"Displacement," our psych prof began, tapping his marker against the whiteboard like he was trying to wake it up, "is what happens when someone takes their anger out on the wrong target—because the real one's just too scary."
I glanced sideways just in time to catch Angel stifling a yawn. She looked like she was seconds away from dozing off, and somehow, that made me smile.
"Any questions?" Sir asked, scratching his shiny bald head as his eyes swept across the room—landing on the sleepy faces of my classmates who were obviously struggling to stay awake.
Then his gaze stopped at her.
"Angel," he called out.
She flinched like she'd been hit with a snowball. "Can you give me a real-life situation for that?"
I saw her swallow hard before she stood. She peeked at the projector screen like the answer might magically appear there. Then—lip bite. Classic Angel panic mode.
"U-uhm… Sir…" she started, voice all shaky.
"Hm?" he encouraged.
"I… don't get it, hehe."
A soft laugh escaped me before I could help it. Her expression? Like she was being forced to confess a crime she didn't commit. Honestly, she looked like she was about to cry or poop—could be either. I was definitely teasing her later.
Sir gave a small chuckle and waved her back to her seat. Then he scanned the rest of us like a strict airport security guard.
"Eyes up," he warned—not mad, just intense. "Whoever gives me a good example, no quiz for you today."
Suddenly, everyone sat straighter than rulers.
That's when it hit them—all at once, like a wave of regret. No one studied. I was sure of it.
Sean's birthday was yesterday, and instead of reviewing, half the class decided that chugging cheap vodka in someone's garage was a better use of their time.
Then I saw Trisha shoot her hand up like it owed her money.
"Trisha?" Sir called, eyebrows lifting in cautious hope.
She lifted her chin like she was about to drop life-changing wisdom. "Sir, um… it's when… like… you give the situation to… a less scary object?"
A few students burst into laughter. "She just translated it!"
Trisha's proud smirk faded and she slumped back into her chair, face flushed. The rest of the class cracked up, but I caught the small, amused smile tugging at her lips. Embarrassed, sure—but not defeated.
Then I felt Sean elbow me. "Come on. Say something."
I shook my head. "I actually studied. I'm not wasting my shot."
He snorted. "Wow. Straight path kind of girl, huh?"
Just then, Angel stood up again—looking like she suddenly remembered there was a prize involved.
"If… if someone's mad but scared to show it to the real person," she started, clearly unsure, "they… take it out on someone else instead. Someone weaker."
Sir scratched his bald head again like it was a habit at this point. "That's the definition. What's the situation?"
A storm of half-baked answers followed, each more chaotic than the last. Wrong best friends, spilled coffee, angry moms. None of them stuck. It was like watching people throw darts at a spinning target—blindfolded.
And still… no one nailed it.
"Anyone else?" Sir asked, scanning the room with hopeful eyes.
Silence.
His gaze wandered until it locked with mine. Great.
"Sera?" he called.
I heard the exaggerated groans ripple through the room. Some of them even muttered loud enough for me to hear.
"Come on, Sera, you're gonna ace the quiz anyway. Let the rest of us live!"
"Ugh, this is basic stuff for her."
I chuckled under my breath, already standing up. "You guys are so dramatic."
Sir smiled at me, clearly expecting the golden answer like I was his personal encyclopedia. But just as I opened my mouth, something outside the window caught my attention.
Students were passing by, but three figures stood out instantly. I knew two of them—Tristan and Janiel, stars of our university's basketball team. But the one in the middle?
Drev.
The son of our campus director. Infamous for being too handsome for anyone's peace of mind and just dangerous enough to make everyone curious. Girls whispered about him like he was a legend. Boys tried to hate him, but most of them secretly wanted to be him.
They stopped right in front of our classroom, like they were waiting for someone. Drev's eyes wandered—then paused on our window. On me.
Our gazes met.
Like an idiot, I looked away too fast, pretending I was suddenly fascinated by the classroom floor. My heart betrayed me though—it thudded just a little louder in my chest. I could hear some of my classmates gossiping about him under their breath, but I tried to ignore it.
Sir's voice cut through the hum like a siren.
"Alright, class, focus!"
Silence returned. But my thoughts? Still flickering back to a pair of dark eyes staring through the glass like they knew a secret about me I hadn't figured out yet.
I let out a soft sigh before speaking. "I think… displacement usually shows up in parenting."
Sir raised a brow, interested. "Go on."
I gave a small, bitter smile. "There are parents who, when they're stressed from work or fighting with their spouse, they don't confront the real issue. Instead… they unload it on their kids. Because kids are easier. Softer targets. Less likely to fight back."
Sir nodded slowly, and I could feel the whole class leaning into the silence.
