CHAPTER 4- RUNNING

As I carried Isaac's dry-cleaned clothes to return to him, I made sure to do everything perfectly. I washed them meticulously, making sure there were no traces of the coffee stain left. I even splurged on an expensive perfume, one I'd never bought before, and drenched the clothes in it. The scent was rich, intoxicating, almost like something that belonged to a different world. I folded the shirt neatly, tucked it into a gift bag, and made sure it looked presentable.

But every time I tried to give it to him, the universe conspired against me.

He was always surrounded by people. Every single time I found him, there were others—friends, admirers, classmates. It was impossible to approach him without attracting attention, and that was the last thing I wanted.

I hated being in the spotlight, and I was already a laughing stock. I couldn't bear the thought of my name spreading further—of people seeing me hand a gift bag to Isaac Brown, The king of the hot boys(ps.that's what I call him) That thought alone made my stomach churn. So, I kept the gift bag to myself, hoping one of two things would happen: Either he would forget about the shirt altogether, or, somehow, he would tell me not to bother returning it.

But as much as I wanted to escape that situation, life had other plans.

I went to class, tried to keep to myself, and found solace in my routine. Lunchtime was always tricky. I didn't want to eat in the cafeteria, not after seeing Matthew and his new girlfriend practically glued to each other in the corner. It was suffocating. So, I had found a quiet spot—away from everyone—near the garden behind the basketball court. It was the perfect hideaway.

Nobody went there, especially around midday. The basketball players and athletes only used that area early in the morning or late in the evening, which meant I could eat in peace.

On this fateful day, I had the perfect plan. The cafeteria had chocolate pan bread—my favorite. I grabbed a piece along with some yogurt, and headed out toward my secret spot, ready to enjoy a quiet, solitary lunch before returning to class.

But just as I rounded the corner of the basketball court, I collided with someone.

Or rather... he collided with me

As I looked up, there he was, Isaac . He was breathing hard, clearly out of breath from running after me.

"I finally caught up to you," he said, his voice laced with a mixture of frustration and amusement.

I stopped in my tracks, bewildered. "What do you mean, finally caught up to me?" I stammered. "Were you seriously running after me this whole time?"

"Yes," he replied flatly, his eyes glinting with irritation. "You would've known if your ears weren't blocked."

I blinked, my confusion quickly turning to annoyance. "My ears are always blocked because there's no one to talk to," I snapped. "And anyone who knows me knows that if you want to talk to me, you should at least call or text. I check it, then take out my earplugs."

Isaac raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, really," I shot back.

Isaac sighed, clearly exasperated. "Well, I've been running after you to get my clothes back," he said. "It's been days, and you still haven't returned them. What, are you keeping them? Do you want to wear them? Why are you hoarding my clothes? Are you that obsessed with them? For all I know, you've framed them and hung them up on your wall."

That was it. The dam broke.

I took a step forward, my hands trembling with anger. "Who do you think you are?" I demanded, my voice rising. "I am sorry about your clothes, alright? And I did dry clean them—meticulously, I might add. But every time I try to give them back to you, you're always surrounded by people!"

I didn't stop. The words just came pouring out. "What are you, some kind of show animal? Even show animals get a break! You're always talking to people, constantly surrounded by crowds. If it was just two or three, I could've handed them to you. But no—you draw in dozens of people. Every time I try to approach you, there are at least ten people around you. Who in their right mind talks to ten people at once? Are you an attention whore or something?"

As soon as the last words left my mouth, I froze. My heart sank, realising how much I'd just said—and how wrong it all sounded.

I clamped my hands over my mouth, feeling like I'd just set off a bomb I couldn't defuse. What did I just do? I thought, my mind spiraling as I waited for Isaac's reaction.

I closed my mouth, holding my breath as I waited for Isaac's reaction. He stared at me, a look of indifference painted on his face. But I could sense the irritation simmering beneath the surface.

"So, where are my clothes?" he asked, his tone flat.

I told him they were back in my hostel, and his response was swift. "Let's go get them."

I shook my head, unwilling to give in so easily. "No. I'll bring them to you first thing tomorrow morning. Just text me where you'll be, or I'll hand them over to someone you trust."

