Isabella's POV
There is a saying: a hungry man is an angry man.
Quoting that phrase, I am not referring to me being hopeless of daily meals. What I simply mean is that I was so exhausted and starving after hours of lectures.
Especially my worst enemy Mr. Maths.
Dumping myself on the canteen chair, I uncorked my soda downing half at a go before munching on my pie.
My rapt hunger-hazy eyes scouting around like a witty thief targeting a victim.
Finding nothing of interest except for annoying noise creators milling about, I focused back on my almost devoured fish-roll.
Raising my head again, I caught sight of an unwanted friend of mine causing me to quickly tip affront my baseball cap to cover my face.
The problem is that, she has a chronic longer-throat. If she'd seen me, she'd make sure she shares my lunch. Sulk till thy kingdom come if I refuse.
I heaved a sigh of relief as she walked past me, and out of the canteen. It's obvious her aim of visiting was to grab some free snacks. She rarely buys for herself.
Shifting back my face-cap, my breath caught suddenly in my throat for a full minute upon seeing a guy sitting comfortably across from me, his soft drink and gala resting on the table.
It wasn't the first time of me sharing a table with a man, but something about his appearance captured my entire attention that I couldn't pull my eyes from him.
I watched in dumb interest as he insert his straw to his vividly soft red lips to sip his sprite.
He immediately choked on his drink; his eyes leveling to mine.
He frowned.
I blinked.
"You might want to avert your eyes," he uttered.
My face heated up in embarrassment. I shifted my scrutinizing look to my chilled coke, willing the ground to open so I can jump inside and die.
I heard a reverberated chuckle, blinking to his direction, I was surprised to see him flaunting white set of teeth at me. His hand extended to me, realizing after a moment of confusion what he needed. I placed my unsurprisingly sweaty palm in his for a shake.
"Daniel. Daniel Johnson. And you? "
"Um… Isabella." My grip on his tightened involuntarily. His hand soft and smooth, his slightly overgrown nails, neat.
He chuckled again. I raised a brow at him in question. "Is my name amusing you?"
"Nice name you've got." He shook slightly our still clasped hands, indicating something which I wasn't paying attention to at that moment. "Are you some kind of… squasher?"
I furrowed at his question, snatched my hand instantly when I saw where his gaze rested on our intertwined hands. Oversupplied heat flooded my cheeks for the second time in abashment.
Come on, Isabella how many times are you going to humiliate yourself before you learn to quit being affected by the stranger!
Straightening my stance to maintain professional composure, I sipped on my drink, winced when the sound of it echoed like a volcano eruption.
Kill me already!
Glad he didn't look at me like a person would, a disgusting table mannerless fellow.
"What level are you, and what are you studying?" he asked politely, biting his snack.
"Two hundred. Business administration," I replied without hesitation. Acknowledging him to be a nice guy.
He stared directly in my eyes followed by seconds of silence. For the first time detecting his eye colour to be glistering brown, matching with his brown skin.
I swallowed. Hard. Waiting...
Finally, he said, "In my final year; Engineering."
"Nice course." I nodded.
"Thank you. Same with yours." He gulped his drink.
We lapsed into comfortable silence as we finished our appetizer. But to be sincere it wasn't comfortable for me. I was busy wondering what's going through his mind, If he would like to be friends with me; If he thinks me tasty and slutty for stirring up a staring single contest. What impression he has of me.
My wandering thoughts abruptly stopped when he rose, his slim long fingers diving in and out of his pant pocket and jacket.
Gazing up to his oval face, I saw the disturbed expression he wore. "Is anything the matter?"
"I can't find my phone," he informed me, eyes narrowed.
"You sure you didn't forget it in your lecture hall?"
"I don't think so. Can you please dial my number?"
"Sure." I dug for my hot note infinix. "What's your digits?"
After he told me, I clicked the call button. Frowned at him when I heard 'take me to the head' by DJ Khaled and co. "It's right in your pocket?"
He gave me a mischievous grin. "Easy way to get one's number." He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.
I wasn't sure whether to giggle or scowl at him for his cunning way of getting my contact. Not like I would decline if he'd just request. Well, I would be lying if I say it didn't add to my excitement of meeting with him.
Deciding to act dumbfounded, I followed his movement to the door. He turned, flashed a sided smile. Opening the door, he marched out without saying goodbye.
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