Verse 15

Thankfully, the guy I sat next to was one of those overly diligent types—already underlining titles like the semester depended on it.
CCW101: Introduction to Creative Writing.
Right. That’s the one.

Good looking out, dude. I’ll buy you some breakfast or something.

I didn’t say it aloud, but somehow he looked over his shoulder, gave me this weird half-nod like he heard the thought. Like he was asking when we were eating.

I looked away before that turned into a conversation.

I reached into my bag and realized I hadn’t even taken out my notebook.
Great. Peak freshman energy.

For a second, I just stood there—awkward, frozen, stuck in that liminal space between "I got this" and "maybe I should just disappear." 

Rows of students, the lecturer’s voice already filling the room with some preamble about mediums and narratives. My fingers finally wrapped around a pen and I started scribbling anything I could catch. And then I saw her.

Elena.

She hadn’t noticed me. I hope.

She was sitting near the windows, sunlight trailing across her desk like it had chosen her on purpose. There was another girl beside her, chatting. The seat to her right was empty.

Inviting.

But sunlight and I have a rocky past.
Back home in Nazzari, heat was an actual villain of my story.

I remember once, in Computer class, I had to give a presentation. Part of some assignment, I think. Five minutes in and I was already sweating buckets. The teacher cracked a window for mercy, but it didn’t help. I powered through, practically melting, and somehow still landed an A. But ever since, the sun and I became bitter rivals.

Neon was supposed to be my truce with the sun. A colder town. A quieter place. My mom practically threw a parade when I got accepted—said the cold would “keep me grounded.” She even stocked up on jackets like I was heading into the Arctic.

I haven’t worn one yet, so I couldn’t tell you if they are any good.

Today I was in just a plain shirt and already second-guessing it.

So, instead of risking a sweat session next to Elena, I decided to stick to my current spot with my diligent buddy with the great notes.

The lecture was something about “narratives across mediums” and “digital forms of storytelling.” It actually sounded interesting. For a moment, I imagined maybe this class wouldn’t suck. Maybe it’d help me say the things I haven’t figured out how to say yet.

But even as I jotted down notes, my eyes kept drifting.
To her.

Elena didn’t look up once. Not when someone walked in late. Not even when a desk leg screeched across the floor. Extremely focused.

The lecture wrapped just before 9:00.
The lecturer—Dr. Ashon was surprisingly cool. Balanced, clear, threw in a few decent jokes that even got a chuckle out of me. If he just slowed down a little, I might actually enjoy this class.

As students started packing up, stretching and yawning like survivors of something more intense than a syllabus, I gathered my things and made for the door.

I thought about saying hi to her.

Just… a simple “Hey. How’s it going?”
She was right there.

But I hesitated.
She looked locked into her own world. And I knew that look—I wore it often enough.

Maybe later.

After I handle this ID situation.
Can’t keep sneaking through campus gates like I’m dodging border patrol.

I was a few steps from the hallway when I heard it—

“Davis!”

The voice came loud. Familiar.

Too energetic for a morning.

I turned.
Malik.

He was weaving through desks like he had a mission, sunglasses half-tucked into his collar, and cologne punching the air two steps ahead of him.
God, that scent. How did he manage to smell like success and chaos at the same time?

He clapped me on the back like we’d just won something.
“Bro! Can’t believe you were knocked out like that. I tried waking you—but you were asleep like a baby, man.”

I blinked. “Yeah. What’s up?”

He grinned like he had a secret he couldn’t wait to spill.
“Come walk with me. I’ve got info that might just save your entire campus existence.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Like… my ID situation?”

He winked.
“Something like that. Let’s just say, you’re not the only one who's had to bend the rules to survive Neon.”