All my life, I always thought love would turn out the way it's described in fairy tales... but I guess I got it all wrong.
It was a bright, sunny Tuesday morning. I was still lying on my bed, lost in endless thoughts about how the day might go. Can't say too much aside from the fact that I'm an overthinker—with some disorders, maybe. (Don't ask. Lol.)
"Hey Nathan, are you planning to skip school today just like yesterday?" Daphne called out from the hallway.
That's Daphne—my housemate. We met years ago at summer camp, randomly crossed paths again recently, and decided to live together. Daphne could be annoying and nosy, but she was also super useful. Perfect combo for a friend and housemate, I guess.
I dragged myself off the bed and headed for the bathroom to freshen up. As I was getting dressed, my eyes caught this pair of loafers I'd been saving for a special occasion. Why not today? I thought to myself. First day back at school—might as well show up looking like something special.
I picked out my crisp white trousers, paired them with a black tee neatly tucked in, and tied a silk scarf around my neck to finish the look. It layered perfectly. As I admired myself in the mirror, wondering how many compliments I'd rack up today, Daphne sneaked in.
You spend way too much time in front of that mirror. Greet your imaginary friends trapped in there on my behalf," she teased.
"Could you do more complimenting than squealing? It takes effort to look this good, you know."
Daphne burst into loud laughter and walked out, still muttering under her breath.
Life as a 15th grader couldn't be too much of a fuss… right? It's all just fun, vibes, and the occasional drama.
Later that day…
Lunch break came faster than expected. I wasn't even hungry—just needed to breathe. The cafeteria was loud, usual noise. Same faces. Same drama.
Then they walked in.
Her. And them.
Three girls, one leading, the others two steps behind like they were extras in her movie. And she? She looked like she could break hearts just by looking at you—and she probably had. Long braids, slick edges, glassy lip gloss, soft pink nails. She had that soft look, yeah—but I could tell softness didn't mean harmless.
She scanned the room, eyes sharp but lazy, like she'd seen it all before and was unimpressed. She sat at the center table like it was reserved for royalty.
And then, plot twist—she looked at me.
Direct eye contact. Calm. Dangerous.
I blinked like an idiot. Is she actually looking at me or at someone behind me? I glanced over my shoulder. Nope. Just me.
She tilted her head slightly, like she could already tell I was confused.
"Are you gonna keep staring or say something?" she asked, lips curling into a smile—but the kind of smile that could turn into an insult if you said the wrong thing.
Her girls giggled, already clocking me like prey.
I cleared my throat. "Is this seat taken?"
"It is now," she said, sliding her phone across the table like she was allowing me into her world. "But don't embarrass yourself. First impressions matter."
Oof. Toxic, but pretty. Dangerous combination.
"Nathan," I said, giving her the best version of my I'm cool, I swear face. "Professional overthinker. Fashion icon on weekends."
She smirked. "Cute. I'm Zaria. Heartbreaker, occasionally polite. Depends on the weather."
Her friends laughed again. One of them whispered something, and Zaria rolled her eyes like she was bored already—but she was still looking right at me.
"You always interview new students like this?" I asked, trying not to look nervous.
"Only the ones that dress like they know they're cute."
Touche..