(Alia’s POV)
"Alia Clinton," I heard my na. The way he said it, the way it sounded, made freeze. My brain rattled violently with questions pouring, ’Did he just call my na? But why? Why would he? And~ ... why is he even sitting here, right across from , huhh? When there are tons of vacant seats. Just why? Is this all my imagination? Am I thinking too much about him? My mind must be playing gas on .’
I was so deeply doused in my chain of thoughts that when he mumbled, "Quite charming~ ... when you are focused. Haha~ ...." My instinctive reaction was to flinch. But that was just on the inside, outwardly, I kept a void expression, zeroed my eyes at him and said, "Keep quiet, this is the library." My voice ca out much colder, more stoic than normal. Must be because of the pent-up irritation.
I retracted my gaze and looked at the book in front of , trying to play it cool. But the content that I was finding interesting and intrusive a few minutes ago now looked like so sort of ancient language to . I couldn’t focus or read a single alphabet.
I tried to peek a glance at that guy, and strangely, he was staring right at , without blinking. That made nervous as hell. But why am I feeling this way? Why? What’s the reason? There were countless questions, clogging my brain, with no answer.
After five seconds, when I didn’t utter anything, as if he was bored, I saw his silhouette moving.
He got up and walked away, just like that. I let go of a breath, I didn’t know I was holding, and mumbled to myself, "What was that about? No, wait, Lia. Why are you constantly thinking about him? He just wants to ss up. Get him outta your head, NOW."
Midterm exams were arriving soon. I’d better focus on my grades than any boy drama. Let’s keep far, far away from such things, just like always. I chanted my mantra inside my head and carried on with what I was doing.
Barely two minutes had passed by when I heard a voice, a whisper, calming as the sea, beside my ear, "Help with this." I couldn’t help but startle, shaking and glancing beside , simultaneously.
Everyone who was present looked at with a frown. I settled in my seat once again, gave an apologetic bow and then glared at him. After a pause, I said, my voice muffled, "Denver Brooks, what are you trying to do?"
His brows were knitted together now. Then he leaned towards even more and said, "Didn’t you offer first?" We were now in such close proximity, only a few inches apart, that I could see every pore, every line, every little detail on his face and backed away instantly.
I spat out, still in a whisper, "Offer what?"
"To ask you when I need help?" he said, giving a look I quite could not comprehend.
’So, he is saying what I told him on the first day he arrived. The help? You are quite early, dude. Very early,’ I thought. The urge to roll my eyes was so intense, but I held it in.
He then added, "Did you forget? Or~ ... was that just empty words from the class rep."
Right about now, I wish I could smack his forehead, hard, really hard. He is just too annoying for a fine looking guy. "Of course, I rember," I spoke, my voice lowered, my teeth gritted.
"Help with this, then," he didn’t ask, he just slid his notebook towards , his index finger tapping on the part he wanted help with.
With no choice left, I looked at the part he was stuck on. With a single glance, I could tell why he asked. Honestly, most of our classmates have had a problem with the topic, mont of inertia. It was a bit challenging even for at the start to understand it.
I dived into my tutoring mode, folded my sleeves and started explaining to him one thing at a ti. He, like an attentive student, listened to my words obediently. He nodded every now and then, when he understood and when he didn’t, he just raised his finger and asked the question. And just like that, we synced in.
After our mini tutoring session was done, he pulled away and concentrated on sothing in his notebook. Then, out of the blue, he closed it, got up, and mumbled, "I got it."
I looked at him with a dumbfounded look. ’What is this person? No thank yous, no acknowledgent. Absolutely nothing. Is he just going to go away like that? What is his problem?’
He packed his stuff and was about to go when he turned around, bent down to my level, and whispered, his voice sounding raspy, magnetic, "So, I will co to you when I have a problem, hmm," he raised again, winked at , and with that, he was gone.
I looked at his receding figure, my mouth wide open. If a fly were passing by, it could enter and do a whole tour inside my mouth.
’What just~ ... what the hell just happened? He ca, he talked, he winked, and now he’s gone? But~ ... but, what’s with the wink? Is he trying to flirt with ? But~ ... that moron, wasn’t he allergic to the female species?’
He made restless with his impromptu actions. For an entire day, I couldn’t concentrate on a single thing.
After that, whenever he had any problem, he would just co to , ask~ ... ohh sorry, not ask~ .... But tell to help him with such and such a thing. And , like a goddamn fool, obliged. EVERY SINGLE TI.
He would pass on a tiny bit of flirtatious comnt whenever I was explaining sothing, or maybe it was I that find his words flirty. Because outside of that, whenever we saw each other, or whenever our eyes t, he would behave as if I were invisible. I did not exist.
The hot and cold attitude was fucking killing until~ ....
To Be Continued . . . . . . . .
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