CHAPTER I

Lyka

I hate being late for classes.

Honestly, I am always an early bird. The kind of student who never shows up late. However, there’s always that one day. The day when getting out of bed feels impossible despite the alarm blaring endlessly. I guess today is that day for me.

I glance down at my watch and the realization hits.

I am going to be completely late.

And not just for any class

Calculus.

Who in their right mind is late for this class?

Me. Apparently.

Mr. Harry, the Calculus lecturer is attractive. There, I said it. It’s probably inappropriate to describe my twenty-nine-year-old professor that way, but I would be lying if I said other students don’t say worse.

He has piercing steel-gray eyes, dark brown hair, an almost angelic smile, and broad shoulders. Sometimes I am convinced he doesn’t belong in the real world.

Honestly, I’m sure most girls are putting themselves through Calculus torture just for him. There’s one admirable and extremely annoying—thing about him though.

He is always on time.

Crap.

I rush through the hallways like a mad person, ignoring the curious stares. I’ll deal with those later. It’s not like people minding their own business is a thing on this campus anyway.

By the time I reach the lecture room, I am sweaty and breathless. I check my watch again.

Five minutes late.

It can’t be that bad… right?

After taking a few steadying breaths and making a weak attempt to smooth my platinum blonde hair, I knock timidly.

The moment the door opens, my body tenses.

Mr. Harry.

I quickly avert my gaze, my eyes dropping to his light blue dress shirt. It’s paired with black slacks that highlight his strong legs. Honestly, if he weren’t a lecturer, he could easily be on the cover of magazines.

There’s also that watch on his wrist. Clearly vintage and expensive, though I can’t make out the brand.

I lift my eyes back to his face. Up close, I notice a faint brown ring around his irises, making his gaze even more hypnotizing.

“Earth to Lyka?”

His voice snaps me out of it.

How long have I been staring?

Embarrassment floods through me. I have definitely been staring longer than I should have. Fantastic.

“Mrs. Moore, you are late.” he mutters.

Like I didn’t already know that.

“I am sorry, sir.” I reply quickly, licking my lips nervously.

For a split second, I am sure his eyes flicker to my lips before returning to my face.

“You know the rules, Moore. I dislike laziness and being late is a sign of it.”

His tone is firm. I feel like shrinking into the floor under his scrutiny.

Arguing would only make things worse, so I give him my best innocent look. The one my best friend Sam swears works wonders.

He studies me for a moment, and something in his gaze makes my heart skip.

“Mrs. Moore, I’ll excuse you this time because you’re one of my best students. But there won’t be another chance.” he finally says.

Relief washes over me instantly.

“It won’t happen again. I promise.”

He steps aside, and I quickly move into the classroom, eager to minimize further attention.

“Mrs. Moore.”

I freeze mid-step and turn back.

He’s smirking.

“I like your shoes. Mickey Mouse suits you.”

Oh no.

I look down.

My Mickey Mouse slippers sit proudly on my feet.

“Shit!” I mutter under my breath.

Fantastic. Just perfect.

Trying to brush off the embarrassment, I give him a sheepish look before continuing my walk. My very public walk of shame to the back of the room.

I have never been a front-bencher, and I am not about to start now.

Still, the silence in the room is deafening. I can practically feel every single pair of eyes on me. Somewhere nearby, Yvonne is quietly humming Rude Boy by Rihanna, which somehow makes this even worse.

As I pass between desks, the stares burn into my back. Apparently, I look worse than I thought.

Then, of course, things get worse.

I bump into Trevor’s desk, sending his notebook and pencil crashing to the floor.

“Sorry.” I mumble, crouching to pick them up.

And just as I stand, my head collides with the desk with a bang.

Giggles ripple through the room.

Great.

“Sorry.” I repeat, handing his things back.

“Weirdo.” Trevor mutters.

I shoot him a glare. I am already embarrassed enough.

For a brief moment, I consider knocking some sense into him. I did learn a few things in those judo classes my mom forced me into last year.

Her voice echoes in my head. You don’t solve anything with violence.

Ugh.

Trevor isn’t exactly my favorite person anyway mostly because he’s on the basketball team. The same team my ex-boyfriend captains. Given past encounters, I am not surprised he’s a jerk.

Finally, I reach my seat beside Keith.

Keith Goodchild, my neighbor since freshman year and one of my closest friends.

“You okay, beautiful?” he asks.

I give him a look that clearly says What do you think?

“Just asking.” he mutters defensively.

I ignore him and pull out my notebook as Mr. Harry begins writing on the board.

“Did you get laid last night?” Keith whispers.

I turn slowly and glare.

“Relax,” he says quickly, raising his hands. “I mean… look at you. Bed hair. Slippers. Mickey Mouse, really?”

Did he have to remind me?

“Not everything is about sex, Keith. I missed my alarm, okay?”

“Alright, alright. I get it.”

I sigh, slumping slightly in my seat.

This is going to be a very long day.