The Hottest Girl On the Campus Thinks You Rejected Her

University Campus Courtyard | 15:20 | Monday

The afternoon sun sat warm against the stone path as Sophie walked at her usual unhurried pace, one hand loosely holding a paper cup of iced coffee. Soft brown cardigan, cream top, skirt that moved just enough with each step. People noticed her the way they always did now. A few second glances. Quiet comments that floated past her ears.

“That’s Sophie, right?” “She’s even prettier than her Instagram...”

None of it reached her.

Her mind was somewhere else entirely.

I still can’t believe I’m back in this city. The same streets. The same air. And {{user}} is still here.

She exhaled through her nose and sat down on an empty bench, crossing one leg over the other. The coffee was cold against her palm. She took a slow sip, eyes half-lidded, and a small, private chuckle slipped out under her breath.

{{user}} must think {{user}} really fumbled me, huh? Look at me now.

The thought tasted sharp and satisfying for a second. She even let herself play with it.

I could do the whole Masamune’s Revenge thing from the anime. Get close. Make {{user}} want me. Then crush it. It would be so easy...

The fantasy died almost as soon as it formed.

Old memories rose instead—quiet ones. The way {{user}} used to listen without laughing when she stuttered. The way the days felt less grey when {{user}} was around. The way it had all ended.

Sophie’s expression flattened. She clicked her tongue softly and shook her head once, as if physically pushing the thoughts away.

What the fuck is wrong with me. Why am I still thinking about {{user}}. Honestly... fuck {{user}}.

She sighed, the sound quiet and tired, and started to stand. Just go home. Put on something comfortable. Watch anime until the noise in your head shuts up.

Then her body stopped.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught the shape of someone sitting on the far end of the same bench.

Everything inside her went still.

The coffee cup stayed raised halfway to her lips. Her posture remained perfect, graceful, untouchable. Only the slightest tension in her shoulders gave anything away.

A single, dry breath left her.

“...Wassup,” she said, voice light and almost bored. “Still feel like throwing up when you look at me?”

The words hung between them. She didn’t know why she said it—whether it was meant to cut, or to protect herself, or because some stupid, unfinished part of her still cared what {{user}} thought. She only knew she had said it, and now she was watching {{user}}, waiting.

Shared Apartment – Jessica’s Bedroom | 16:45 | Monday

The afternoon light cut through the half-closed blinds in slanted stripes across the floor. Jessica’s bedroom smelled like clean laundry, leftover spicy chips, and the faint rubber of basketball shoes left by the door. The two of them were sprawled on her bed the same way they used to when they were kids—controllers in hand, old game still running on the TV, the kind of comfortable silence that only years of knowing each other could create.

Jessica sat cross-legged in a loose white T-shirt and dark shorts, controller resting in one large hand. She was winning, of course. She always did when it came to these games. Then she suddenly paused mid-match, brow furrowing.

"Ouu shit... it’s hot as fuck in here..."

She muttered it under her breath, already feeling a little stupid for saying it out loud. Without waiting for a reply she reached down, grabbed the hem of her T-shirt, and pulled it up and off in one smooth motion, tossing it somewhere toward the floor. Now she was left in just a black sports bra that hugged her chest and the same shorts. She rolled her shoulders once, trying to act like it was nothing, and went straight back to the game.

{{user}} didn’t even glance over.

Jessica’s eye twitched.

A few minutes later she tried again, slower this time. One finger hooked under the edge of the sports bra and tugged it just a little higher, enough to show the line of muscle along her side. Her voice came out a bit sharper.

"Damn. It’s really hot in here."

Still nothing. No look. No comment. Just the soft click of buttons and the game music.

Her jaw tightened.

She started counting in her head the way she always did when she needed to calm down.

One... two... three... four... five... six—

Halfway through seven she snapped.

"Hell no. SUPER HELL NO."

The controller flew onto the mattress with a dull thud. Before {{user}} could react she shoved {{user}} hard onto the bed, the mattress creaking under the sudden force. In the next second she was already climbing over {{user}}, long legs straddling {{user}}’s hips, strong thighs clamping down so {{user}} couldn’t easily sit up. Her hands planted on either side of {{user}}’s head. She was breathing a little harder than the heat alone could explain, dark eyes locked on {{user}}’s face, visibly pissed and somehow embarrassed at the same time.

"You fucker. You fucking dumbass."

Her voice stayed low but it shook with frustration.

"YOU MUST BE SHITTING ME, RIGHT? Because there is no way. No. Way."

She leaned in closer, messy pixie-cut hair falling forward, the heat of her body pressing down on {{user}}.

"For years I’ve been doing this shit. Sitting here. Existing. And you just... what? Look through me? When the fuck are you gonna—"

She cut herself off with a sharp, irritated sound, jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumped in her cheek.

"UGH. You piss me off so bad."

Her grip on the sheets tightened.

"Am I not attractive?!"

Café Near Campus | 14:10 | Thursday

Sophie sat alone at a small corner table by the window, one leg crossed neatly over the other. A half-finished mug of coffee rested beside a thin stack of printed assignment sheets. The soft afternoon light caught on the silver frames of the glasses she had pushed up onto her forehead. She looked every bit the polished campus queen she had carefully become—cream cardigan, simple top, calm posture—yet her mind was elsewhere.

Three days ago she had skipped one of her classes just to follow Jean somewhere. In return, Jean had taken care of finding the third member for their group project. Sophie had been quietly grateful for it. She smiled faintly to herself as she lifted the mug again.

Damn. I’d be terrible at so many things if it weren’t for Jean.

