________________

 

Miya panted as she ran towards the stone building, cursing her faulty alarm clock, her cold shower, her blow dryer that blew a fuse and her mismatched stockings. 

 

What a great first day, she thought sarcastically as she slipped through the crowd of students and ran up the three flights of stairs. I probably look like such a mess, she thought, grimacing at how she probably looked. Red and sweaty, that’s sure to get you a boyfriend.  

 

“One minute until class starts,” she muttered to herself as she darted through the halls, her eyes finally locking onto their target, room 245. “Yes!” She let out a sigh of relief as she took an empty seat in the back, the professor still fidgeting with the projector. 

 

Made it, she thought as she set her bag down with a bright smile. Her small hands pulled out her notebook and pencil case from her red book bag, taking the time to arrange everything on the small desk attached to her chair. First day of Architectural History class, she thought, her heart drumming in excitement. One step closer to becoming an architect. 

 

Her brown eyes scanned the classroom for familiar faces, moving over the rows of students before finally resting on the handsome gentleman sitting next to her. She gulped, struggling to avert her gaze but for some reason she was drawn to him. His back was leaning against the seat, his face expressionless as he looked straight at the board. He wore a navy printed sweatshirt and black jeans, his feet encased in leather boots. His blonde hair was styled back, his large, elegant hands resting on the desk. His cheeks were angled and sharp, the air about him aristocratic. He's like a prince, she mused. An expensive gold watch adorned his wrist, Rolex, she noted. 

 

Whoa, he looks like he stepped out of a CF…

 

“Do I have something on my face?”

 

Miya jumped at his low, baritone voice, her knees hitting the bottom of her desk. “Wh-huh? Oww,” she cursed low, rubbing her knees, her cheeks flaming red. “Oh gosh, that hurt,” she whispered to herself as she meekly glanced over to him.  

 

“Hn.” The blonde took the chance to look at her, taking in her wet hair, her orange and blue knit floral sweater, her short black skirt that rode up to reveal milky smooth legs and her mismatched black and grey stockings. He looked back to the front, his gaze cold. “You’re not my style.” 

 

Miya’s jaw nearly fell to the floor at his words, those words echoing in her ears. You’re not my style. 

 

“Ex-excuse me?” She shook her finger at him, words spilling out of embarrassment and anger. “Well you’re not my style either! You’re way too handsome and… and… arrogant and gosh, how assumptive were you to think that I liked you anyways!” She hissed under her breath, the professor at the front beginning the lecture. “Maybe I wasn’t looking at you! Maybe I was looking at the person sitting next to you.” 

 

He raised his perfect eyebrows and looked to the other girl to his right. She was rather large and wore an unflattering combo of a neon yellow sweater and peach jeans. The poor girl must have been sick too, as her nose red and dripping snot. “So you like females?” He asked, his gaze returning to hers, his tone mocking.

 

Miya blushed, “Enh?” Wow, you really didn’t think that through. She crossed her arms, “Forget it.” She muttered, sending him a glare before turning her attention to the projector screen. “Assumptive jerk.” 

 

He smirked, hearing her words, “Foolish female.” 

 

For the rest of the lecture Miya could not help but steal glances at him. 

 

What a jerk, she thought absently, her pencil shading in her notebook as she tuned out of the introductory lecture. What gives him the right to think he’s so godly that any girl looking at him would want him. So what if he’s pretty good looking? So what if he dresses well? He’s still rude.

 

Her brown eyes narrowed as she muttered to herself, “What a jerk.” 

 

“You’re rather fond of that word, aren’t you?” He asked as the lecture ended. He had turned to his side to pack his notebook into his book bag.

 

Her cheeks reddened once again, “Uh….” Oh gosh, oh no, did he hear her the entire lecture talking to herself?

 

He smirked that sickingly drop-dead gorgeous smirk and she felt herself momentarily forget how much he annoyed her. That was until he spoke. 

 

“I prefer it when you don’t talk,” he drawled, lifting his leather bag from the floor. And with that he left, leaving her behind with cheeks so red that she probably resembled a cherry tomato. 

 

Miya glared at his retreating form, resisting the urge to stick her middle finger up at him. Be a lady, she told herself, her eyes closed as she tried to go to a place of zen. Ok Miya, be the bigger person here. Happy thoughts… flowers, chocolate, puppies, puppies are yellow, blonde is like yellow… blonde hair… that jerk… damn it, can’t think happy thoughts…

 

She scowled as she left the classroom, kicking the back leg of the chair he had sat in. 

