CHAPTER 17: HELLO, HELL MY OLD FRIEND.

MAYA.

This week had been an unrelenting descent into chaos, a never-ending cycle of stress and anxiety that seemed to know no bounds. And to think it was only Wednesday - the week was barely half over, and I was already running on fumes. The constant barrage of calls and messages from my so-called father was just the tip of the iceberg, a nagging annoyance that I could, for the most part, ignore.

But the real challenge lay in avoiding Andrew on campus, a task that seemed to grow more impossible by the day. Every corner I turned, every doorway I walked through, seemed to lead me straight into his path. It was as if the universe was conspiring against me, determined to rub salt in my already gaping wounds.

I couldn't shake the feeling that Andrew's sudden presence on campus was more than just a coincidence. Has he always been so easy to find, or was this a recent development? I racked my brain, trying to recall if our paths had crossed this frequently before. But as I thought back, I realized that Andrew's faculty was actually quite far from mine. It didn't make sense that I would keep running into him, unless... unless he was intentionally seeking me out.

A nagging suspicion took root in my mind. First-year students often had to take general courses, which could explain why they might be found in different faculty buildings. But Andrew was a second-year medical student, which meant his schedule was likely packed with specialized courses. He wouldn't have had time to take electives or general courses outside of his faculty, and even if he did, he would have already completed them by now. The conclusion was inescapable: Andrew had no legitimate reason to be wandering the halls of my faculty, unless he was deliberately trying to find me.

It was astonishing to think that Andrew, a medical student, seemed to have an abundance of free time on his hands. I would have thought that his demanding coursework and clinical rotations would have left him scrambling to keep up, but apparently, I was wrong.

Meanwhile, Sasha and Eric had taken it upon themselves to become my self-appointed guardians, ensuring that I was always within their line of sight. It was a drastic measure, but one that I appreciated nonetheless. They had decreed that I was to be in the same physical space as them at all times, effectively making them my unpaid chauffeurs, bodyguards, and all-around caretakers.

The reason for their newfound roles in my life was a story worth telling. It was a bizarre incident that had left us all shaken, and had prompted Sasha and Eric to take matters into their own hands. As I settled in to recount the tale, I couldn't help but think that it was a wonder I had made it through the past few days in one piece.

So, here's what went down. I was lounging in my apartment over the weekend, trying to shake off the lingering emotions from the previous day's drama, when the front desk called to inform me that my father was waiting to see me. My instincts kicked in, and I told them I needed a moment to confirm his identity. Or so I claimed.

In reality, I did the exact opposite of what I said I would do. Instead of calling him to verify his identity, I panicked and made a beeline for the emergency exit. I snuck out of my own apartment, leaving behind the relative safety and comfort of my home. And I haven't been back since.

The front desk has been calling me nonstop, informing me that my father has been showing up relentlessly, waiting for me to return. But I've been avoiding my apartment, unsure of how to deal with the situation or what might happen if I face him again.

I had enlisted Eric's help to retrieve some essential school items from my apartment, and his reconnaissance mission had confirmed my worst fears: my father was still lingering around my apartment, refusing to give up. His persistence was both fascinating and infuriating, leaving me to wonder if he had always been this relentless.

A pang of sadness struck me as I thought about my mother, and how his lack of dedication had contributed to her suffering. I mentally chastised myself for feeling even a hint of sympathy for him; after all, he had made his choices years ago, and now he had to live with the consequences.

Sasha's voice cut through my thoughts, snapping me back to reality. "Babes, you listening?" she asked, her tone tinged with concern. I turned my attention back to her, shaking off the melancholy that had settled over me.

"Huh?" I responded, still slightly dazed from my earlier reverie.

Sasha's expression turned patient as she repeated her question. "I said we should grab something to eat after you're done picking up your stuff. What do you think?"

I shook off my distraction, a rumble in my stomach suddenly reminding me that I was famished. "Oh, yeah. Yes, of course! Sounds like a great idea. I could eat," I replied, my enthusiasm growing.

Sasha's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Sweet, we should check out this new spot they just opened. I hear the food is to die for!" Her voice was infused with an infectious enthusiasm, but Eric's response was decidedly less thrilling.

He let out a dramatic groan, his eyes rolling heavenward. "What?" Sasha asked, confusion etched on her face.

Eric's tone was dry. "I just want to eat, man. Must you turn this into one of your weird quests too?" His words were laced with a hint of exasperation, but Sasha just chuckled, undeterred.

Sasha's eyes widened in mock outrage, her voice rising to a dramatic crescendo. "Weird? Did you just call me weird? Maya! Eric called me weird!" I knew that tone all too well - it was the precursor to the "Maya, be on my side" game, where Sasha would attempt to enlist my support in her imaginary vendetta against Eric.

But Eric was not one to back down. He fueled the fire, his words dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't call you weird, stupid! I said your quest was weird! You heard me right, Maya?" He was goading Sasha, and I knew it.

