It's Not Him, It's You

Chapter Nine: He's Maxwell

Will you believe me if I tell you that I have successfully ignored just fine all texts and calls from Scion? Of course, you won’t. But (insert an evil laugh), I did successfully stop seeing him until the weekends. Three days is a start. Trust me.

Only 2 days away before it’s Christmas break and I packed all the things I need to bring before I started finishing my reaction paper. This is due today, so I have to finish this, print this, and submit this before 4 pm to my professor.

Later on, I bring out my printer and bond papers to print the file when such an angel printer started paper jamming.

“What?! But you were just working fine the last time I used you! Come on! Not now!” I ranted as annoyance crept into my head. After trial and error, it stopped paper jamming, however, the output has inkblot at the paper’s corners which made me more even stressed.

So, I gave up. I turn my printer off, dress up in my comfortable clothes, and decided to go to the university library. If you bring your own paper, printing is free. Yey! I love free.

Fifteen minutes later, I was walking down the squeaky clean, and ominously silent halls of the library. I went to the printing room and thankfully, no one is using the other booth. As I wait for my files to be completely printed, I went out of the room for a bit to see some books.

After five minutes, I was bringing seven books in my arms. They are so heavy that I think I’ll break my back. I placed it first at the desk near my bag while I settle my reaction papers.

I carefully carried my things with the book out of the booth and went to the librarian to register the books. Hey, good news, I got no bad record in the library. I always return my book in time.

The librarian, Mrs. Hudson, gave me that stern stare before she gave me a slip. With all my might, I went out of the library and down to its staircases. It was so hard because the books are slightly blocking the view in front of me so I have to tilt my head first to have a clearer view.

I was finally at the bottom of the stairs when someone nudged me, resulting in total chaos of the books and my reaction papers. The books I just borrowed were clattered at the ground and I can’t believe that guy just continued passing by as nothing happened.

To my anger, I pick up the nearest book I could get and threw it at his head making him stop, scratch his head, and pivoted to find that person who just threw him a thick book. I don’t care if we're in front of the library, I won’t let this guy off without giving him any punishment.

Our eyes met and I realized that he was the cocky guy from before. The guy who helped me find the admin’s office. He’s wearing his headphone again.

“Did you just throw me that book?” he pointed the book in front of him with an annoyed expression.

“I just did, didn’t I?” I snap, then I realized, my reaction papers!

Why do I feel like I am the one being punished?

“No, no, no, no, no,” I panicked as I pick up the papers on the ground when suddenly, the winter breeze blew hard and my paper went flying up, down to the fountain.

“NO!” by the time I was at the fountain, it was already sinking. It’s hopeless.

“No…” I said, almost crying. I picked up the paper from the fountain’s basin and from that moment, I just wanna cry. And yeah, I did.

I covered my face with both of my palms and silently cried. I heard a couple of footsteps went near me.

“H-hey, I’m sorry but—are you crying?” his voice tone suddenly changed into a soft one. I aggressively shake my head to deny that I’m crying.

“This is all your fault,” I sobbed and sat on my feet. “It’s due today and my printer’s not working and now…” I sighed and cried so much.

I heard him sighed deeply, “Of course, when will my day gets better?” he muttered particularly to himself. I felt him crouched to level himself to me, “Look, is there something I can do to make it up to you?”

 “You should watch where you going! The worst thing you did is you just passed by as nothing happened!” I yelled at him at the top of my lungs which made him recoil.

Still crying, I ignored him and started picking up my books. I should have put my reaction papers inside my bag! I’m such a fool!

He suddenly started picking a few books, too. “Where are you headed? I’ll help you carry these books,” he said in his monotonous voice. “Or do you want me to print it for you? I’ll go back inside the library and print it. Just give me your flash drive or a copy of this file,”

It’s hard to tell if he’s being sincere or what because I can see no life in his eyes.

“And now you want to help? Was it because I cried or because you finally realized that it’s your fault?” I can’t help but snap at him every now and then.

He sighed and frustratingly brush his hair with his hands, “Look, I’m sorry…I was just having…a bad day,” he said. “I was so absorbed with my problems that I didn’t even notice you ahead,” he explained which made me calm down.

“You’re forgiven. It’s not like I can carry this grudge around forever,” I muttered. “Thanks for the offer but I can handle this myself,” I was about to get my books from his hands but he dodged.

“I’ll carry your books until you get to your final destination, is that fine with you?” he made the deal.

I took a deep breath, “Fine. Whatever,” I said and climbed the stairs again back to the library. After almost ten minutes, I went out with another clean set of reaction papers. He was at the bottom of the stairs with my books in his arms.

It seems like he was telling the truth. He’s thinking so hard right now that he didn’t even notice me approached him.

“Hey…uh,” I started. He quickly snaps out of his trance and stood up beside me. He’s so tall that I have to look up at him.

“I have to pass this on to my professor at the English Lit College department. I think I can manage now—”

“Just lead the way. I keep my promises,” he suddenly muttered meaningfully.

“Okay,” I answered and started walking. He silently walked beside me as we went to the fields.

While we were walking, I noticed a bandage on his middle finger. I think he writes a lot with his hands that it just hurt like that.

To lessen the weight of the atmosphere between us, I said, “You like writing with your hands, do you?” I said without bothering of looking at him.

I saw him at the side of my eyes look at me and turned away, “Helps me remember everything I have to remember,”

“That’s interesting,” I said.