"In simpler terms," I continued, "when you're upset or angry at someone, but you're too afraid to face them, you look for someone safer to blame. Someone who won't push back. It's like transferring the weight to someone who never asked to carry it."
That earned a thoughtful hum from Sir. He turned to face the class again with a proud grin.
"Clear and straight to the point. Nicely done, Sera. You're officially exempted from the quiz."
Of course, Sean just had to ruin the moment.
"Only Sera would make trauma sound poetic!" he said dramatically, clutching his chest like he was about to faint.
"Share your grades, girl!" another classmate chimed in.
I rolled my eyes and gave Sean a light smack on the arm. "Stop being weird."
They all laughed, but my smile faltered for a second.
Because I could still feel it.
That gaze.
Through the classroom window, behind the noisy jokes and the teasing, someone was watching me—and it wasn't just curiosity in their eyes. It was something else. Something unreadable.
I tried to ignore it, but my eyes betrayed me.
Just a quick glance. Just a peek.
And there he was.
Drev. Still looking.
Like I was a puzzle he didn't mind wasting time on.
I watched a guy I didn't recognize walk up to their group. A second later, Drev and the others finally moved away from our classroom window.
As they walked down the hallway, it was impossible not to notice how tall Drev was. He moved like he didn't need to try—broad shoulders, arms that clearly lived in the gym, and that jet-black hair that looked like it hadn't seen a drop of product in its life but still managed to fall perfectly in place.
Unfair? Absolutely.
He's a year ahead of us. While we were still freshies trying to survive our first year, Drev, Tristan, and Janiel were already second-year Civil Engineering majors—aka, the golden boys of the department.
"Seats apart," Sir Gabriel announced, pulling everyone back to reality.
Groans followed as my classmates reluctantly distanced themselves from their seatmates, the room filling with the sound of flipping pages and whispered prayers.
I couldn't help but smile watching them panic-review. One thing you learn fast as a psych major? Reading isn't a hobby—it's a lifeline. Especially when it comes to textbooks that feel like they're written in another language. We weren't even done with our first year and our profs had already made it very clear: if you don't read, you don't pass.
Good thing I'm basically married to books.
I stood from my seat and started gathering my things. No quiz for me, thanks to the earlier answer. Angel gave me a death glare from two rows away—I had promised to help her cheat, and now I was ditching her.
I shot her a sheepish shrug before slipping out of the room.
Kind of a waste, all that studying from last night. But hey, better to be exempted than to second-guess every answer.
With no one to hang out with and too much time before the next class, I headed straight to the cafeteria. Might as well eat early. We had another quiz later in General Psychology, and honestly, I wasn't feeling too confident about what I'd reviewed.
Food and flashcards. That was the plan.
But sometimes, plans don't go the way you expect—especially when fate decides someone's about to cross your path again.
The cafeteria was quiet—too early for the usual lunch rush, so only students without classes were lounging around. Mostly slackers and early birds. Typical.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Jane—last year's Ms. Engineering—getting cornered again by Liana and Carla, our resident high-heeled bullies. It was honestly getting old.
I just shook my head and got in line to buy food. After this, I planned to head straight to the library. I knew better than to drag Angel along—she couldn't keep her voice down if her life depended on it. We'd get kicked out in five minutes, tops.
With my tray in hand, I settled at a quiet table near the window and started eating. My thoughts drifted to that guy from earlier.
They almost never hung around our department, so it was obvious they were there for a reason. Maybe to pick someone up. Or maybe… no. I shook the thought off.
Drevanthos Kaelithar. Yes, that's really his name. Sounds like a fantasy novel hero, right? Too bad his reputation was less prince, more playboy.
People said he had a thing for pretty girls in the Nursing and Tourism departments. Made sense—those courses always looked like they were straight out of a modeling agency. And despite the rumors, half my classmates were still hopelessly crushing on him. Something about his smile and how he greeted everyone like he'd known them forever.
Not me though. I don't buy the charm.
Even when he's smiling, there's something sharp in his eyes. I've passed by him on campus a few times—never once exchanged a word. And I preferred it that way.
Sure, he's easy on the eyes—tall, sculpted, effortlessly attractive. But he's not my type. I go for the quiet ones. Bookworms who'd rather hang out in the library than chase people around like a golden retriever on espresso.
I continued eating in peace, letting the silence settle around me like a warm blanket. Next school year, we'd be switching to our all-white uniforms—one of the perks of moving up in our program. I was already excited. Right now, everyone looked the same across all courses. No identity. No distinction.
Then I heard footsteps. Loud ones. Followed by casual laughter.
I looked up—just briefly.
And, of course. It was them again.
Drev. Tristan. Janiel.
Like the universe just couldn't mind its own business.
Don't they have classes or what? Why do they act like campus is their playground?
