Chapter One

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Some things require exquisite attention to detail and in times when I encounter such things, my nerves are a mess, my hands shaky and the world around me blocked off by a self-erected invisible wall of silence. Such things entail so many critical consequences that one tiny mistake could be detrimental.

THUD!

And such things, and such concentration, can be shattered to a million pieces by the simplest disturbance such as a car door slamming close extraordinarily hard.

My hand that held the pen jerked violently at the sound, streaking blue ink about three inches across the pristine white page.

I cringed—a lot more when I recognized the unmistakable humming drifting my way.

The picnic tables that scattered around the university grounds weren’t exactly the quietest spots in the world but I had carefully positioned myself by a table at the outskirts of the grounds with the next table about fifty meters away that between it and the empty lot behind me which is only used for parking when there is a track race on the oval across it, it should’ve been peaceful.

“Hey, Ali!” a loud, cheerful greeting came from behind me and I refused to acknowledge it in irritation.

Maybe he’ll go away or get called to some other table, God knows—I didn’t care as long as he didn’t start heading my way.

Some things though, especially when they’re irritating, just won’t leave you alone.

“Your nose is buried in homework again?” he asked, appearing across the table which his shadow on my now-not-so-immaculate accounting spreadsheet, made obvious. “Ali, don’t you know how to chill at all?”

“Don’t block the sunlight, Seth,” I replied dryly, gripping my pen with tight knuckles. “My day is dim enough already, thanks to you.”

“What did I do this time?” he asked, plopping down on the bench across me, his hand reaching for the worksheet.

I slapped his hand away, finally looking up to glare at him. “You keep existing—that’s what.”

Most, if not, every girl on this campus thinks Seth Wallace is Godsent. 

With his tall, lean, athletic built, wavy, light brown hair, smiling, forest green eyes and rich, privileged background, he is well gushed-for and swooned-over by supposedly intelligent females on campus—well, except for me. He and his troop of rich, spoiled brats for friends irritate me in the overly casual and carefree way they live life. You’d think somebody like me who have been going to expensive private schools since first grade would be used to people like Seth but I’m not—simply because my ticket to this high-quality education was hard-earned through punishing discipline that kept me in scholarships year after year. Without the scholarships, university would’ve never been possible.

He grinned more widely, obviously not taking offense. “Oh, but I exist to make your life so much more interesting, Ali.”

I snorted and dug through my document envelope for a new sheet. I don’t know what’s up with our Accounting professor but he’s so old-school he's opposed to using accounting softwares that would make projects like this so much easier to edit. Stacking up on blank worksheets was our only option. “My life is interesting enough without your constant torment, thank you very much.”

I meant it. His constant pestering was the last thing I needed. University was going pretty well for me since I started a year ago. I met him in one of my advanced Marketing classes on the second semester of my sophomore year. It started when I had curtly bitten his head off for being so chatty with the girl sitting next to him when I was trying to listen to the teacher’s presentation. He’d looked at me, for the first time, and had this weird, amused look in his eyes that starkly contrasted the seething anger in the girl’s eyes and since then, he seemed to be always sitting on the chair next to mine and for no particular reason, treated me like we were good friends even outside of class. I had no plans of being friends with him and his crowd and I thought that when that semester ended, I would finally be rid of his presence. But boy, wasn’t it such a huge surprise when he turned out to be in one of my classes again this semester—Asian Civilizations, which no business major is required to take but I was interested in. I bluntly demanded what he was doing there—he was not Asian at all—and he was clearly there for reasons irrelevant to the course. He just grinned and winked at me, offering no explanation at all, up to this day.

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