Tease Me, Sir [Completed]

Chapter 1: They Met Again

Years passed—five long years—but Maxine couldn't shake the ghost of Noah Castellanos. His disappearance, leaving only unanswered questions and a gaping wound in her heart, remained a constant ache. Now, in Manila, she stood on the precipice of a new life, a scholarship at a prestigious university her hard-earned ticket to a future she'd only dared to dream of. Yet, the weight of her past clung to her, making even the pristine halls of the university feel oppressive.

She'd worked tirelessly, scrubbing floors and cleaning toilets, saving every peso to achieve this. The life of a maid had been hard, but it had fueled her determination. This scholarship was more than just an education; it was her rebellion, her escape from a life she'd refused to accept.

The university buzzed with activity. Privileged students, dressed in designer clothes, whispered and laughed, their gazes lingering on Maxine, a stark reminder of her different background. She clutched her worn bag, feeling the familiar sting of self-consciousness. The scent of expensive perfume and the polished floors felt alien, a stark contrast to the smells and textures of her past life.

Finding her classroom, she slid into a seat by the window, her heart pounding a nervous rhythm against her ribs. The pre-lecture chatter was a cacophony of voices, a symphony of privilege she felt excluded from. A group of girls giggled, their manicured nails tapping against their expensive laptops. One, with platinum blonde hair and a disdainful smirk, tossed her head, her eyes briefly meeting Maxine's before drifting away with a subtle sneer.

"Hey, is this seat taken?"

A voice cut through the noise, pulling Maxine from her self-imposed isolation. She looked up to see a girl with vibrant auburn hair, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. Her clothes were stylish but not ostentatious, a refreshing contrast to the others.

"No, you can sit," Maxine replied, her voice barely a whisper.

The girl, Ashley, settled beside her, her books thudding onto the desk. "You're new, right? I haven't seen you around."

Maxine nodded, feeling a flicker of hope. "Yeah, first day."

"Thought so. You've got that 'I've just escaped a lion' look," Ashley teased, her eyes twinkling. "I'm Ashley, by the way. Ashley Fuentes."

"Maxine. Maxine Rylee Nievez," she replied, a tentative smile gracing her lips.

"From the province, huh?" Ashley asked, her gaze observant but not judgmental.

Maxine stiffened, the familiar sting of being an outsider returning. "Y-yeah."

"Relax, I don't mean anything by it," Ashley reassured her, waving a hand dismissively. "I think it's cool. City life is overrated anyway. Besides, the best people I know are from the provinces. They're real."

Maxine managed a genuine smile this time. "Yeah... maybe."

Ashley grinned. "Well, stick with me. I'll introduce you to the others. We're a pretty good bunch. We'll make sure you survive this jungle."

Before Maxine could respond, a hush fell over the room. The door opened, and he walked in.

Noah Castellanos.

Taller, more composed, his presence commanded immediate attention. He was different, yet exactly the same; the sharp angles of his jaw, the intensity of his gaze, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead—all painfully familiar. He set down a stack of papers, connecting a small device to the screen, his movements precise and confident. Then, his gaze swept the room, pausing for a fraction of a second on Maxine.

A flicker of recognition, a barely perceptible tremor in his usually composed demeanor, and then—nothing. He looked away, his expression carefully neutral, as if she were a stranger, a ghost from a life he'd chosen to forget. The air thickened, the vibrant energy of the room draining away, replaced by a suffocating silence.

"Good morning, class," he said, his voice—that voice she had once loved, that had whispered promises she still couldn't erase—filling the room.

"Good morning, Sir," the students replied in unison.

Maxine's breath caught in her throat. Her hands clenched, her knuckles white. The lecture began, but she didn't hear a word. His presence was a physical weight, each breath a painful reminder of the past. She felt Ashley's concerned gaze, but she couldn't bring herself to speak.

The class ended in a blur. As Noah dismissed them, Maxine bolted from her seat, a mumbled apology to Ashley escaping her lips as she rushed after him. She needed answers. She found him in a quiet corridor, his back to her, walking away as he always had.

"Noah," she called out, her voice trembling.

He stopped, but didn't turn. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved pain. Then, slowly, he faced her. His expression was unreadable, his eyes holding a chilling distance.

"Maxine," he said, her name sounding foreign, detached. The way he said it, like a stranger reciting a name from a list, was a physical blow.

