Felicity's POV.
He stared at me — annoyance carved perfectly across his perfectly annoying face. His jaw clenched. My pride begged me to glare back, but I swallowed it and broke the silence first.
"I'm so sorry for bumping into you," I said calmly.
His eyes widened — like he couldn't believe I dared speak to him again.
"Oh brilliant, it's you again," he snapped. "First the cab, now this? Do you even have eyes? I thought I'd never see you again and — bam — you appear like a bad omen."
I blinked. Wow. Okay. Had this man woken up and chosen drama?
"I apologized. Besides, we're both at fault," I replied, trying to stay calm.
"Whatever. Just don't come near me again, understand? Stay away from me," he sneered.
"Gladly. Right back at you," I muttered.
He stormed off, leaving me irritated and confused. I hurried to find my lecture hall, but I got lost for a few painful minutes before finally locating the right building. I rushed down the hallway, searching desperately, and when I finally found the door, I walked in — late — and everyone turned to stare at me. Ignoring their stares, I walked straight to the lecturer, pretending confidence even though my heart was doing backflips.
I cleared my throat softly, "Um, excuse me, ma'am… I'm new here. These are my admission papers," I said politely, offering the documents with a shaky smile.
The lecturer took them, scanned the pages for what felt like an eternity, and finally gave a curt nod.
"Oh yes—Felicity Paddington?" she said, already familiar with my name.
"Yes. That's me."
"Welcome to Oxford," she said. "Find a seat quickly — class has already begun. The only seat left is back there, next to that fine young man," she added, nodding toward the back row.
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you," I whispered, relief washing through me.
With everyone still watching, I clutched my bag tighter and followed her gaze — and to my horror, it was the same guy. No. No. NO. Mr. Taxi Snob himself. Kill me now. Not again. He's everywhere. Could this day get any worse?
He looked furious, like he'd rather be anywhere else. Honestly? Same. I had assumed he'd be in a higher level, but nope — lucky me — he was right here. I took the only empty seat beside him and stared straight ahead, determined to ignore his existence. The hall was huge, packed with students and yet I was stuck beside him.
The lecturer introduced herself.
"My name is Mrs. Emma Briston. But simply call me Emma. I'll be teaching Oral Literature."
"I nodded and tried to focus, pretending not to feel the hatred radiating from the boy beside me, but the frustration burning in my chest refused to calm."
After class, I went to the dining hall and called Mom. I told her how beautiful Oxford was and how one guy had completely ruined my day. She laughed and encouraged me, reminding me that not every first day is perfect and not to let anyone steal my joy. We talked for a while, and as my mood slowly improved and a bit of warmth calmed the frustration in my chest, I finally hung up.
Just then, a girl approached me with a bright, bubbly smile.
"Hi! I'm Penelope. We were in class together. And I saw what happened earlier with that guy. You handled yourself so well—like a queen. Can we be friends?" she asked.
Friends?! Absolutely. I smiled for real this time.
"Hi, I'm Felicity. Nice to meet you—and yes, we can be friends. I'd love that," I replied.
"Great! Thank you so much. Okay, I've got to go. Bye!" she said cheerfully.
"Okay, bye," I replied, waving back.
She grinned, waved again, and hurried off—a whirlwind of friendliness and charm. She spoke so fast, had the loveliest British accent, and I instantly liked her. She left, and just like that, my heart felt lighter. Maybe today wasn't cursed after all.
But the universe wasn't done tormenting me. After ordering food and eating, I rushed to return my tray and head back to my seat — and of course, I bumped into the same guy again. The tray tilted and spilled right over his shirt.
"Are you following me?" I accused, narrowing my eyes.
"As if," he scoffed lightly. "This university isn't yours, love."
"Oh no — not you again! I am so, so sorry, okay? Total accident! It was a mistake!" I exclaimed, trying to dust his shirt.
"Get your hands off me. Oh really? So now it's your mistake? I'm sure you don't have eyes! I'm convinced you're blind. You keep crashing into me like your brain forgot how to walk. Please go buy a pair of glasses because you keep bumping into me like your eyes are decorative. Are you crazy?" he snapped loudly.
My jaw dropped. I was done being polite.
"Excuse me? What did you just say?" I retorted, irritation bubbling up fast.
"You heard me. I can see you are sick in the head," he growled, stepping closer.
Students were already turning to watch. By now, people were slowing, whispering, gathering like they were watching a show. I decided to walk away — refusing to give him the satisfaction — but he suddenly grabbed my wrist and yanked me back.
"What are you doing?! Let go!" I hissed.
"Apologize properly," he ordered.
"Are you serious right now?" I laughed bitterly. "Ha! You must be joking."
