9

It was infuriatingly ironic that such drop-dead gorgeousness was paired with a major douchebag persona—it seemed he was inherently programmed to be an asshole. I bet his stunning looks likely paved the way for a life of entitlement, overflowing arrogance, and self-centeredness. How fucking oblivious to his surroundings was this guy? Couldn't he see us all waiting here?

It was like all he could focus on was the next piece of ass. What happened to the blonde from before? Had he secured her and was now onto the next available hot chick he could find? He was a walking STD if I ever saw one.

And why the fuck wasn't anyone saying anything? I knew for a fact that college students hardly ever tolerated these kinds of behaviors. Just who was this asshole that everyone just shut up and accommodated his rude behavior?

The crowd seemed mesmerized by his presence, as if his confidence and looks granted him immunity from social norms. I couldn't stand it. The hypocrisy, the double standards—it all made my blood boil. My patience was thin, and my day was already teetering on the edge of disaster.

As I fumed, a girl behind me tapped my shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"

I turned to see a concerned face, her eyes wide with empathy. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... frustrated."

"I get it," she said, glancing towards Terry. "He's always like this. But, like, no one ever calls him out because he's... well, you know."

I nodded, understanding her unspoken words. It was maddening, but I couldn't let him ruin my day any further. I needed to find a way to rise above this, to not let his presence dictate my mood.

As I took another sip of my coffee, I decided to focus on the positives. The coffee was perfect, the weather was decent, and despite everything, I was still here, still pushing through.

Walking back to campus, I felt a renewed sense of determination. Terry Snacker might be a walking nightmare, but he wasn't going to define my day or my life. I had bigger things to worry about, and I refused to let him get the best of me.

As I entered my next class, I spotted an empty seat in the back and made my way towards it. Just as I sat down, I saw Terry stroll in, his confident swagger making my eye twitch. But this time, I ignored him. He was a blip on my radar, nothing more.

Class started, and I forced myself to focus on the lecture. Slowly but surely, the tension eased, and I felt myself slipping into the rhythm of the class. Terry might have been a persistent annoyance, but he wasn't my problem.

The professor's voice droned on, and I took notes diligently, letting the familiar routine ground me. I glanced at Terry occasionally, but each time I reminded myself that he was just a distraction. My goals, my future—that was what mattered.

By the end of the class, I felt lighter, more in control. I gathered my things and headed out, determined to make the most of the rest of my day. As I walked across campus, the sun breaking through the clouds, I knew I had the strength to face whatever came my way, even if that meant dealing with Terry Snacker and his infuriating charm.