The dam broke. Tears streamed down her face, hot and angry. "Why, Noah? Why did you leave me?" The words tumbled out, raw and desperate, a torrent of pent-up emotion.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Maxine—"

"No," she cut him off, her voice rising. "You don't get to just walk away again. I never got an explanation. Not a single word. Then I find out—on the day of 'your' wedding—that you were getting married? To someone else?" Her voice cracked, but she pressed on, fueled by years of suppressed pain. "I loved you, Noah. And you just... disappeared."

His gaze flickered, but his face remained composed, a mask of practiced indifference. "Low your voice lady!... It wasn't my choice," he said, his voice low and controlled.

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Don't lie to me. You could have fought for us. You could have 'told' me."

His eyes darkened, a flicker of something—pain? Regret?—crossing his features before he quickly masked it again. "You don't understand, Maxine."

"Then make me understand!" she shouted, her voice echoing down the empty hallway. "God, Noah, if you had just told me you didn't love me anymore, maybe I could have moved on. But you never even gave me that. You left me with nothing but a broken heart and five years of unanswered questions." The years of scrubbing floors, of sacrificing everything for this new life, poured into her voice, a raw, agonizing cry.

He exhaled slowly, like he was holding back something dangerous, something she couldn't even begin to comprehend. "I was young, Max. I had no choice." The words were a flimsy excuse, a pathetic attempt to justify his actions.

Her breath hitched. "And now?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Then, his voice, quiet and final—"Move on, Max. It's been five years."

The words were a cruel twist of the knife. Five years. Five years of pain, of struggle, of rebuilding her life from the ashes of his betrayal. Five years, and he expected her to simply... move on?

Her heart shattered all over again, not with the sharp crack of a sudden blow, but with the dull ache of a wound that refused to heal. She nodded, blinking away the tears threatening to spill. She took a step back, then another, until she was far enough to turn away.

She walked, willing herself not to look back, to not let him see the devastation he'd wrought. But she knew, deep inside, that no matter how far she went, a part of her would always be stuck in the past, in the love she had given so freely and the boy who had never been brave enough to keep it. The boy who, even now, five years later, couldn't even look her in the eye and tell her the truth.

The hallway stretched before Maxine, a stark, white expanse reflecting the emptiness she felt inside. Each step was a deliberate act of defiance, a refusal to let Noah's callous words define her. Yet, with every foot she put forward, the weight of his absence pressed down on her, a heavy cloak of sorrow.

She reached the main entrance, the bustling activity of the university a jarring contrast to the quiet intensity of her encounter with Noah. Ashley was waiting, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Maxine! What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost... again," Ashley said, her voice laced with worry. She'd seen Maxine's initial reaction to Noah, and the renewed distress was palpable.

Maxine managed a weak smile, a pathetic attempt to mask the turmoil within. "It's... complicated," she whispered, the words catching in her throat.

Ashley, ever perceptive, didn't press. Instead, she gently took Maxine's arm. "Come on," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Let's get some coffee. And then, we're going to find you some friends. Real friends, who won't disappear on you."

The coffee shop was a haven of warmth and normalcy, a temporary respite from the emotional storm raging inside Maxine. Ashley, with her easy charm and infectious laughter, introduced Maxine to her circle of friends—a diverse group of students, each with their own unique stories and personalities. There was Miguel, the aspiring artist with a gentle soul; Sofia, the fiercely independent journalist; and David, the quiet observer with a surprisingly witty sense of humor.

They talked about classes, about their dreams, about the challenges of university life. Maxine found herself laughing, truly laughing, for the first time in years. Their easy camaraderie felt like a balm to her wounded heart, a gentle reminder that life extended beyond the shadow of her past.

Days turned into weeks, and Maxine found herself slowly adapting to her new environment. She excelled in her classes, her determination fueled by a desire to prove to herself, and perhaps to Noah, that she was more than the girl he'd left behind. She made genuine connections with her classmates, finding solace and support in their friendship.

But the memory of Noah, of his cold indifference, remained a persistent ache. It was a reminder of the pain she had endured, a scar on her heart that time might heal, but would never entirely erase. She learned to live with it, to carry it as a part of her story, not as her entire identity. She was Maxine Rylee Nievez, a survivor, a scholar, a friend. And she was finally, slowly, starting to build a future worthy of her strength and resilience. A future where she wouldn't let anyone, not even a ghost from her past, dictate her path.