INT – CLASSROOM – 7:30 AM
First day of the semester.
The classroom buzzed with that sleepy morning energy—bags being unzipped, keyboards tapping, students yawning behind half-raised hands. Most of them looked like they were still mourning the end of their break.
Then the door creaked open.
Everyone fell silent, like someone had pressed mute.
The professor walked in, calm and collected, commanding the room with nothing but her presence.
"I hope you all had a restful break," she said with a warm but firm tone. "Before we begin, I have a small announcement."
She paused just long enough to let curiosity bloom.
"You have a new classmate joining us this semester. Please welcome her kindly. Ms. Asfault, come in."
That was my cue.
I pushed open the door, trying to walk in with confidence, even though my heart was bouncing like a basketball.
"Good morning, everyone!" I said brightly. "I'm Zafire Asfault—but my friends call me Fire! And I really hope you'll be my friends!"
I gave a deep bow, maybe a bit too deep. But hey—first impressions count.
I felt their stares. Some curious. Some confused. A few amused. But no one looked hostile, so that was a win. Surprisingly the class or maybe majority of the people in the university were mixed races, that a good impression right? A lot of people go here to study, I thought I only meet few asian if lucky but I already a lot, not only that there are
The professor smiled faintly. "Ms. Asfault, you're seated next to Mr. Atlas."
I glanced at the seating chart, then made my way through the room with a cheerful bounce, looking for my seatmate.
And then I saw him.
Sitting like a statue—perfect posture, eyes straight ahead, not even blinking as I got closer. His dark hair framed a sharp jawline, and his whole vibe screamed mysterious. Cold. Unreadable.
I slipped into the seat next to him, sneaking a peek.
Nothing.
He didn't even glance at me. I wasn't used to that. People usually at least smiled or nodded. Especially after an entrance like that.
The professor began the lesson. "Today, we'll be learning how to cook recipes from various cultures. The goal is not just to cook, but to understand their traditions."
Normally, that would've had me leaning forward in excitement. But between jet lag and two hours of sleep, my body was staging a full-on rebellion.
I fought to keep my eyes open. My legs bounced under the desk. My fingers tapped against my notebook in random rhythms. I tried paying attention, but my brain kept floating off.
I peeked at the guy next to me again. Still motionless.
Was he ignoring me on purpose?
I leaned in slightly, my voice low but upbeat. "Hey there! I'm Fire," I whispered. "What's your name?"
I offered him a hand to shake, all friendly and open.
He didn't move.
Seriously?
I blinked. Then pulled my hand back like I'd reached into the freezer. Rude.
Okay, no big deal. Maybe he's shy.
But then I tapped the edge of his desk with my pinky. "Psst! Hello? Mister I'm-too-cool-for-words? Are you always this quiet, or is it just me?"
Still no reaction. Not even a side glance.
I slouched with a pout, resting my cheek on one hand. "Okay. Be mysterious. See if I care." I muttered under my breath. "But I will get you to talk. One way or another."
And just then—he moved.
Barely.
He turned his head and met my gaze, eyes a striking pale gray. Something flickered behind them. Amusement?
A tiny smirk tugged at the edge of his lips.
Then—back to ignoring me.
Oh, he was definitely playing a game. And now I was part of it.
I didn't come here to stand out. I wanted to live quietly for once. A normal school life. But maybe… making one friend wouldn't hurt.
Even if that friend was a human iceberg.