 

Take that, you jerk. 

 

________________

 

Pushing the encounter with Mr. Handsome Jerk in the back of her mind, Miya took the rest of the morning to explore the campus. She had a two hour break between classes on Monday and she had spent most of it looking at the buildings on campus and sketching what inspired her here and there. 

 

Wah, it’s so pretty, she thought as she looked up at the law library. Her hand shielded her gaze from the sun, elegant and modern sophistication. 

 

She glanced down at her watch, checking the time. Perfect! She thought as she walked down the small hill, she had time to get something to drink before her final class. 

 

Miya hummed to herself as she found the coffee shop in the student union building. She stood in line, scanning the board for the perfect drink that would quench her thirst and keep her awake during her next class. 

 

“Hello,” she smiled to the cashier, “I’ll have a small latte.” She told him as she handed over her card.

 

“Neh,” the cashier swiped her card and gestured to the end of the counter, “It’ll be ready soon.”

 

“Neh,” she bowed her head, “Thank you.” She her lips in anticipation as she moved to the left, her gaze moving over the line of people in front of her. A handsome couple with matching book bags, a girl with gorgeous hair, wow… how is it so perfectly curled when it’s so windy outside? A short boy with adorable dimples and wh-wait… is that? 

 

She cursed internally as she spotted him in the front. Him with his stupid blonde hair and stupidly cool sweater that probably costed more than her entire outfit. 

 

The jerk. 

 

She froze as his head turned and their gaze met, oh god, can he read minds or something? She wondered as she meekly smiled back and quickly turned her head, pulling out her phone to distract herself. Is he like…the devil?

 

“Americano!” She couldn't help but peak back up as the barista called out the drink, handing the jerk his coffee. 

 

He doesn’t even say thank you, she mused, what an arrogant guy. She pursed her lips, her gaze following his tall, lean form. And I’m not watching him leave because I find him attractive or anything. She felt her cheeks redden, I’m just internally scolding him for being such a rude human being… And I’m definitely not admiring how cool he looks when he drinks his coffee. Or how he can pull off that hip hop, hipster, gentleman style. Nope, not at all. I’m not being at all creepy. 

 

A sigh escaped her cherry-red lips, who was she kidding. She was being kind of creepy. Honestly, she pinched herself, get it together Miya. 

 

She shuffled forward with the line and eventually got her drink. After, she left the coffee shop and pulled out her timetable. “11:40,” she murmured, glancing again at her watch. She had twenty minutes to find her next class. 

 

Totally do-able. 

 

“According to this I need to go up this street and then turn left.” She looked around, quickly finding her way. “Alrighty then.” She put in her headphones as she began her hike up the street, her eyes looking around the campus. 

 

Hold on, she froze, a frown marring her face as she spotted that familiar blonde hair ahead of her. 

 

Geez, is that? Is that him? He’s everywhere, isn’t he? Aren’t there 15 000 students on campus? Why do I keep seeing the same guy? Maybe he’s a twin, or worse, a triplet! Or maybe he's a clone! Maybe he's a part of some weird science project and Korean's have finally produced the technology to make clones! 

 

Ok Miya ... she chided herself, you're getting weird again. 

 

She slowed her pace as she continued to walk behind him, tempted to take a different path. Why does it feel like I’m following him? She wondered as he also took the left she needed to take to class. Oh god, now it’s kind of like I’m stalking him. 

 

She crossed her arms as she then entered the same building as him and then, to her utter misfortune, the same classroom. She groaned as he took a seat at the back, him sitting down the moment she entered. She couldn’t be certain but she felt his dark eyes following her as she decidedly took a seat in the front, far away from his handsome jerkiness. 

 

Concentrate on the class Miya, she told herself as she stared at the powerpoint. Don’t you dare think of that blonde hair. Don’t you dare wonder how he got it so perfectly blonde. Don’t you dare wonder why his voice makes you melt. 

 

Ah, . You’re hopeless. 

 

She groaned as she rubbed her eyes, concentrate. Learn about… she squinted, focusing her attention on the equations, math. Looks like math. 

 

An hour in Miya shivered, rubbing her arms with her hands. She felt cold, she mused as she turned her head, glancing at the back of the room where the AC was. It had been full blast. Of course, she pouted, it’s turned all the way up. 

