(Amelia’s POV)
"Amelia Clinton," I heard my name. The way he said it, the way it sounded, made me freeze. My brain rattled violently with questions pouring, ’Did he just call my name? But why? Why would he? And~ ... why is he even sitting here, right across from me, huhh? When there are tons of vacant seats. Just why? Is this all my imagination? Am I thinking too much about him? My mind must be playing games on me.’
I was so deeply doused in my chain of thoughts that when he mumbled, "Quite charming~ ... when you are focused. Haha~ ...." My instinctive reaction was to flinch. But that was just on the inside, outwardly, I kept a void expression, zeroed my eyes at him and said, "Keep quiet, this is the library." My voice came out much colder, more stoic than normal. Must be because of the pent-up irritation.
I retracted my gaze and looked at the book in front of me, trying to play it cool. But the content that I was finding interesting and intrusive a few minutes ago now looked like some sort of ancient language to me. I couldn’t focus or read a single alphabet.
I tried to peek a glance at that guy, and strangely, he was staring right at me, without blinking. That made me nervous as hell. But why am I feeling this way? Why? What’s the reason? There were countless questions, clogging my brain, with no answer.
After five seconds, when I didn’t utter anything, as if he was bored, I saw his silhouette moving.
He got up and walked away, just like that. I let go of a breath, I didn’t know I was holding, and mumbled to myself, "What was that about? No, wait, Lia. Why are you constantly thinking about him? He just wants to mess up. Get him outta your head, NOW."
Midterm exams were arriving soon. I’d better focus on my grades than any boy drama. Let’s keep far, far away from such things, just like always. I chanted my mantra inside my head and carried on with what I was doing.
Barely two minutes had passed by when I heard a voice, a whisper, calming as the sea, beside my ear, "Help me with this." I couldn’t help but startle, shaking and glancing beside me, simultaneously.
Everyone who was present looked at me with a frown. I settled in my seat once again, gave an apologetic bow and then glared at him. After a pause, I said, my voice muffled, "Denver Brooks, what are you trying to do?"
His brows were knitted together now. Then he leaned towards me even more and said, "Didn’t you offer first?" We were now in such close proximity, only a few inches apart, that I could see every pore, every line, every little detail on his face and backed away instantly.
I spat out, still in a whisper, "Offer what?"
"To ask you when I need help?" he said, giving me a look I quite could not comprehend.
’So, he is saying what I told him on the first day he arrived. The help? You are quite early, dude. Very early,’ I thought. The urge to roll my eyes was so intense, but I held it in.


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