That will be all.” The lecturer snapped his book shut and left the class.

Students scrambled out like their lives depended on it.

I sighed loudly. Because, honestly? Life hasn’t been easy. Not at home, not in school. And definitely not with Nate around.

Nate.

The bane of my existence. The oxygen thief God decided to place directly in my path.

He transferred here to finish his degree or something, don’t ask me, I don’t care. He could’ve gone to any school in the world, but no, he had to come here. And worse? He made it his life mission to frustrate me.

Report Mira to the authorities when she’s late? Check.

Point out Mira’s “mistakes” in front of professors? Double check.

Treat Mira like a personal comedy show? Triple check.

Why me? Out of all the girls on campus just because I didn't leave the way that day.

I hit my forehead with my book, maybe I could knock some sense into myself. Or erase the memory of yesterday when I was late, broke, and walking to class. Guess who pulled up in his shiny Lamborghini?

Yeah, him.

“Get in,” he’d said, like he was doing me a favor.

For five glorious seconds, I thought he actually had a heart. Then he opened his mouth the moment I sat in.

“Did you fall out of bed? Or is your hair supposed to look like that?”

“Do you own an iron? Or do you enjoy looking homeless?”

“Careful. Don’t stain my car. Don't rest fully on the seat”

By the time I got out, I was ready to throw myself into traffic.

The next day, he showed up with another car. A Bugatti, this time. When I asked why he changed cars, he smirked and said, “I had to throw the other one away.”

“What? Why?”

“You sat in it.”

…And this is why homicide is tempting.

“What the helly?” I screamed in the already empty classroom.

“Did you break up with your boyfriend?” A voice drawled behind me, smooth and irritating.

My entire soul left my body, I whipped around and there he was leaning against the doorframe like some runway model who accidentally walked into the wrong building.

“Nate,” I hissed, rolling my eyes.

Before he could say another word, I bolted. Straight out the door.

I glanced back, he was following. His hands shoved in his pockets, annoyingly calm, with that infuriating little smirk tugging at his mouth.

Why is he following me?

I sped up. He matched me.

I doubled my pace. He doubled his.

Students were staring, some laughed, others murmured.

“Oh my God, is he running after me? Mommy, help me!” I screamed within.

My lungs burned, my legs screamed, but I refused to stop. Because being caught by Nate felt worse than death.

Finally, I ran out of energy and slumped against a wall, panting. He strolled up like he’d just come back from a casual jog in Paris.

“Why’d you leave without answering my question?” he asked, not even out of breath. “I asked if you broke up with your boyfriend.”

I gaped at him. “You chased me across the entire campus…for that?”

He grinned, shameless. “Not just for that. I wanted to frustrate you.”

And then he waved. “Take care, Mira.”

Take care?!

“I WILL KILL YOU!” I screamed after him.

He just laughed.

God help me. Because despite everything,

despite his arrogance, his cruelty, his insanity, I still had a crush on him. Kill me now.

IN VIOLET HOUSE

We just wrapped the midterms test and eleven of us decided to celebrate in Violet place. You know, with music, drinks, dance, the whole vibe.

Owen invited Nate though his presence is kinda useless cause he refused to do anything because of his celebrity status. Sitting in the corner like he was allergic to fun. Too famous, too above us to dance, eat, or even pretend to smile.

Why did he come then?

After partying, we settled down sitting in the form of a circle with a bottle in the middle. Positioned for the famous Truth or Dare game.

“Violet, truth or dare?” Clara asked.

“Truth.”

“How many boyfriends are you dating right now?”

“Three.” Violet smirked.

“Ohhh,” everyone chorused.

Then the bottle landed on me.

“Mira, do you have a crush on anyone here?”

My throat went dry. “Uh…yes.”

There was gasps and laughter. Clara’s eyes widened while Nate gave an unreadable stare.

I spun the bottle. It landed on Owen. Clara’s boyfriend.

“How did you two meet?” I asked.

He smiled at Clara like she was spun from gold. “She saved me in a café. She paid for my registration slip when I couldn’t. That’s when I knew I couldn’t let her go.”

“awws.” We chorused.

Love at first sight.

Then the bottle spun and pointed at Nate.

Owen smirked. “Nate, I dare you to kiss Violet.”

" kiss?" Nate asked.

"Yes," Owen confirmed.

My lips curved into a smile. Oh, this was good. Nate would never do that, he is too proud and arrogant to kiss Viol...

Nate stood up, pulled Violet in and kissed her.

I froze. My eyes became red, and my chest tightened.

They kissed passionately. Hands roaming each other's body with Violet caressed his chest. Wait what's wrong with Violet, is she not in a relationship? in fact I hate Owen for daring Nate to kiss Violet and not me.

Then Violet moaned.

She fu-king moaned!

I wanted to scream. Or break the bottle over her head. Or maybe his or both.

I found it difficult to breathe, Violet kissing my crush is painful!

And as if the universe hadn’t humiliated me enough, everyone else started kissing too. Couples paired up around the circle like it was some kind of kissing festival.

Owen and Clara.

Paul and Isabel.

Tina and Dan.

Everyone. Except me, see oppression. Ahh single life at its finest!

Me, sitting alone, watching Nate and Violet devour each other.

And then Violet’s hand slid down and grabbed for his lower member.

Nope. That’s it.

I snapped, I have had enough.

I grabbed the nearest thing on the floor and hurled it at her.

How dare she!

Except…it didn’t hit Violet.

It hit ...

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