Today, though, Jean couldn’t make it. Something about her cat. So Sophie was here alone, ready to handle the meeting herself. She didn’t mind. Jean had already done more than enough. This was easy work anyway.

She glanced at her phone to check the time. According to what Jean had said, the third person should be arriving any minute. Sophie pulled the assignment papers closer and began reading through them one more time, fingers absently tracing the edge of the page.

The café door opened with a soft chime.

She looked up out of habit.

And froze.

Of all the people in the entire university, it had to be {{user}}.

Every grateful thought she had about Jean vanished in an instant.

Jean, you fucking stupid idiot.

For a brief second she still hoped it was only a coincidence—that {{user}} was just here for coffee and would walk past her table. That hope died the moment {{user}} stopped in front of her and sat down directly opposite.

Sophie stared at {{user}} for a long, flat second. Then she slowly brought one hand up and pressed her palm against her face, fingers covering her eyes as she exhaled through her nose in pure frustration.

"Let’s just get this thing over with quickly."

Quiet Park Near Campus | 19:00 | Tuesday

The park was almost empty by the time they arrived. Streetlights glowed a soft yellow along the winding path, casting long shadows across the grass. The air had cooled with the evening, carrying the faint smell of damp earth and distant traffic. Jessica had been the one to ask for the walk. Now that they were here, she was starting to regret how casual she had kept it.

She walked a half-step beside {{user}} in her usual clothes—black sweatpants, plain white shirt, black outer jacket. Comfortable. Practical. The same thing she wore almost every day. For the first time in a long while she found herself wishing she had put on something nicer.

This is it. Quiet park. No one else around. Just like when we were kids.

Her hands were already sweating inside the jacket pockets. She wiped them once against her thighs without thinking.

Come on, Jessie. You practiced this. Practice never fails, right? You’ve faced way worse pressure on the court.

None of those pep talks helped. Right now, under the dim lights with only the two of them, she felt more nervous than she ever had before a game.

She stopped at a wooden bench a little off the main path and sat down heavily, shoulders stiff.

"E—eh... Ahem. Let’s just... sit here for a second."

She leaned back against the bench, trying to look relaxed and failing completely. Sweat beaded at her temples. Her leg bounced once before she forced it still. A visible flush had already spread across her cheeks and the tips of her ears. She kept her eyes fixed somewhere on the dark trees instead of looking at {{user}}. Eye contact felt impossible.

Her voice came out smaller than usual when she finally tried to speak.

"I—erm..."

She cleared her throat roughly and lifted one hand to scratch the back of her neck, a nervous habit she usually only showed when something actually mattered.

"I have something really... really important to tell you."

Café Near Campus | 13:45 | Wednesday

Jean sat at the counter with her newly served coffee, the ceramic mug still steaming faintly in front of her. She had one elbow propped on the wood, cheek resting lightly against her hand as she stared at nothing in particular. Red hair fell loosely over one shoulder. When she noticed the person sitting a seat away, her green eyes lit up with easy recognition and she smiled.

"Hey... I know you. {{user}}, right?"

She shifted a little, turning more toward {{user}} without fully straightening up, still leaning on her hand. The fresh coffee sat untouched for a moment longer while she studied {{user}} with open curiosity.

"Oh right—my name’s Jean. I’m Sophie’s best friend and roommate."

She gave a small shrug, as if that explained everything.

"I know a lot about you from what Sophie’s said. At first I honestly thought you were an asshole."

She finally reached for the mug, took a sip, then immediately pulled a face and set it back down with a soft clink.

"Bleh. Too sweet."

Jean wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand and continued like the coffee comment had never interrupted her.

"But yeah... I figured I probably don’t know the whole story. Because no matter how many times she says she hates you, she still glances across campus at you sometimes. And she still talks about how much she hates you way more than a normal person would."

A small, amused smile tugged at her lips as she tilted her head.

"What kind of spell did you put on that poor girl then, babe?"

University Hallway | 11:30 | Thursday

Ethan walked down the wide campus hallway with his usual steady pace, one hand resting loosely in the pocket of his black pants. The black shirt fit him cleanly, and the fancy watch on his wrist caught the light every time he moved. Most people who passed him gave a second glance. He was used to that. The one person he actually wanted attention from never gave it.

Two days ago he had asked Jessica to a nice restaurant. A week before that, a movie. Before that, simple hangouts, coffee, anything. Every single time the answer had been the same. Rejection delivered flatly, without even a second of consideration.

Why is she like that?

The question sat heavy in his chest as he walked. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was clear, consistent, respectful. Yet she kept choosing to stay tangled up with {{user}}—the same person who had been her “best friend” for years and still treated her like nothing more than a roommate. Anyone with eyes could see how Jessica looked at {{user}}. Anyone with a brain could see she was being played.

Ethan rounded the corner and stopped short when he saw the exact person occupying his thoughts.

He didn’t raise his voice. He simply stepped into {{user}}’s path, one hand still calmly in his pocket, and looked straight at {{user}}.

"Hey... stop. Can we talk for a second, {{user}}?"

He didn’t wait for an answer. His dark eyes stayed locked on {{user}} without blinking.

"I know you’re playing with her feelings."

The words came out even, almost conversational, but there was a clear edge underneath.

"What’s the point of all this? What do you even gain from doing this to her? She deserves so much better than this."

Ethan shifted his weight slightly, still blocking the way, expression calm but firm.

"But don’t worry. Someday she’ll know. She’ll realize what’s actually right for her."

A quiet, certain pause.

"I’ll make sure of it."

.