Sasha's face turned beet red as she spluttered, "Maya! Eric called me weird and stupid!" I threw up my hands in exasperation, wondering what I had gotten myself into. These two were like oil and water, constantly at odds with each other.

Eric's frustration boiled over, his voice rising to a shout. "Don't you understand English anymore? I said your quest was weird, then I called you stupid. Maya, please tell her there's a difference!" I rolled my eyes, amazed that I was being dragged into this absurd argument. Sometimes, Sasha and Eric acted like they were still in kindergarten, not college students.

I attempted to intervene, but Sasha was on a roll, her words tumbling out in a passionate defense. "Guys, please..." I tried saying, but she talked right over me.

"Of course, I know the difference, but both insults were directed at me," she protested, her voice rising. "And there's nothing weird about checking out a new restaurant." I let out a deep sigh, feeling like I was trapped in a never-ending cycle of absurdity. This argument was going nowhere fast.

Eric's frustration was palpable, his face twisted in exasperation. "It wouldn't be weird if you didn't drag us to every new place they open," he retorted, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Most of them suck." Sasha's triumphant smile only added fuel to the fire.

"You don't have to come with us every time, you know?" she declared, her voice dripping with condescension. "Maya and I will go by ourselves." I let out another sigh, feeling like I was being pulled into yet another ridiculous squabble. Here we go again, I thought, wondering when they would finally call a truce.

Eric's words caught me off guard, leaving me scrambling for a response. "Why should Maya go with you? She's coming with me. Won't you, Maya?" He turned to me with an expectant grin, as if I would naturally choose his side.

I hesitated, unsure of how to navigate this absurd tug-of-war. "Ummm...I just wanna eat?" I ventured, hoping to sidestep the argument. But Eric was undeterred.

"See! She's coming with me," he declared, his voice dripping with triumph. Sasha's protest was immediate, but I didn't stick around to hear it. "Wait! What?" she began, but I cut her off, intervening before things escalated further.

"We are here!" I announced, gathering my belongings and making a hasty exit from the car. I practically leaped out of the vehicle, eager to escape the bickering duo. As I walked away, I could hear their raised voices, still arguing over whose side I was on. I shook my head, chuckling wryly to myself. Those two were impossible.

I had a pressing need to retrieve some old papers from the mansion, which I required as reference material for a project that had been consuming my every waking moment. The timing seemed perfect, as I knew Mrs. D was out of town on a two-week emergency trip. She had left me a cryptic message, hinting at a heart-to-heart conversation upon her return. The prospect of "the talk" filled me with a sense of dread, and I was grateful for the temporary reprieve.

As I made my way to the mansion, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I knew my father was still camped outside my apartment, and Andrew rarely visited the mansion except on weekends, holidays, or in cases of emergency. The same went for Sasha, Eric, and me - we only ventured to the mansion when absolutely necessary. With both my father and Andrew accounted for, I felt relatively safe making this solo trip to retrieve my papers.

I swiftly navigated the familiar corridors of the west wing, my feet carrying me on autopilot to the sanctuary of my room. Once inside, I efficiently gathered the papers I needed, my organizational skills proving to be a lifesaver. I couldn't help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction, thinking about Sasha's constant teasing regarding my love of order. But I knew the truth - being organized made life infinitely easier.

With my mission accomplished, I was poised to make a seamless exit when disaster struck. I turned a corner, and my heart sank as I came face-to-face with the last person I wanted to see - Andrew. He froze, his eyes wide with surprise, clearly not expecting our paths to cross. I shared his sentiment; what was he doing here? The mansion was supposed to be a safe haven, a place where I could escape the chaos of my life. And yet, here he was, his presence a jarring reminder that I couldn't escape him that easily.

My instincts took over, and I swiftly made a U-turn, dashing towards the opposite side of the spiral staircase. My feet pounded the steps, my heart racing with anticipation. But then, Andrew's words stopped me in my tracks.

"Nothing happened!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency. I froze, my back still turned to him. "Nothing happened between us that night," he repeated, his tone softening to a gentle persuasion. "So, you can stop avoiding me now." His words were laced with a somber sincerity that tugged at my heartstrings, making me feel a pang of guilt and regret.

But before I could process my emotions or respond, Andrew turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone on the staircase. I was taken aback, unsure of how to react. So, I did the only thing that seemed logical in that moment - I made a run for it, dashing down the remaining stairs and out of the mansion, eager to escape the awkwardness and uncertainty that lingered in Andrew's wake.

A part of me had always suspected that nothing had happened between us that fateful night, but a glimmer of hope had refused to die. I had clung to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, something had transpired, something that could explain the undeniable connection I felt with Andrew. But now, as I stood there, his words hung in the air like a cruel taunt, shattering my fragile hopes.

Hearing him declare that nothing had happened was like a dagger to the heart, a painful reminder of my own foolish desires. The sting of disappointment was overwhelming, leaving me breathless and bewildered. This agonizing uncertainty, this relentless longing, it was all starting to feel like an endless, waking nightmare.