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The Fine Boy

As I listen attentively to the lecture on media ethics, I jot down notes and feel grateful for the packed lunch I prepared this morning - a simple spaghetti with tomato stew and a boiled egg. At least now I won't go hungry like I did yesterday.

I saved some for Kelly, but she's been acting strangely towards me today, seeming cold and dismissive.

I even caught a suspicious gaze from her, and I hope she hasn't discovered my secret yet. I want to tell her personally.

Meanwhile, I still need to share some news with Daniel about Kendrick; I'm hoping to do that soon.

As the lecturer wraps up the class, he smiles and says, "That's it for today, see you all in my next class."

With that, he exits the classroom, and the room erupts into noise once more.

I take a moment to review my notes, checking for any mistakes, when suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I glance up to see a stranger with a wide smile and full, fluffy hair.

"Hi," he says, waving at me.

I blink confusedly, wondering if I know him. But then I remember my resolve to make friends and not spend all four semesters alone like I did in high school.

So, I smile back and respond, "Hi!"

"Hi, I'm Gabriel," he says with a smile, his hand extended for a handshake.

"Uhm...," I hesitate for a moment before placing my hand in his, and we shake hands, our eyes locking briefly before pulling away.

"So, can I sit with you?" he asks suddenly, catching me off guard.

"Hmm?" I reply, taken aback.

"Let's talk and get to know each other," he adds, and part my lips to respond, but words fail me.

I thought he just wanted to say hi and leave, what does he want to talk about?

"Come on, na, you're not going to disagree to a fine boy like me, are you?" He says with a playful grin, suddenly taking a seat next to me and making me feel slightly uncomfortable.

"So, what's your name?"

"Uhm, I'm Mandy," I respond softly, trying to hide my nervousness.

He nods, "Nice to meet you, Mandy."

I respond with a hesitant "Uhm, okay."

Then, he says, "So..." as he places his elbows on the table and rests his cheek on his knuckles, revealing a charming and endearing side of himself as he gazes at me.

"I was around when that happened to you," he says, and I frown, confused.

"What do you mean?"

He removes his elbow from the table and leans in slightly.

"I mean that time when the lecturer disgraced you in front of everyone," he says with a chuckle, which only makes me frown harder.

"Excuse you?"

Then, he covers his nose and mouth with his hands, continuing to laugh as if trying to stifle the sound.

I find his behavior rude and insensitive. If he genuinely wants to talk to me, why is he mocking me? His actions make me feel uncomfortable and disrespected.

I turn my attention back to my notes, choosing to ignore him. What a fool he is, I think to myself.

I continue studying, even though I can sense him struggling to stifle his laughter from my peripheral vision. However, he's not making any effort to improve his behavior.

I shake my head in disappointment and let out a soft hiss of frustration.

Stupid me, for thinking I could make friends with someone like him. What a waste of my precious time.

"I'm sorry, sorry," I hear him say, still chuckling, but I ignore him by placing my elbow on the table and resting my cheek on my knuckles, focusing on my reading.

If he genuinely wants to talk to me, he should use the common sense God gave him.

"I'm so sorry, but I find it funny," he says, but I continue to ignore him.

How could anyone find someone else's unpleasant situation amusing?

I feel his tap on my shoulder as he says, "I'm so sorry, I won't mention it again, I promise."

I take a deep breath in and exhale slowly, trying to process my emotions.

"It's fine," I reply, not quite truthfully.

"If it's fine, then turn to me and let's talk."

"I'm reading, I can't, sorry," I respond, not wanting to engage further.

"Are you angry at me?" he asks, seemingly oblivious to the obvious. What a ridiculous question. Why wouldn't I be mad?

"No," I reply, lying through my teeth, as I shake my head and nonchalantly flip a page in my book.

I then return to my previous position, resting my cheek on my knuckles, trying to appear nonchalant despite my growing frustration.

"Come on, na, you can't be angry at a fine boy like me," he says, but his words prompt me to turn to him with a raised brow.

"Of course, I can," I reply.

He leans in, and asks, "Oh, so you think I'm handsome, don't you?"

"It's only you who thinks that," I respond dismissively, then refocus on my book, but his presence beside me makes it challenging to concentrate.

As I continue reading, I hear him say something that catches my attention, "All the girls are dying to date me, you know."

I turn to him, slightly irritated, and reply, "I didn't ask," but despite my curt response, his smile remains unwavering.

I shake my head and face forward once again, trying to ignore his egoistic remark.

"Fine, I'm very sorry," he says, and I turn to him, intrigued by his sudden sincerity.

He nods, his expression genuine. "I actually felt sorry for you that day. The lecturer was harsh, and that wasn't right. I don't know why I'm laughing now, but it just feels funny, and I'm really sorry."

