It’s prep time. I arrange my books on my desk and sit down, only to see my arch-enemy—Norman—smirking and walking toward me.
Norman used to pick on me all the time. I thought I finally got rid of him when I transferred. Did James tell him to transfer too?
Oh god, no.
“Hey there, little bunny. Fancy meeting you again,” he says with a grin. “Though I have to tell you, you look like a fish in those pajamas. An ugly one.” He plops down in the seat next to mine.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion on my outfit,” I say, shooting him a dry look.
“Oh, I see,” he shrugs. “Anyway, have fun. I hope you finally get a boyfriend,” he adds with a smirk, as if he's being genuinely helpful.
He always loved picking on me for not having a boyfriend. It’s not like I can’t date—or even really want to right now—but damn, he knows exactly how to get under someone’s skin.
It's only when I start writing that I notice the sweat building on my palms. I’ve been tugging at the hem of my skirt without even realizing it.
Norman really makes me nervous. You never know what he’s going to do next—whether it’s another insult or a random attempt to embarrass me in front of everyone.
I still can’t understand how James made him his best friend. Seriously, of all people.
I stared at him from the corner of my eye, watching him read intently. For all his jerk behavior, Norman is actually the top student in class—when he doesn't really read. He always comes first, no matter what.
Me? I study for hours, lose sleep, and still end up second. He barely tries, and yet somehow, he’s always ahead. It’s one of the many reasons I can’t stand him.
James, on the other hand, is just average. He’s never really cared about academics—and honestly, I don't think he ever will.
I'm lost staring at him until he clears his throat and walks over, that annoying smirk playing on his face, his lips tugging at the corner like he knows he’s won something.
"You done staring at this masterpiece, bunny?" he says.
I scoff and look away. I hate to admit it, but he really is top-tier—very, very handsome. Honestly, I think he’s even hotter than James. His deep blue eyes, perfectly structured jawline, that body… it’s like he was carved out of a Greek statue.
And then, just as I’m zoning out again, he snaps me back to reality—literally—by ruffling my hair.
"How dare you hit my head? Do you know how long I spent laying this hair flat?" I snap.
He laughs in front of me. "You're amazing. But seriously, why can’t you just enjoy my charm without getting so defensive?"
"Why can’t you keep your hands to yourself and stop tugging my hair?" I grumble, trying to fix the mess he made.
Honestly, no matter how much of a jerk he is, sometimes I just can’t stop thinking about him. Especially now that James is barely around—either with his new girl, hanging with his friends, or just being... James.
No one else really distracts me like Norman does. And I hate it.
I miss him. Ugh, I actually miss him. I’ve got this stupid crush on him that won’t go away. A real, annoying, butterflies-in-my-stomach type of crush. But I’d rather die than admit that out loud. Nope. Not happening.
He's not mine. Never was. Probably never will be. And I’m 99.9% sure he has a girlfriend.
It’s just so dumb.
So I do what any sane girl would do—try to distract myself with that shirtless guy I saw earlier at the boys' dorm. Yep. That helps. A bit.
I kept checking my watch like every five seconds, praying prep would just end already. Him looking that hot right next to me? Not helping.
And thinking back… ugh, I had to put up with him and James bringing girls over during sleepovers, doing the nastiest stuff right there in the same room. It was super annoying. Back then, I hadn’t even realized I had a silly little crush on him.
The worst part? After all that DISGUSTING BUSINESS, he’d come try to steal my food—with his DISGUSTING HAND.Like, really?
I thought it was disgusting. But the truth? It actually hurt. Maybe if I had a boyfriend, it wouldn’t have stung so bad. But I didn’t. And I couldn't even get one.
I was unconsciously tugging at the button on my pyjamas, not even realizing how loose it had gotten—until it popped off and hit the floor.
Norman burst out laughing.
I stood up to scold him, but then I saw the way his eyes darkened—like something shifted. I followed his gaze... down to my chest.
My boobs. EXPOSED.
“You pervert!” I screeched, trying to cover up.
“How am I a pervert when you were literally opening your shirt for me, Bunny?” he said with that annoying smirk. “Besides, I’ve seen better.”
Ouch.
I don’t know what hurt more—him seeing other boobs... or him saying they were better than mine. Something in me just snapped.
“Oh, like hell you have! I’m not gonna let you insult my body. Just so you know, I’m a lot better than those sluts!” I blurted.
My words hung in the air.
“Really, Bunny?” he said, lips curving into a wicked smirk.
My heart raced like crazy. Embarrassed and flustered, I rushed back to my desk still standing face burning.
Oh my God… what had I just done?
" But really Bunny you might wanna fix your shirt, bunny," Norman says, voice quieter this time, his usual smirk fading slightly.
He raises his hands in mock surrender, but there’s a flicker of something else in his expression — not the usual smugness. Was that... guilt?
I glare at him "Mind your business" I deadpan.
"Relax, I wasn’t looking... that much," he mutters, avoiding my eyes now. "Just... be careful, alright?"
For once, he doesn’t add a sarcastic jab. He just turns away and fidgets with his pen.
I sit down, heart pounding — not from anger, but something I can’t place. And for the first time, I wonder if there’s more to Norman than just insults.
At that exact moment, the bell rang, signaling the end of prep.
I exhaled heavily—I had never been more grateful for a bell in my life.
