Chapter 4

[Elara’s POV]

My hopes fell as soon as I saw an elderly, silver-haired man stroll up to the podium. He opened his briefcase and prepared his materials for class.

So, this was Professor Abram, I thought. A melancholy feeling seeped into my chest.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said.

His eyes shifted to me, then to Jasmine. "We're starting now. Any discussions can wait until the lecture is over."

The dizzying anticipation that had short-circuited my brain sank. Of course, their last names were different. There was no way the new professor was Killian.

Class went on as normal until we reached the last fifteen minutes. During that time, I stepped up and assisted the students with whatever questions they had regarding the covered lesson.

But every so often, my attention was broken and drawn to Jasmine’s group of friends. She and they made ongoing disruptions. They were chatting animatedly amongst themselves and went as far as to toss rumpled-up paper at one another in jest.

I knew Jasmine was doing all of this to deliberately cause trouble. But even my patience had its limit.

By the third time I stopped to turn to their group, I walked up to Jasmine and leaned over her desk.

“Whatever you’re doing, stop it,” I said firmly. “I told you before, there’s nothing going on between me and Brad anymore. I've moved on.”

Jasmine raised her brow in a mocking manner. Again, her lips curled into a pompous smirk.

“Oh, please. As if there's an upgrade from Brad around here. Don't tell me you’ve managed to find someone else? A new and better boyfriend, perhaps?” she questioned challengingly.

Good God. I should have backed down. Or at the very least, I should have ignored her. But no. I let my pride get in the way.

“Actually, yes,” I said. “He’s tall, has dark, wavy hair, and the nicest pair of brown eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Why the hell was I describing Killian?!

This only seemed to enthrall Jasmine’s little game of taunting me. She braced her hands on the desk and stood up.

With a provocative smile, she spoke. “Oh, is that so? Well, why don’t you bring this ‘new’ boyfriend of yours to the party Alex’s frat house is hosting this Friday? Brad and I would love to meet this new friend of yours.”

Say no. Say no. Say no.

“Sure, why not?” I replied stiffly.

When the final bell rang out and the class was dismissed, I immediately headed back to my dorm. I picked up the nearest pillow I saw and screamed into it.

“Oh, what the actual hell is wrong with me?” I shouted. An awful feeling of regret seeped into me. “Why on earth did I say those things? And why the hell did I actually agree to go to that stupid party?”

Ava cleared her throat, wanting to know what sparked such a random outburst. Having told her what transpired during class, a bright smile curved across her face. She gently clapped her hands together in excitement.

I shook my head in irritation. “None of this is good, Ava. I have no one to bring with me. I’m not going.”

Ava planted her hands on her hips in refusal. “Absolutely not. Not going would mean accepting defeat to Brad and his bitchy little ma—girlfriend,” she argued. “In any case, I heard a strong rumor that there’s a hot, mysterious newcomer on campus. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Just like the guy you met at the pub.”

“I highly doubt that,” I mumbled. I had no intention of falling into the same trap again.

Ava shrugged. “Who knows, maybe this will be your chance to meet him again.”

Not giving me another chance to refuse, Ava stepped close and grasped my shoulders. "And the most important thing is that you are not going down without a fight. We're going to make sure Brad sees exactly what he lost."

Oh, God. What the hell was I doing?? Why am I subjecting myself to this? Me and my damn big mouth...

Friday night had come quicker than I wanted, and there I was dressed in what had to be the most revealing piece of clothing I had ever dared to wear.

Ava claimed the dress would make every man at the party drool. I wasn't the slightest bit interested in another schoolboy, but her comment about being the mature allure planted a seed in my mind. If there was even the remotest possibility of seeing Killian again, I needed him to see this side of me.

My nerves were on edge as I arrived at the party with the firm intention of staying for no more than an hour. But Ava had been right. The rumor about there being a new dark-haired stranger on campus had circulated around in booming waves.

It seemed to be all that anyone was willing to talk about. Mostly everyone was huddled up in their respective groups. Many were eagerly chatting away about who they predicted this person to be.

“Ooo, I hear he carries a mature and complex air about himself,” one girl hummed.

Another snorted into their red solar cup. “If that’s the case, then there’s no chance he’s an undergraduate.”

“No, he’s definitely a graduate student.”

God, I felt so out of place. Ever since Brad threw away our relationship, I’d gone back to my usual introverted habits. I was never one to hustle up to gossip to begin with, let alone go to frat parties.

Deep down, I knew I didn’t belong in a place like this. And I was even more out of my depth having worn this ridiculously short skirt. All I had to hang on to was the slim hope that Killian would actually make an appearance.

Christ, I really am delusional again, aren’t I?

Why would I have ever thought that Killian would have shown up? To a friggin’ frat party, no less. Regret began to stir in the back of my mind.

I had to stop trying to trace every coincidence back to Killian. This newcomer to campus could literally have been away one, but least of all him.

There’s no way that he would be a grad student, I thought angrily to myself.

I slowly began to brace myself for yet another miserable, pathetic case of mistaken identity.

Without wasting another moment, I turned on my heels to leave. But before I could even leave the main room, I heard Brad calling out my name.

“Elara!”

I cursed under my breath and turned back to find his arm hanging intimately around Jasmine’s shoulders. The girl wore a smug smile on her painted lips, easily relishing in my obvious discomfort.

“So, where’s this incredible new boyfriend of yours?” she inquired sharply.