 

She sighed, startled as she caught his gaze on her. That jerk, she stuck out her tongue at him, because of him she had no idea what was going on in class. 

 

He smirked that disgustingly handsome smirk back and turned his gaze back to the lecture. 

 

She turned her head and huffed, freezing as she suddenly realized what she had done. Her shoulders fell forward, oh god, really mature of you Miya, really. She groaned as she looked at her empty page, what is he doing to you? Just concentrate on the lecture... 

 

When class ended Miya packed her things, watching through the corner of her eyes as he moved lethargically, slowly stuffing his notebook in his bag. She giggled as he yawned, he has an ugly yawning face, she thought with a silly grin on her face. Perfect. Just imagine that his face is always like that when you start feeling these… weird feelings. 

 

With that settled, she left the classroom and began her trek home for lunch. Day one, she thought as she swiped her pass and boarded the city bus. 

 

Hopefully she wouldn’t have to see him in any of her other classes.

 

________________

 

But boy was luck not on her side… Honestly, it was like she was stalking him. Not only was he in four out of five of her classes, but she saw him everywhere.

 

Literally.

 

Everywhere.

 

She saw him in the campus bookstore, the library, the school gym that one time at eleven at night on Wednesday…

 

… and oh, did she enjoy wait scratch that, she didn’t enjoy seeing him at the gym… right? Because he was a jerk. A jerk who could do like thirty chin-ups and not break a sweat. Not that she counted or anything…

 

________________

 

Miya yawned as she changed into her gym gear, quickly bending down to tie her white sneakers. Why am I at the gym again? She asked herself as she tied her hair up and waked out of the locker room. Oh yeah, because my roommate enjoys listening to R&B at full blast while she has alone time (aka y time), with her boyfriend.  

 

Miya grimaced at the mental image as she took a left down the hall to the university gym. Why did I just picture that? She scrunched her nose as the heavy smell of sweat and feet suddenly bombarded her senses. I guess this is what comes with a free membership, she mused as she swiped her student ID at the entrance. She looked around, the gym seemingly divided in half. To the left were the weights and the right was the cardio machines. 

 

Oh man, she furrowed her brows together, it had been awhile since she stepped foot into a gym. “What do I do?” She mumbled to herself, half of the machines looking more like torture devices than exercise machines. At that moment, however selfish it was, she couldn’t help but wish her roommate would have remained single for the rest of her life. 

 

“I guess I’ll go for a run?” She grinned as she spotted the one contraption she could use. Yes! I know what that is. She hopped onto the treadmill and tucked her headphones into her ear. Her fingers pressed the buttons and started the machine. The pace was not too fast, just a light jog.

 

“You can do it,” she told herself as her gaze moved to the large mirror in front of her. The mirror reflected the other gym users behind her and she took it as a chance to look people watch. 

 

The poor guy trying to lift all those weights to impress that girl, the incredibly sweaty man at the leg press, the handsome blonde guy doing chin ups… wait… hold on… She cursed as she caught a glimpse at his face. 

 

“Oh man,” she muttered to herself, it’s him. Again. Didn’t she just see him in class? And then at the cafeteria? It was like she was always following him. 

 

Just don’t look that way, she told herself, her gaze returning to the machine. She kicked up the speed, just concentrate on running. Might as well burn some calories… 

 

Throughout her run, Miya tried not to look, really, she tried, but her gaze was drawn to him as he easily pulled himself up past the iron bar. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty… geez, why does he make it look so easy? 

 

She bit her lip, her cheeks blushing red. Because she was exercising, she rationalized. Not because she found it incredibly y as his arms flexed each time and how his face maintained that handsome look of intense determination. Like how a man looks at his lover. And no, she wasn’t imaging those muscular arms around her… Definitely not imagining him holding her close, that husky voice whispering sweet nothings…

 

“Yo.” 

 

Miya squeaked as her left headphone was pulled out of her ear and stumbled back, tripping over her shoes as she fell on the treadmill, her bum moving off with the help of the machine as she landed on her back.  

 

“Oh my gosh,” a tall brunette hovered over her, her eyes wide. “Are you ok? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” She was horrified as she helped her friend stand.

 

“Ahh,” Miya rubbed her backside, looking around her and blushed at the curious looks from the rest of the gym. She glanced to the mirror and cursed as their gaze met, that smirk on his face as he pulled himself up once again. 