I frown, skeptical, and ask, "How does it feel funny?"

He shrugs, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

"Well...no valid reason, I can be crazy at times."

I narrow my eyes, my gaze intensifying as I try to read his true intentions.

He notices my scrutiny and asks, "This one you dey look me like this, wetin sup?" [Why're you looking at me like that? what's wrong?]

I blink, releasing the tension, and turn back to my book, dismissing him with a curt "It's nothing."

"You enjoy reading?" he asks, his voice gentle. But I keep my eyes fixed on the pages, my response brief: "Depending on the mood."

I notice him nod from my side eye, his gaze lingering on me before asking, "What happened on Monday? You looked...off."

His question stirs up memories I'd rather forget, and I pause, my fingers instinctively gripping the page of my book tightly.

The accident with those girls left me with more than just physical scars. My elbow still bears the bruises, hidden beneath my long-sleeved top.

My broken phone serves as a constant reminder of that day, and I've been meaning to get it fixed, but I'm not sure where to start.

Despite the lingering memories, I turn to face him.

"It's in the past now, I'll let it slide."

He raises a brow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You can tell me, you know. No one says no to a fine boy."

I frown, annoyance creeping into my voice. "Oh, really? Who told you you're a fine boy?"

He leans back in his chair, a confident smile spreading across his face. "Nobody told me that."

"You s—"

"They showed me instead," he interrupts, his arms stretching out with a confident air, resting on the surface of my chair and the one beside him.

I let out an amused laugh and shake my head.

"I can see you're really proud of yourself," I say, after managing to compose myself.

"Who wouldn't be?" he asks, his grin still evident.

But his expression turns serious as he asks, "So, tell me, what really happened?"

I raise an eyebrow, my eyes narrowing slightly. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, it's because of how you looked," he says, removing his arms from the seats.

"Why would anyone come late to class in such a condition? It's really suspicious and definitely questionable."

I lower my raised brow and frown instead. "Why are you asking me this now?"

"Uhh...why can't I?" he responds, his expression nonchalant, and I clench my jaw briefly, my annoyance growing.

"You can be a bit annoying, you know that, right?"

"Not this one," he says, pointing a finger at himself, and I let out a frustrated huff.

"Still what you think," I respond, and he chuckles.

Suddenly, he straightens up, his expression turning serious as he asks, "I won't force it out of you, you can tell me if you want to, but—"

I hold up my hand, palm outwards, and interrupt him. "I'll tell you if I want to, no further persuasion needed."

He raises both hands in mock surrender, "Fine, fine, calm down na."

I roll my eyes and attempt to return to my book, but my interest has waned.

I decide to pack it away in my bag and wait for the free period to end before heading home. It seems no one is eager to leave yet, and if I depart now, I'll feel out of place.

"So, Mandy," Gabriel calls out, and I turn to him with a raised brow. "Yeah?"

"Can I have your number?" he asks, and I frown, taken aback.

"Huh? Why would you want my number when we barely know each other?"

"Why can't I?" he responds nonchalantly, his shrug implying harmless curiosity.

My lips part, trembling as I search for a response to his unexpected request.

Just because I shared my number with Daniel doesn't mean I'm willing to hand it out to someone else - especially not him.

Gabriel's already holding his phone, a nonchalant grin spreading across his face. "O80, yeah, keep calling," he says, his cavalier attitude igniting a scowl on my face.

"Are you for real, bruh?" I ask.

"Yeah, isn't it obvious?"

I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down, and release my scowl.

"Sorry, Gabriel, I can't just hand out my contact information. Maybe some other time."

"When's that 'some other time'?"

I pause, about to respond, when suddenly, someone wraps their arm around my shoulders, its gentle weight sending a shiver down my spine.

The familiar, indescribable scent envelops me, and I know instantly who it is. I don't need to ask; I already know.

I glance to my left, my eyes following his movement as he sits down beside me, his presence as comforting as a warm embrace.

His scent is as intoxicating as if he's just stepped out of his room, and the instant our eyes meet, my heart races, and yesterday's memories come flooding back.

"How are you?" he asks, his deep voice soothing and calming.

I find myself smiling as I respond, "I-I'm good."

"That's great."

"So, have you had lunch yet?"

"'Uhh, not yet,'" I respond.

"'Oh, good.'"

I frown, repeating, "good?'"

He nods, his smile still present. "I want us to go out for lunch, and maybe I could get an answer.'"

My smile returns, and I playfully respond, "'We'll see.'"

But then his gaze drifts from mine to behind me, his smile slowly fading as he asks, "'Who's he?'"

Then he glances back at me, his eyes narrowing and fixing intensely on mine, as if searching for answers, and I sense a hint of curiosity and a whisper of possessiveness, making my smile widen.