“Isn’t that we all do?”

“Nope, because I use flashcards to remember important key points and terms. Maybe writing was one of the factors but I believe my flashcard is the most effective one,”

“That’s so traditional if you don’t mind me saying,”

“I don’t mind it. Everyone keeps telling me I’m so traditional at everything when I’m not really. It is just what I am used to doing. Oh, we're here,” I said as we step foot at the marble staircase. I noticed that some girls keep looking at me and the guy next to me.

“Uhm, would you mind if I ask you to stay here outside? I’ll just meet you when I’m out,” I said.

He just nodded and pointed to the bench near the maple tree. I can’t help but laugh which made him crease his forehead, “What’s funny?” he asks.

“Nothing. I just can’t help but wonder why you love pointing at things when you can just easily tell me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I bet you don’t remember me, do you?”

“Have we met before?”

I nodded, “Admin’s office. I asked you to tell me where I might find the admin’s office. I guess you don’t remember,” I awkwardly laugh.

His face slightly lit up, “No, I do. It’s just that your hair that day was…braided,” he cleared his throat and suddenly looked away.

“Really? Was it really hard to recognize me due to my hairstyle? That’s interesting,” I grinned because I found it complimenting. “Anyway, I’ll get going,” I said and trudged through the halls of my college department.

Thankfully, my professor was still in his office, so it was just a piece of cake and went so quickly. When I got out, I saw him on the bench with my books beside him but he was talking to a girl. I can see in their expressions that they are having a serious talk.

“Should I wait for the girl to go away before I approach him or should I approach him, get my books, say thank you, and then leave? I guess the latter sounds like a nice option,” I talked to myself.

“What is wrong with you, Maxwell?” I heard the girl ask the guy, which I now presumed, named Maxwell.

“Uh, excuse me?” I said particularly to both of them. The girl quickly stopped talking and both of them snap their head at me. I ignored the girl menacingly stares and look at Maxwell, “Hey, uh, thanks for the help but I guess I can take this from now. I really appreciate your kindness and…I don’t want to interrupt you too any longer, so…” I trailed and carefully carried the books though; I admit they were so heavy.

When I successfully carried the books in my arms, Maxwell stood up with a deep sigh and easily grab the books from me, “I told you that I’m going to carry these until to your final destination. Where are you heading next?”

“No! It’s okay! I-I’m going home anyway—”

“Then let’s go,”

The girl stood up, “You’re leaving already? With this girl? Were not yet done talking, Maxwell!” she complained which I understand.

“We have nothing to talk about, Tori. Just go,” he snaps coldly to the girl and suddenly grabs my hand with his free hand away from her.

“Who is she?” I ask as we walk with his hand still holding mine.

“My fiancé,” he said with a straight face.

I choked, “What? You’re engaged? At your age, weight, how old are you anyway? If you don’t mind me asking,”

“It was a fixed engagement and I’m 21,” he said.

“Oh, your two years my senior,”

“But I’m a freshman like you,”

“Then, what happened to the last academic years?”

He suddenly stops, let go of my hand, and narrowed his eyes at me. I guess I went overboard. We just met and I’m already asking a lot of questions about him. “I’m sorry. I may have gone overboard. Just ignore me,” I laugh, hoping it would drop this unusual coldness between us.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he kept walking again. But suddenly, he spoke, “I have never spoken so much about myself to anyone before,”

I innocently look at him, “Why is that?”

“Because there’s nothing interesting to talk about me,”

“Or you’re just being a sociopath,” I chuckled. “But I guess you have a soft heart to people crying,” I look up at him which I found him seriously looking down at me, too. “You must not like seeing other people cry,” I observed.

“Crying is a human’s way of saying that they feel guilty or they want other people to feel guilty,” he meaningfully said.

“Are you implying that I cried because I want to feel you guilty?”

“Are you not?”

“Of course not! I cried because I was frustrated!”

“And yet you still put the blame on me,”

“Of which you should be accountable of,”

He stopped walking again to look at me. “What’s your name, again?”

“Nikola,”

He just nodded and continued walking. That’s it? This weirdo. “Hey, are you sure you’re going to carry this up to my apartment? Because you don’t need to if you don’t want to,” I said.

“That day we first met, by any chance, are you hiding from Scion Pail?”

I froze and utterly smitten by his sudden question. “Why d’you ask?” I cautiously ask.

“Why are you hiding from him?”

“That is private,”

“I just told you that I’m engaged,” he deadpanned.

“And so? It’s not like I forced you to tell me the truth!” I complained but he didn’t remove his eyes from me. “Okay, okay! I’m hiding from him because I just want to,” I guess, that’s enough?

“What a valid reason,” he sarcastically said. “Are you his girlfriend?”

My eyes widen, “What? No, of course not!”

“Whatever,” he sighed and suddenly started walking fast.

“Wait a minute, Maxwell! Where are we going? This is not the way out of the university,”

“This is the way to the parking lot,”

“I’m well aware of that,”

“Good,”

“Then, why are we going this way?”

“To get my car? You don’t expect me to carry this all the way to your apartment by foot, do you?”

I was expecting that. I blushed to my embarrassment, “O-of course not,” I denied, shaking my head.

“Denial,” he muttered and I don’t know if it’s just my imagination but I just saw him smirk and it quickly fades away.

“No, I’m not,” I yelled back at him because his feet away from me now.