.m., Hall B. Attendance recommended for third-year students.
I groaned quietly.
“I forgot about this,” I muttered.
Stacy looked up. “Forgot about what?”
“Club registration. Department briefing.”
She snorted. “Good luck with that. I’m skipping.”
“Must be nice,” I replied, standing and slinging my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
The afternoon dragged on endlessly.
Hall B was packed — voices overlapping, chairs shifting, representatives taking turns at the podium, talking about clubs, research groups, volunteering, leadership opportunities. I scribbled notes without much enthusiasm, my attention fading as fatigue crept in.
By the time the meeting ended, my head throbbed..
Third year came with responsibilities no one warned you about — projects, research, expectations layered one on top of another. As students filtered out of the hall, I checked my course portal again.
The assignment deadline glared back at me.
I wasn’t going home yet.
I needed somewhere quiet. Somewhere I could think.
The library.
The walk there felt slower, heavier.
Evening had settled over campus, lights flickering on as the sky deepened into blue. Inside the library, the familiar hush greeted me, easing the tension in my shoulders.
I moved toward the computer section, scanning for a free spot.
That was when I saw him.
He stood near the shelves, a textbook in hand, posture relaxed but alert — his hair a bit messy. He turned just as I slowed.
Our eyes met.
It wasn’t dramatic.
It wasn’t loud.
But it was real.
For a brief moment, the world narrowed to that space between us and I dont know why but I found myself holding my breath.
- Writer