Isaac didn't like that one bit. "No," he said firmly. "I won't be around for a while. I'm running errands for a professor, and I won't be available. I need the clothes today."

He made it sound like a non-negotiable demand. I hesitated for a moment before agreeing, deciding I couldn't delay this anymore. "Fine. It's in my hostel, and if you want them now, you'll have to follow me there."

Without a second thought, he agreed.

As we walked away from the quiet, secluded basketball court and entered the more crowded areas of campus, a horrible realization hit me. The gravity of what I was doing sunk in.

The king of the science department. The most admired guy in the entire school.

And here he was, walking beside me—the girl who had once been the laughingstock of the school. I couldn't breathe at the thought of the attention we would attract. I could already feel the stares of others burning into my back.

Panic set in. I picked up the pace, my heart racing in my chest. I couldn't bear the idea of people seeing us together.

Before I even realized what was happening, I found myself running, desperate to put distance between Isaac and the looming stares of the crowd. I ran as fast as I could, my breath ragged, until I stumbled and fell, my knees hitting the ground.

I stopped, gasping for air, but when I looked up, Isaac was right there—chasing after me, determined and relentless.

My heart skipped a beat. I panicked and took off again, faster this time, my legs burning with the effort. But no matter how fast I ran, he was right behind me, matching my every step.

It wasn't long before we found ourselves at my hostel—both of us out of breath, caught up in the madness of the moment.

As we made our way to my hostel, I couldn't shake the feeling that Isaac needed some sort of explanation, but I didn't know how to give it to him. The weight of the stares from people I passed as I walked with him only fueled my decision. I wouldn't ask him how he felt, and I wouldn't explain myself. In my mind, this was the last time we'd ever have to speak, see each other, or even acknowledge one another.

I hurried into my room, grabbed his clothes, and walked back out. Before I went to fetch his clothes, I told him to wait beside the tree near the hostel—the place I usually went to hide when I didn't want to be seen. He agreed, and I quickly made my way there, heart pounding in my chest.

When I reached him, I handed over the clothes, my voice steady but my heart a mess. "Here. Your clothes. I'm not going to see you again," I said, avoiding his eyes. "I think I've repaid my debt. I dry-cleaned them, even bought expensive perfume and soaked it into your clothes just to apologize properly. Now, I don't owe you anything. Please, take them."

I took a deep breath before continuing, the words spilling out in a rush. "And as you do, don't ever contact me. Pretend like you don't even see me. I'm dead to you. Don't talk to me in public, don't come near me, don't say anything to me. For the record, just avoid me. I can't make the same mistake twice. I can't be the laughingstock again."

Isaac's face twisted in confusion, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

I rolled my eyes, a surge of frustration rising in me. "What, are you deaf? Are you dumb, or do you just not get it?" I shot back, my anger flaring. "I can't be seen talking to you in public. I'm not allowed to talk to you in public. And I can't go through that again."

Isaac looked at me, his expression a mix of shock and incredulity. "What do you mean 'not allowed to talk to me in public'? I can talk to whoever I want, and I don't care who's watching!"

The tension between us hung thick in the air, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.

Isaac's eyes flared with irritation as he spoke, his voice sharp. "I don't plan on associating with you either but that doesn't mean people can dictate to you who you spend your own time with besides, nobody tells me who to talk to and who not to talk to not even you."

I looked at him, feeling a bitter laugh bubbling in my chest. "You really don't know," I muttered under my breath.

"Know what?" he demanded, his voice low and confused, but there was a hint of something else there—something I couldn't quite place.

"Never mind." I snapped, frustration boiling over. I shoved the clothes into his chest, watching his expression flicker with surprise. "Take your clothes, and never talk to me again."

He hesitated for a moment, but I wasn't looking for answers. I wasn't looking for anything from him.

"Thank you for your patience and understanding," I said, my voice laced with bitterness but also with the smallest shred of sincerity. "I really do appreciate it. And I really can't thank you enough."

I took a step back, swallowing the lump in my throat. "But let this be the last time we ever have any kind of contact. I just want to live my school life in peace. I can't go through this again."

I said the words to myself as much as I said them to him, but I was resolute. This was it. No more.

As I turned away, I could feel his gaze burning into me, but I kept walking, hoping—no, praying—that this would truly be the last time we ever crossed paths.