I scrambled to pack my books, my hands slightly shaky. And him? He was just there, staring at me with that annoying grin on his face.
“I’ll see you around, Bunny,” he said casually. “Oh, and don’t forget to fix your button—your boobs are still on display.”
Ugh. My face flamed up again. Angry, embarrassed, and wanting to disappear, I shot him a glare sharp enough to kill.
I rushed out and met up with Mandy and the rest. They asked how prep went.
“It was fine,” I muttered, not ready to relive the embarrassment.
Mirabel, started rambling excitedly about some guy who had been flirting with her the whole time during prep.
When we got back to our room, I decided to take another shower—everything with Norman had my head spinning. I needed something cold to cool me down.
After the shower, I changed into a loose gown and collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking. Who would've thought that behind all that dark exterior, Norman actually had a heart?
Still, my thoughts slowly drifted to the guy I saw shirtless at the boys' dorm. He and Norman were honestly on the same level when it came to looks. My mind kept bouncing between both of them as I started dozing off.
Suddenly, I was jolted back to reality by the sound of Mirabel slamming her laptop shut, drawers in hand.
“Hey, Mirabel, what was that for?” I asked, sitting up.
“No, no, no—ugh, this stupid program won't run! It just keeps throwing errors,” she groaned.
Wait—Mirabel’s a programmer?
“Meh, I only do it for bad stuff,” she said casually, waving her hand. “I love programming, but I mostly use it for myself. You know, like hacking into people's phones or websites.”
I raised a brow, surprised she doesn't look like one.
“I’m actually a programmer too,” I say, stretching out on the bed. “But I mostly use it to hack into James' phone, and all I ever find are nudes from all the girls he's slept with. He’s such an idiot—but still, my best friend.”
Mirabel looked up at me and burst into laughter. “Ugh, that’s typical. Most hot guys are like that—just skipping around from girl to girl. Nothing serious to expect from them.”
She sighed and tilted her head. “Since you're this undercover programmer, you have to help me. This code keeps throwing errors, and I’m about to lose it.”
I nodded, and she handed me her laptop. It didn’t take long—just a few tweaks. The problem wasn’t even that serious. It was her frustration clouding the obvious.
“All done,” I said, handing the laptop back.
“Wait, what?” Mirabel blinked in disbelief. “Riley! That was so fast! It’s running perfectly now. How’d you even do that? I’ve been stuck for hours!”
“You had a zero division error in the logic,” I explained casually. “Just a simple math slip.”
She stared at me wide-eyed, then grinned. “Girl, you’ve gotta teach me more. I’m so far behind for a genius like you.”
I laughed. “No worries. Anytime you’re ready.”
“Better be soon—before you go all piano genius mode too,” she teased, changing her sitting position.
We laughed together as she moved her laptop off the bed. The room filled with light chatter and a calm vibe, a welcome break from all the chaos.
I don’t know what exactly moves me to say it, but I turn to her and tap her arm.
“Mirabel… can I trust you with something? Like, for real?”
She shrugs, playful but sincere. “Yeah, sure. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
I sigh, playing with the hem of my gown. “I know it sounds crazy—and maybe it’s too soon, especially since I've only met you guys since today , —but…”
She leans in, sensing the weight of my words.
“I think… I think I have a crush on someone.”
Her brows shoot up. “Ooooh, spill! Who is he?”
I hesitate for a beat before blurting, “ Norman.”
“Norman?” she echoes. “I don’t think I’ve heard you mention him.”
“He’s… my best friend’s best friend. You know James? Norman’s like… his closest guy.”
“Ohhh, I get it now,” she says, connecting the dots. “So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know,” I groan, flopping back onto the bed. “It’s just—he’s annoying, a complete jerk most times, but then… he’s not. And that’s the problem.”
Mirabel gives me that knowing smirk. “Girl. You’ve got it bad.”
“No, you don’t get it,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Norman… he’s not just some guy. He used to bully me. Back in our old school, he made my life hell.”
Mirabel’s face drops. “Wait, his that bad?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. So when I transferred here, I thought I’d finally escaped him. But guess what? James had the brilliant idea to invite him here too. And now… I think I have a crush on him. A big one. And that’s the real problem.”
Mirabel frowns. “Riley…”
“I know it’s messed up,” I cut in quickly. “He’s still kind of a jerk. Still acts like he’s untouchable. And he’s like James too—probably sleeping with every girl who flirts with him. He has to have a girlfriend, right? I mean, look at him.”
She doesn’t say anything for a second, just stares at me.
Then she sighs. “Ouch. You’ve really got it bad, girl. I’m sorry.”
I manage a weak smile. “Yeah. Me too.”
I wave it off, forcing a smile. “But it's not a big deal, really". I lie hoping she doesn't hear the crack in my voice "I’ve been holding it in since middle school, so it’s not like I’m new to this confusion.”
Mirabel gives me a look—half concern, half curiosity—but I cut her off with a soft laugh.
“You know what? We’ll continue this conversation later,” I say, turning to my side and pulling the blanket up. “Good night.”
She stays quiet for a moment, then murmurs, “Good night, Riley.”
I close my eyes, thinking maybe—just maybe—I’ll stop lying to myself someday. But not now. I finally doze off, anticipation buzzing for whatever tomorrow holds.
***
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