 

Omo, did he see me wipe out? 

 

“Bomi,” she slapped her friend’s arm, feeling utterly embarrassed. “What the hell?” 

 

“I’m really sorry,” Bomi apologized, wiping the dirt off of her shorts, “I thought you saw me.” 

 

“I…gah,” she sighed, “This is why I don’t go to the gym.” She muttered to herself, praying to the gods that he hadn’t actually noticed. Because he probably already thinks I stalk him. No need to add clumsy to that list. 

 

“Sorry again, I love you, you know.” Bomi smiled, pulling her secret weapon, aegyo, out of her pocket as she brought her fist to her cheek, “Boing, boing.” 

 

“Ah, I can’t take it! Stop,” she playfully slapped the girl’s hand away with a laugh. “You’re forgiven.” 

 

“Yay!” Bomi clapped her hands together, “So what are you doing here? You don’t go to the gym.”

 

“Hana,” she explained, wrapping her headphone cord around her phone, “Her boyfriend’s staying the night.”

 

“Ohhh,” Bomi grimaced, making a face. “Gross. Ohh, I know! Let’s go get ice-cream instead of working out.” 

 

Miya grinned, her fall completely forgotten at that magical word. “Call! Your treat.” She swung her arm around her friend’s shoulder, blissfully unaware of a certain blonde gentleman watching her leave. 

 

________________

 

Unfortunately after the gym incident, Miya saw him the next day at class where she once again made a fool of herself, somehow tripping over nothing and bumping into his freakishly tall form. And incredibly muscular, she thought, her cheeks warming at the memory of his hard chest. Not that she was attracted to him or anything, because he was still a massive jerk. 

 

“Watch where you’re going,” he had muttered, pushing her by her shoulders so she stood back up on her own two feet.

 

“Ah,” she winced, ducking her head. “I’m so sorry,” she bowed low repeatedly.

 

“Tsk,” he moved past her, “Clumsy girls aren’t my style.” 

 

And for the first time in her life, after those words had left his perfectly shaped mouth, her eye had twitched. I want to punch him so badly, she thought, glaring at his tall form. 

 

Unfortunately for her, after that incident she saw him at the corner store, the cafe across from campus and then today, when the school week was over and she thought she was rid of him for the weekend, she saw him at the freaking grocery store.

 

He sure was everywhere…

 

“Oh man,” Miya groaned as she tugged her grey beanie past her ears, hoping she could somehow disguise herself. He was standing by the vegetables, choosing between two bundles of lettuce. 

 

The one on the left, she mused, it looks fresher… not that she cared or anything. 

 

She chided herself as she whipped around and walked quickly past the aisles of canned goods. Stop being so weird Miya. Concentrate on your own groceries. Now…. what do you want for a snack? Chips? Ice-cream? Cookies? Cookies… definitely cookies. 

 

She grinned as she found the shelf, tapping her chin as she selected the chocolate chip cookies. I wonder if he’s gone by now, she thought as she inched towards the end of the aisles, checking her left and right before walking back to the produce. 

 

He’s gone, she felt her shoulders relax, thank god. 

 

“Hn, it’s you again.”

 

Oh god, that deep, husky voice that was full with arrogance. 

 

She tensed as she pivoted on her heels, “Er… hi….” 

 

He looked down at her, his dark brown eyes unreadable. “Move,” he waved his hand to the side, “You’re taking up the entire aisle with your cart.” 

 

“Huh?” She looked at her cart and then back at him. Why was her mind not working? Why did it turn to mush the moment he spoke?

 

“Your cart.” His brow raised, “Move it.” 

 

“O-oh, sorry,” she bowed her head and allowed him to walk past her. 

 

“You shouldn’t buy sweets,” he told her with a smirk as he glanced at her cart. “You’re chubby enough as it is.” 

 

Miya’s jaw dropped once again, utterly speechless. Th-that jerk! Did he really just call her chubby? “Are you,” she stuttered, “Wh-what? I…” 

 

“Maybe one day we'll actually have a conversation." He smirked, "See you around.” He waved his fingers and grinned as he left her once again after saying the last word. 

 

“Augh,” she glared at him, clenching her fists around the handles of the cart. She stomped the floor, tempted to throw a tomatoe at his perfect blonde head. 

 

Who knew she could hate someone as much as she hated him. One of these days, she’d say the last word.

 

...jerk.