"Let's bunk the next class. What do you say?"
The classroom buzzed with chatter. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting long shadows on the tiled floor. The scent books lingered in the air, mixing with the faint whir of the ceiling fan. The teacher had left a few minutes ago, and everyone was busy talking. In the midst of it all, Ryan turned to me with that familiar mischievous grin.
Ryan. I met him in my first year of college. Surprisingly, we had gone to the same high school, but our paths had never crossed. Ryan had black hair, green eyes and a mascular body with a height of 179 cm. Compared to him I was only 167cm with silvery hair and blue eyes. He was a good guy at heart—loyal, easygoing—but, like me, he had a knack for trouble.
"Well, Solace? You in?" he asked again, nudging my arm.
I wasn't exactly against the idea.
"Let's go before the next teacher arrives."
We grabbed our bags and slipped out of the classroom.
CPS College—one of the most renowned institutions in Tevart City—had a massive campus, which meant plenty of places to hide. We walked past the main building, where students moved in clusters, some heading to the cafeteria, others chatting on the stairs. The air smelled of freshly cut grass, and the occasional honk from the street outside blended into the distant hum of the campus.
We headed toward the playground, where rows of trees lined the edges. The thick branches provided perfect cover, shielding us from any passing faculty members. The grass was slightly damp from the morning dew, cool beneath our hands as we sat down.
Ryan plopped down, stretching his arms behind his head. The sun filtered through the leaves, dappling his face with shifting patterns of light and shadow.
"What do you think about her? She's good, right?"
"Who?" I asked, confused.
"Lana, man. Lana."
Ah. That explained it. He was talking about his crush.
Lana was in our class, but she was the kind of person you'd only notice if you were paying close attention. Quiet, reserved. She never really stood out.
"I don't know much about her, so I can't say," I admitted.
Ryan sighed, probably disappointed by my lack of enthusiasm. But he didn't press the topic. We talked about random things until the bell rang, signaling the end of the period. With two more classes left, we reluctantly made our way back.
After college, I returned to my apartment.
The streets were buzzing with life—cars honking, vendors calling out their wares, the occasional laughter of passersby. My apartment complex was tucked away in a quieter part of town, a modest three-story building with peeling paint and narrow staircases.
I unlocked my door and stepped inside. The room smelled faintly of old books and instant noodles. The bed was unmade, papers scattered across the desk, a half-empty cup of coffee from this morning still sitting there. It wasn't much—bare walls, a bed, a desk—but it was enough.
With a sigh, I tossed my bag onto the chair, took a quick shower, and lay down. The hum of the ceiling fan blended with the distant sounds of the city outside. My body relaxed, and before I knew it, I drifted into an afternoon nap.
When I woke up, the sky outside had turned a dusky orange. Time for some coffee.
There was a cafe a short walk from my apartment—a small setup with chairs and the comforting smell of freshly brewed coffee. The stall owner, an old man with a white beard, worked skillfully, pouring the steaming liquid from one glass to another to cool it down. A few other customers sat nearby, lost in quiet conversations.
I ordered a cup and leaned against the wooden counter, savoring the warmth as the evening breeze picked up.
Brrr... Brrr...
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Claire.
So, it's her, huh?
Claire and I had known each other since kindergarten. We'd been inseparable back then, but five years ago, her father was transferred to another city, and her family moved away. We lost contact for a while—kids don't exactly exchange phone numbers.
Then, out of the blue, three years after she left, my phone rang with an unknown number.
"Is this Solace?" a sweet, familiar voice had asked.
"Yeah… Who's this?"
"You idiot. It's me. Claire."
That was how we reconnected. Since then, we'd kept in touch.
Brrr... Brrr...
The phone kept ringing, pulling me out of my thoughts. Man, she sure knows how to interrupt a peaceful coffee break.
I sighed and answered the call.
"Yo, Solace!" A cheerful voice rang from the other side of the call.
"You sound happy," I remarked, sipping my tea.
"I am happy! Guess why?"
"Miss, you've already ruined my peaceful moment. Don't throw riddles at me now," I grumbled. She really did disturb my quiet tea time.
"So what if I did?" she huffed playfully. "I met Lily today! After so many days, we finally hung out."
"Lily? Your best friend?"
Best friend. I don't know what this word truly means. What qualifies someone to be a bestie? Spending all your time together? Being willing to sacrifice your life for them? Ha, that would be too dramatic.
Claire met Lily after she got admitted there. They clicked instantly, becoming so close that they now call each other best friends.
"Yes! It was so much fun!"
"Is this Lily beautiful?" I asked, leaning back. I mean, I'm a guy after all. A single guy at that.
"Don't even think about it, Solace." Her tone turned sharp. "Lily won't give you the time of day. She's turned down plenty of boys before. She's ruthless with her words."
Ruthless with her words? Turned down many guys?
"Interesting," I murmured.
"What do you mean, interesting?" Claire snapped. "I'm warning you, Solace—don't get any funny ideas about her. She's precious to me."
The seriousness in her voice was unmistakable.
"Relax. I was just asking."
We talked for a few more minutes before she hung up.
Lily... The way Claire spoke about her.. Protective? More like possessive. Just who is this girl? Interesting.