I rolled my eyes and picked up my tray. I was done eating anyway. Might as well head to the library and make my study time worth something. Since they were still loitering near the canteen entrance, I slipped to the side to avoid passing too close. Eyes straight ahead. No glances. No pauses.
Once I made it outside, I finally exhaled. The crowd inside was growing, the noise getting harder to ignore.
"Sera!"
I turned to see Angel jogging toward me with a grin that was just a little too proud for my comfort.
I squinted at her, smirking. "That smile better mean you passed."
She nodded like she'd just aced the bar exam. "Fifteen out of thirty, baby!"
I laughed. "Wow. Congrats on scraping through mediocrity."
"Harsh!" she pouted. "Anyway, you going to the library? At this hour? In this heat? Books are not lunch, Sera. No thanks."
She spotted a few of our classmates near the canteen door and immediately ditched me. Classic Angel.
I chuckled, shaking my head as I watched her bounce away like a puppy who'd seen a squirrel. But just as I turned back, something caught my eye.
Or rather—someone.
Across the walkway, beyond Angel's path, Drev was looking this way. Or maybe not? His head was tilted just slightly in my direction, expression unreadable, like someone trying to solve a riddle only he could hear.
My stomach tightened. I quickly turned and walked away.
From that day forward, I started seeing him more often.
Too often.
It was as if the Engineering department had suddenly become allergic to him and he needed a new habitat—ours. He passed by our classroom almost daily now, and it never failed to send my classmates into a frenzy. One smile from him and half the girls were suddenly deaf to the lecture. We were getting scolded more than usual.
And me? I was doing everything in my power not to roll my eyes into another dimension.
Engineering is on the opposite side of campus. There's no reason for him to be here. None. Except maybe…
To flirt.
Of course.
"Who do you think Drev's eyeing here?" Angel asked, her voice teasing, curious.
She lowered her reviewer just enough to peek at the boy in question, who was currently laughing with a group of BS Biology guys not far from our table. We were seated outside our classroom, pretending to study, but her attention clearly had other priorities.
I didn't bother looking again. "Leave him alone and go back to your notes."
Angel groaned. "Ugh. You're so boring."
And maybe I was. But at least I wasn't losing brain cells over a smile and a six-pack.
I let out a soft laugh and turned my focus back to my notes. I'd read the same paragraph at least five times, trying to decode it like some cryptic message from the gods of psychology. Our professor loved trick questions, and I wasn't about to be caught off guard.
"He's totally looking over here!" Angel whispered, nearly vibrating with excitement beside me.
I didn't even glance up. Just shook my head and kept reading. The others at our table were supposed to be reviewing too, but clearly, they'd all abandoned ship the second Drev and his squad showed up. The way they were all suddenly giggling and twisting in their seats, you'd think they were in a live taping of a dating show.
"I swear, his next crush is going to be from psych," Trisha whispered dramatically.
Angel gasped. "Omg, what if it's me?"
The whole table burst into laughter, but I didn't even flinch. I was too deep into memorizing terms and theories to care about Mr. Broad-Shoulders and his fan club.
That is, until Trisha stood up—without warning—and snatched my reviewer off the table.
"Hey!" I laughed. "I'm not done with that!"
She backed away, her eyes glued to my notes as she walked. "Sera, your notes are just... better. They make sense and have examples. You should seriously consider publishing this stuff."
"Then take a picture!" I tried to follow her, but my feet slowed when I realized where she was headed.
Straight into the middle of the walkway—where Drev and the biology boys were hanging out.
My pulse spiked.
"Trisha!" I hissed. "I haven't memorized Lesson Thirteen yet! Just snap a pic!"
She pouted, dramatically so. "Let me copy, please! C'mon, brainiac."
I groaned, but couldn't help laughing a little. She was five steps away from me, facing the opposite direction—her back to Drev's group. Too close for my comfort.
Then it happened.
She raised the reviewer like she was showing off a prize and—bam—it slipped from her hands. The paper caught a gust of air and floated like a feather... landing smack dab at Drev's feet.
My soul left my body.
I watched, frozen, as Drev bent down and picked up the paper. His eyes scanned it—slowly—before he walked toward Trisha and handed it back, cool and casual like it wasn't a big deal at all.
Except it totally was.
Trisha stood there frozen, her hand hovering awkwardly in mid-air as she accepted the paper. Drev tilted his head slightly... and then his eyes locked on mine.
I blinked, heart stuttering in my chest, and immediately turned around—marching back to our table like I hadn't just experienced a minor cardiac episode.
"Trisha just secured her spot in heaven," someone teased as she sat down again, grinning like an idiot.
I snatched the paper from her hands and didn't say a word. My heart was still thudding, wild and confused. I didn't know if it was nerves...
Or pure, undiluted irritation.