TragedyCollege was supposed to be the "best years of my life," or so the movies said. But as I sat in the humid lecture hall of the Business Administration building, I felt like I was serving a four-year sentence for a crime I didn't commit.
I didn't choose International Business and Trade. My parents did. They spoke about "market stability" and "corporate ladders" like they were reciting holy scripture, never once noticing that my heart was nowhere near a spreadsheet."You look like you're sucking on a lemon, Synde," my seatmate whispered, nudging me.
"Still bitter because you're the only one in the department who hasn't had a boyfriend since the dawn of time?"I didn't even turn my head.
"I'm not bitter. I'm selective. There's a difference."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that," she giggled.
"Maybe if you didn't look like you wanted to fire everyone you make eye contact with, a guy might actually dare to say hello.
"I ignored her, my black eyes fixed on the clock. It was a boring Tuesday afternoon, the air thick with the scent of floor wax and student desperation. I was lost in a daydream—one where I was anywhere but here—when a sudden, violent force slammed into my shoulder.
"Ouch! What on earth—?" I snapped, my body jolting sideways.My classmate was already halfway down the aisle, looking frantic.
"Sorry, Synde! I didn't mean to! I'm literally about to pee my pants!
"I rolled my eyes so hard it actually hurt. My shoulder throbbed, my mood was in the gutter, and the professor chose that exact moment to stand up and adjust his glasses.
"Okay, time is up," the professor announced, his voice echoing against the whiteboards.
"Pass your papers to the front. One... two...
"My blood turned to ice. I looked down at my desk."Are you serious, sir?" I whispered under my breath.I was only on number three of a ten-page essay requirement. My friends had seen the syllabus and strategically planned to be "absent" today, leaving me alone to face the executioner.
"Seven... eight... nine..."Panicked, I scribbled one last, nonsensical sentence and stood up. My legs felt like jelly as I walked to the front of the room. I practically threw my paper onto the pile, praying to every deity I knew that he wouldn't notice the massive amount of white space on my sheet.
"Goodbye, class," he said, tucking the stack under his arm.I didn't wait for him to change his mind. I grabbed my bag and bolted for the exit. I just wanted to go home, crawl under my covers, and forget that the "Future Business Leader" my parents wanted was currently failing at writing a basic essay.But as I rounded the corner of the hallway, I wasn't looking where I was going. And for the second time that day, I was about to collide with reality.
A heavy, solid thud echoed through the hallway as I slammed into something that definitely wasn't a wall. My bag slipped from my shoulder, spilling my pens and a very half-baked textbook onto the floor.
"Watch it!" I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut glass. My "anti-romance" exterior was already at a boiling point from the essay disaster. I looked up, ready to unleash four years of repressed frustration on whoever was in my way.
Instead, I found myself staring at a varsity jacket and a pair of amused, dark eyes.
"Whoa, slow down there, Business Major," the guy said. He didn't look flustered at all. In fact, he was smiling—a lazy, confident grin that made my stomach do a weird, annoying flip.
"The building isn't on fire, is it? Or did you just see a ghost in the accounting office?"
"You're in the way," I said, ignoring his joke. I knelt to grab my things, my face heating up.
"I'm Liam," he said, crouching down to help me.
His hand reached for a stray piece of paper—the very same one I'd been doodling on during the lecture. Before I could snatch it back, he held it up. His eyebrows shot up.
'I HATE INTERNATIONAL TRADE' written in calligraphy?
Wow. You're not just bitter, Synde; you're artistic about it."
I froze.
"How do you know my name?"
He stood up, towering over me, and handed the paper back with a wink that felt like a challenge.
"Hard not to notice the girl who looks like she's planning a corporate takeover during every lunch break. You're famous for that scowl, you know."
"I don't have time for this," I muttered, shoving the paper into my bag and pushing past him.
"And I'm not bitter. I'm busy."
"Sure you are!" he called out after me, his voice echoing down the hall.
"See you tomorrow, Synde! Try not to fail any more essays!"
I didn't look back. I couldn't. My heart was thumping against my ribs—not because of romance, I told myself, but because of pure, unadulterated rage.
Little did I know, that was the first of a thousand times Liam would get under my skin. He was the Engineering student who didn't belong in my building, the guy who didn't believe in my "Anti-Romance" walls, and eventually, the man who would be sitting across from me in a boardroom four years later, holding my entire career in his hands.
But for now, he was just the guy who saw my secret. And I hated him for it.
NOT SPECTEDDD
The heavy office door clicked shut behind me, sounding like the lid of a coffin. I stood in the quiet, sterile hallway, staring at the giant red 5.0 bleeding through the paper.
My vision blurred for a second. It wasn't just a grade; it was a paper trail of my failure. If my parents saw this, the "talks" about my future would turn into a lecture that would last until graduation.
"Rough day at the office, Synde?"
I jumped, nearly dropping the evidence of my academic demise. Leaning against the lockers directly opposite the office was Liam.
He wasn't wearing his varsity jacket this time—just a black hoodie with the sleeves pushed up, revealing forearms that looked far too sturdy for a guy who spent his time in a lab.
"Are you following me?" I hissed, quickly folding the paper and shoving it into the side pocket of my bag.
"The Engineering block is two buildings away. Why are you even here?"
He tilted his head, a stray lock of dark hair falling over his forehead.
"I had to drop off some paperwork for the Dean. And I happened to see a very grumpy Business student marching toward Marasigan's office like she was heading to her own execution."
He stepped closer, invading my personal bubble. He smelled like mint and cold air.
"So? Did he chop your head off, or just give you a light scolding?"
"It's none of your business," I snapped, trying to walk past him.
But Liam was faster. He stepped into my path, his hand resting on the locker next to my head, effectively blocking my escape.
"You're a terrible liar, Synde. Your face is as red as the ink on that paper you just hid."
"Move, Liam."
"I heard he's assigning a partner for the sustainable tech project," he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone.
The playfulness was still there, but there was something else—a spark of challenge.
"Word is, he picked the 'top' Engineering student. That would be me."
I froze. I looked up at him, my breath hitching. Up close, I could see the golden flecks in his dark eyes. He wasn't just handsome; he was observant. He saw right through the "Anti-Romance" mask I spent every morning putting on.
"You're the partner?" I whispered, my heart doing that annoying, frantic stutter again.
"Lucky you," he smirked, leaning in just a fraction closer.
"You get to spend the next month with the guy who knows your deepest, darkest secret."
"It's not a secret," I defended, though my voice lacked its usual bite.
"I just... I don't like the major. That's it."
"And you don't like romance. And you don't like me," he added, ticking them off on his fingers. He pulled back, giving me space, but the smirk stayed.
"That's a lot of 'anti' energy for one girl, Synde. I'm starting to think you're just scared of actually liking something for once."
I gripped my bag straps until they hurt. "I'm not scared. I'm realistic. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a 'realistic' amount of studying to do."
I pushed past him, my heels clicking loudly on the linoleum floor. I didn't look back, but I could feel his gaze on me the entire way down the hall.
"See you at the library tomorrow, Partner!" he called out. "And don't be late! I know how much you hate being 'unprofessional'!"
I reached the exit and burst out into the afternoon heat, my heart racing. I wasn't just bitter. I was in deep, deep trouble. Because for the first time in my life, I wasn't thinking about spreadsheets or my parents' expectations.
I was thinking about the way Liam's eyes crinkled when he teased me.
No, I shook my head, walking faster toward the bus stop. I am Synde. I am Anti-Romance. And I am going to survive this project without falling for that arrogant Engineering boy.
But as I looked down at my hands, I realized they were still shaking.