The lecture hall glowed with serene beauty. Sleek, glass-panelled walls extended high to a ceiling of clean lines and polished steel. The tiled floor was covered in beautiful, golden stripes, and sunlight streamed in through large windows, catching the sharp edges of desks. The mood was intentional and refined, as if the future was being sculpted, and every whisper held significance.
The conversation was quiet and fast, like a stream running beneath the surface. Students sat sideways in their seats, some taking notes, while others discussed last night's party and the previous assessment.
Two girls sat in a corner, leaning against each other like friends do when words are shared in secret tones.
Jill Andrew rested her chin on her palm, her eyes shining with something gentler than mischief but brighter than daydreams. Alice frowned in playful scepticism next to her.
"You're looking extra chipper today," Alice observed, the corners of her smile quirking up. "What is the secret?" Wait, I presume your father has returned?"
Jill shook her head, her lips quirked into a slight smile. "Nope. He's still working in the country he knows best."
"Your mom quit her job?" Alice asked.
She laughed. "You know she won't do that. She's wired to keep going. Even when there's no reason to."
Alice leaned in, teasing now. "Okay, so what then? Why are you acting that way?
Jill gazed down, brushing away an invisible dirt from her skirt, her lips twitching in a cheeky half-smile. "I had a dream last night," she murmured gently, almost as if the words were not meant to be heard.
Alice raised an eyebrow. "A dream?"
Before Jill could elaborate, a sudden loud whoop burst through the air like a stone dropped in still water.
"What the—" Alice spun toward the noise and saw Adex Wilfred behind him.
He strode down the aisle as if it belonged to him, confidence written on every step. "Hey, Alice," he said with a broad smile, as if he hadn't just burst their bubble.
Alice rolled her eyes. "Adex. Seriously? What part of private conversation don't you get?"
Adex raised his hands, smiling undeterred. "Just curious. You know I like to—"
Jill got up and left before he could say anything else.
He tilted his head and watched her leave with a half-confused, half-wounded expression.
"What did I say this time?" he muttered, mostly to himself.
Alice laughed, shaking her head. "She hates you because you keep hovering around her like a lost puppy."
"I wish I could stop," Adex said with a sigh. "But I can't. I like her. Like... really like her. I can't get her out of my head."
"She doesn't like you," Alice said plainly.
"That hurts." He placed a hand to his chest, mock-offended. Then, quick to recover, he turned to her with a smile. "But hey—how about I take you out instead? I could use your company to get her attention."
Alice stood, slipping her bag over one shoulder. "Thanks, but I'm not interested."
He reached out, his fingers brushing across her arm, his voice lower. "Alice, I mean it." I like your friend. Speak to her on my behalf."
She turned, her face calm and her voice flat. "In your dreams."
He stood there as she walked away, her footsteps resonating on the tile.
Ben sat still, forced to watch as Jill and Alice tore into him mercilessly, destroying his dignity in front of everyone. He stood across from them, powerless to intervene, and watched the incident. When it was over and Alice turned her back and walked away, Ben stood, his chest heavy with emotion, and approached Adex, who remained immobile. His eyes locked on Anna as she walked through the entrance, as if trying to make sense of what had just happened.
"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" Ben asked, leaning casually against a desk.
Adex exhaled. "You think she's not into me?"
Ben didn't even blink. "I'm one hundred and one per cent sure she's not into you."
Adex smirked. "We'll see about that."
Adex walked off, whistling to no one.
Ben watched him leave, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. There was pity in his eyes, but he was not surprised. He shook his head, already knowing Adex wouldn't take the warning seriously, then turned and returned to his seat.
Adex Wilfred had always been the type of person who kept his emotions close enough to the surface to be seen but never touched. Adex, a dedicated and kind man with a mind sharper than most knives, walked through life with a spark of wonder in his eyes. He sat up late researching complicated ideas, psychology threads, and human behaviour studies—not for grades or recognition, but because he genuinely wanted to understand why people were the way they were. And he had an uncomfortable ability to read people.
On campus, he was recognised for his soothing laugh, intelligence, and unusual ability to predict what people were thinking before they expressed it. Professors liked him. His peers respected him. Some envied him. But, despite everything, Adex Wilfred's heart had quietly belonged to one person since the first week of school: Jill Andrew.
It happened on Tuesday.
He came to the lecture hall to meet Ben Jacob, a hostel mate he had known for many years. As he entered the lecture room, his gaze wandered across the gathering of half-distracted students before coming to a halt. Jill was seated alone in the back, her expression unreadable even amid those surrounding her. Something about her posture struck him: remote, distant, yet composed. She wasn't simply quiet; she was lonely, but managing to conceal it.
He approached her with the same calm energy he always possessed. "You look a little lost," he added, tilting his head with a questioning grin. "I think what you need is a friend."
Jill stared up at him, her eyes narrowed and guarded. She said nothing. But her stillness was firm; she grasped the pen, and a subtle shift in posture confirmed what he suspected. He had struck a nerve. Too deep and too early.
She stood and went away, her rejection obvious, but her reason unspoken.
She felt insulted and refused to let a stranger see her true self.
Adex has never forgotten that moment.
Jill kept her distance from him after that, upset not just by his remarks, but also by how perfectly he perceived her anguish. She did not want kindness if it meant being exposed. Her loneliness was her own; she guarded it like a hidden garden with thorn borders.
Ben warned him earlier. "Do not chase her, dude. She's unlike other girls. "She won't let you in." However, Adex was unable to stop himself. Something about Jill appealed to a part of him that wanted to understand, help, and hold.
But the more he tried, the more she dismissed him. Ben ultimately stopped helping, frustrated by Adex's insistence. "She doesn't like you," he would reply, shrugging. "She's not going to."
Adex refused to give up. He turned to Alice, Jill's close friend, hoping she could help bridge the gap. He attempted jokes, flattery, even silent pleadings, but Alice, who was devoted to Jill and suspicious of Adex's motives, consistently turned him down.
Despite this, Adex remained unbothered. Whenever he walked past Jill in the corridor or saw her sitting alone in the library, he felt the same strain in his chest. He didn't just like her. He believed in her. He could see the aspects of her that she tried to conceal. And something inside him desperately hoped that she might notice him one day.