"It's no joke, love. If you don't apologize, no freedom. Consider your classes over for the day," he said, still gripping my arm.
"That's hilarious. What kind of power trip—? Are you the Dean or something? Let go of my arm!" I snapped, struggling against his hold.
When I tried to pull away, he held on tighter, pulling me closer. My heart skipped a beat—but I was furious. I yanked my arm free and slapped him. The sound echoed. Students gasped. Some laughed quietly, others whispered. He stood there in shock as I walked away. I didn't wait to see his reaction. My heart was pounding wildly, my hand shaking, my stomach twisted with instant regret—yet somehow also satisfied.
Great. Day one and I'd already committed assault. So much for a perfect first day. It had officially turned into a nightmare. On my way back, I couldn't stop thinking about the unnecessary drama. I regretted slapping him. I didn't even know who he was, though he seemed older. I felt terrible.
Back in class, he stomped past me, glaring like I had personally ruined his entire existence. He shot me another sharp glare, bypassed his seat, and rudely shouted at another student to move—dramatic much? I knew he'd never forget me. I stared down at my desk, heart pounding. He hated me. And honestly? I wasn't sure I blamed him. I didn't know who he was, but clearly… he wasn't going to forget me. Maybe I should try to fix this. If he'd even listen. But deep down… something told me this wasn't over.
>>>>>>>>>>>
Christopher's POV.
She stared at me—and damn, she was cute. She apologized, but I bruised her ego. She apologized. Again. And sure, I messed up. But I had already decided she was my bad luck charm of the day. Still, she responded calmly, saying we were both at fault. We went our separate ways. I tried to hold my anger together, I really did. But she kept appearing—this stubborn, chaotic girl who crashed into my morning like a hurricane wearing sunshine.
Then the door opened. Everyone turned. It was her. I thought, She's everywhere! She walked straight to the lecturer and said she was new. The lecturer told her to sit in the back—next to me.
Seriously? I frowned. Later in class, our lecturer, a woman named Emma, introduced herself. "I'll be teaching Oral Literature," she said. And fate played its favorite joke—she sat right beside me. I moved away like she carried a contagious disease. Smooth strategy, Chris.
After class, I joined my friends: Jake, Liam, and Brian.
"Hey, fellas," I greeted, still frowning.
"What's with the permanent frown? You look like someone stole your crown," Brian joked.
"Don't mind him—someone's in love," Jake teased.
"Please! I'm not in love. How many times do I have to say it? I only met her this morning. She's irritating, clumsy, annoying, and just…" I snapped.
"And adorable?" Liam chimed in.
I glared. Hard.
"Wow," Brian cut in. "He totally likes her."
"No, I don't," I insisted.
"You know what—let's make a bet," Jake said.
"I'm not doing that. Count me out," I said.
"I haven't even told you what the bet is yet. You're chickening out already?" Jake laughed.
"Whatever. Let's just go eat," I muttered.
"Right behind you," they chorused.
As we headed toward the dining hall, the bell rang.
"Oh come on—see what you caused," I said.
"Let's go anyway," Brian replied.
We stepped into the hall—and she bumped into me again, spilling her food all over my shirt.
She said it was her fault and apologized, but I snapped again. She talked back, and when she tried to walk away, I grabbed her arm. I told her to apologize. She refused and called me crazy. I tightened my grip and pulled her closer. My heart skipped a beat—and I know she felt it too.
Then she forcefully pulled away and slapped me. Right in front of everyone. The crowd gasped. Some
laughed. I stood there, stunned. My friends wanted to go after her, but I stopped them. Back in class, we were silent for a while—until Liam broke it.
"Chris, you need to teach her a lesson," Liam said.
"Yeah. She doesn't know who you are. Everyone knows you around here," Brian added.
"But damn, she's pretty. Like, angel-level pretty," Liam said.
"Not the time, man," I muttered. "She stained my shirt, for goodness' sake."
Jake leaned in. "Here's the bet: one month. Make her fall for you, then break her heart."
I shouldn't have said yes. I should've walked away. But anger does stupid things. Instead,
"Fine.Deal. Let's do it," I said.
"Yes!" They cheered like idiots.
"I gotta go—talk later," I said.
"Okay, chap," Jake replied.
I stood there, humiliated. Embarrassment and something dangerously close to guilt twisted in my chest. And for the first time in my stupid, privileged life… I didn't know how to react. Anger? Shock? Humiliation? Or fascination? I wasn't sure what scared me more — the sting on my cheek… or the spark in hers.
Back in class, she was there. I stomped past her and told another student to move — rudely, of course — just to avoid getting too close. But I couldn't stop thinking about her. The fire in her eyes. The way she stood her ground. She challenged me. She made me feel something. And that terrified me more than the slap.