Intertwined Destinies

CHAPTER THREE

ABIGAIL

The council meeting focuses on the new guy, and while some teachers and even the dean ask him question after question, to which he answers in monosyllables and without the slightest intention of delving into them, I feel his gaze resting on me in more than one occasion, making me feel very self-conscious, especially for what I am wearing today, a light blue knit sweater, white jeans, and white tennis shoes, while he looks like a character out of a motorcycle movie or something like that.

His gaze starts to make me nervous, especially when the council members start to get annoyed with his attitude and it is clear that they are going to suspend him for at least one semester, which would be bad enough for any student, but he seems even more concerned than I thought possible, considering his attitude when he walked into the boardroom, he now seems sorry for being rude.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound like an i***t, I promise I won't create any more problems from now on, but please don’t suspend me,"

"Mr. Moore, if it weren't for your outstanding academic level, believe me at this point we would be informing you of your final expulsion from the university," the dean tells him.

“We need to get some commitments from you today,” one of the teachers tells him.

"Yes, of course, whatever you ask," he replies.

“You will have to attend all your classes, in addition to agreeing to give free tutoring twice a week to students who request it,” the dean informs him.

"Tutoring?" he asks in confusion.

"I think Miss Smith can explain you better about this, she is part of the program too, aren’t you, Abigail?" the dean asks me, and I nod, in a tense matter, for now, the boy seems to be drilling into my brain with his intense gaze on me.

"If you meet these commitments, we will review your stay at the university, otherwise you will leave immediately and this will be on your resume permanently," the dean informs him, and he nods obediently.

After that, the boy leaves, but the rest of us stay to discuss other matters, although I really can't focus on anything right now, because his gray eyes keep appearing in my head, looking at me with intensity, and I try, unsuccessfully, to forget about it all, but fate has a way of playing with your life, and when I leave the boardroom, I hear footsteps rushing toward me.

"Hey, you!" I hear someone calling me, and I turn to the source of the sound.

"Sorry, I forgot to ask for your number," the boy, I think his last name is Moore, tells me.

"Excuse me?" I ask confused.

"Well, the dean said you could help me with the tutoring issue and you agreed to do it, so I assumed we should be able to communicate somehow, but if you don't want to give me your number then I think we should at least exchange emails," he replies, as if we had known each other forever.

"No, it's okay, I will give you my number," I tell him, reaching out my hand to him so that he can give me his phone and I can save my number on it, and he seems a bit hesitant at first, but then he gives it to me with an awkward expression.

I take in my hand a phone that is already quite outdated, since at least five versions have come out after this one, and it also has a broken screen, so it is a bit difficult to maneuver, however, I refrain from making any comment and after saving my number, I return it to him and say:

"Well, goodbye," before turning to head to my next class.

"No, wait," he tells me, getting too close to me, and in less than two seconds my bodyguard, who usually stays a few meters away, is at his side looking at him with an annoyed expression.

"Al, it’s okay, he is not bothering me, don't worry," I tell him, and he nods before walking away, but he shoots the boy a warning look first.

“Do you have a bodyguard? Who are you? The president's daughter?" he says mockingly to me, and I raise an eyebrow at him before starting to walk again.

"Hey, don't go, excuse me, I didn't mean to be rude," he tells me.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" I ask in a scathing tone.

"I am Ezra, nice to meet you," he tells me, reaching out his hand to me, and I doubt for a moment whether to take it or not, but finally I put my hand on his, and I can swear I feel ticklish in the spot where my skin touches his.

"I am Abigail," I reply.

"I know," he tells me, and I frown in confusion.

"I mean, I heard the dean call you that before," he quickly corrects himself.

"I have to go to class," I tell him with a slight smile.

"Oh yeah right, do you want me to walk with you?" he asks me, and I look at him in surprise.

Is he flirting with me?

But before he can answer, a blonde girl approaches him and without saying a word kisses him on the lips, then smiles at him and says in a sharp and annoying tone:

"I was waiting for you in the cafeteria, baby, we were supposed to meet there half an hour ago, remember?" she tells him, and he looks at me awkwardly.

But I decide not to stay to interrupt his moment that is clearly quite intimate, and I turn to resume my way to class, feeling a slight discomfort, but I have no idea why.

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