I am just an ordinary girl with an ordinary name.
A college student with straight A's.
The kind of girl who spends late nights cramming in libraries, who picks up shifts at the café just to make sure her tuition fee gets paid.
My father is a police officer—fearless, stubborn, the man I admire most.
My mother is the head nurse at our local hospital—sharp, kind, and tireless.
And then there's my brother. A mischievous little devil who makes my life hell in the smallest, pettiest ways, yet somehow keeps our house alive with laughter.
We lived in a small town named Ridgewood.
Our happy little family.
Until one day, everything changed.
It began innocently enough. A transfer student.
He was rumored to be the Mayor's son; his name whispered with curiosity and envy.
I didn't notice him at first. I was scribbling notes in the margin of my book, so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn't realize a shadow had fallen across my desk.
A hand reached out.
An offered handshake.
When I looked up, the world seemed to tilt.
Amber eyes. Sharp, unblinking, and far too intense. His stare pinned me like a moth under glass.
My ears burned hot. My pulse stumbled. That wasn't me—not the quiet, disciplined girl I'd always been.
I panicked.
Stumbled to my feet. Apologized for nothing.
And then I ran.
Outside, I leaned against the wall, breath ragged, hands trembling.
Why had his gaze felt like that? Not kind. Not curious. Possessive. Almost hungry.
Maybe, just maybe, it was all in my head. How could I judge someone only by the way they looked at me? And that too, once?
I really needed to stop binge-reading thrillers; they were starting to make me paranoid.
Still… something about him lingered in my thoughts. Something unsettling. His eyes. And eyes don't lie.
I shook my head, splashed cold water on my face, and told myself to snap out of it. Missing class because some random boy's stare rattled me? Ridiculous.
Back in the lecture hall, though, the air shifted. I could feel it. That heavy sensation of being watched—like a thread tugging at the back of my neck. From the corner of my eye, I saw him, sitting a few benches across, his posture relaxed but his gaze locked on me. It was too deliberate to ignore. My skin prickled.
The lecture ended, students shuffled out, and just as I was packing my bag, his voice cut through the hum of chatter.
"Excuse me," he said smoothly. His tone was polite, almost formal. "I'll need your notes. To cover everything I've missed. Will you help me?"
I looked up, startled. Seeing him this close was… disarming. His face was sharper than I remembered—chiseled jaw, striking symmetry, the kind of face that belonged on magazine covers. The kind of face every girl would melt over. And yet, instead of softening me, it made me tense.
I blinked, realizing I'd been staring. His lips were still moving, but I hadn't heard a single word.
"I'm sorry—what?" My voice cracked, betraying me.
He tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "The notes. Could you share them?"
"Oh, yes, umm… yeah." My words stumbled over themselves as I fumbled through my notebook. "Here."
He didn't take them the way I expected. No casual flip, no request to borrow them. Instead, he held my notebook firmly in one hand, pulled out his phone, and began snapping pictures one by one. His movements were quick, precise, almost mechanical.
When he was done, he closed the notebook with deliberate care and handed it back to me. His fingers brushed mine—cold, lingering a second too long.
"Thank you," he said softly. His amber eyes met mine again, unwavering. "You're different."
I froze. "What?"
"Most people don't even look at me properly," he continued, slipping his phone into his pocket. "But you… You did."
I swallowed hard, clutching my notebook against my chest. "I—uh—I guess?"
He chuckled, low and smooth, before stepping back. "See you tomorrow."
As he walked away, I realized my heart was hammering against my ribs—not from attraction, I was sure of it, but from something darker.
Something about his words didn't feel casual.
It felt like a warning.