I was sitting by the window, staring at… something I couldn't name, when Professor Sharma's voice sliced through my daydream.
"Miss Olivia!"
My head snapped around so fast I was sure I pulled a nerve.
"What's so fascinating outside, Miss Olivia?" His eyes narrowed behind his glasses.
Heat crept up my neck. Words jumbled in my head, colliding before they could form a proper sentence.
"Well, professor, I—I was just, um… checking the weather," I stammered. "To see if it might rain."
A few chuckles rippled through the class. My laugh joined them—nervous, awkward, and absolutely not like me.
Professor Sharma arched a brow. "Rain? Miss Olivia, what part of you thinks it will rain when the sun outside is practically setting us all on fire?"
Shit.
"It was just a prediction, sir. Nothing serious," I muttered, fumbling for dignity. Then quickly, before he could press further, I blurted, "I'm sorry for being distracted. It won't happen again."
The professor let the silence linger a second too long, clearly savouring my discomfort, before replying, "Good. I would hate for my top student to start seeing clouds where there are none."
Laughter again. But his words made my stomach tighten. Because the truth was—
I had seen something. Not clouds. Not weather.
Something else.
In the very class that I sit. Watching.
As soon as the lecture ended, I shoved my books into my bag. I was determined to walk straight home. I didn't want to linger a second longer than necessary.
But just as I rose from my bench, I heard my name.
"Hey, Olivia!"
The voice was familiar. Too familiar. My skin prickled instantly, every hair standing on edge. It was the same shiver I'd felt yesterday when he offered me that handshake.
It was him.
What does he even want from me? Why does he keep finding me?
I took a slow breath, I slowly turned around, and I replaced the disgusted look on my face with something more charmingly fake, that is, my smile.
My voice came out strained, overly cheerful.
"Heyyyy," I said, dragging the word out unnecessarily.
His eyes lit up at my reply, a strange gleam flashing in his amber gaze. It should've been beautiful, but instead, it made me feel sick.
Beautiful Disgusting.
"So, um," he said, almost casually, "I was wondering if you'd like to come over to my house?"
Eww. No. Why? What the hell?
A hundred responses ran through my mind, none of them polite. But what came out of my mouth was—
"What's the purpose?"
He tilted his head, smiling faintly. "Well, I don't really know anyone here… except you. Thanks to your notes. And I'd like to know you better. So…"
Just like that? Just like that, he wanted me to walk into his world, to be his… what? Friend?
Hell no.
Friendship isn't a random invitation. It's built on shared likes, shared moments, something real. But this guy? All I ever got from him was a storm of dark, negative energy—something heavy I couldn't name, something that clung to him like a shadow.
And yet… the truth was, if not for his face, I would've already punched him a thousand times. That face—sharp, flawless, unfairly captivating—was a trap. The kind of face you wanted to stare at forever.
I shook the thought violently from my head. No. No! What am I even thinking? Gross!
"I don't think that's a good idea," I said firmly, gripping my bag strap like a lifeline.
For the first time, his smile faltered. His eyes lingered on me, unreadable. Then he chuckled, low and quiet. "You don't trust me."
"I barely know you," I shot back.
"That's the point." He leaned closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear. "You should get to know me. Because whether you like it or not, Olivia… we're going to see a lot more of each other."
My stomach dropped. "Is that a threat?"
He smiled again, perfectly calm. "No. A fact."
And with that, he turned and walked out of the classroom, leaving me frozen in place, clutching my notebook like a shield.
I hated the way my heart raced.
I hated the part of me that wanted to follow.