(Michelle Lui's POV)
The moment Steven and I stepped out of the Microeconomics classroom, fresh air hit my lungs like a reset button.
Unfortunately…
The block immediately spilled out behind us.
Like ducklings.
Nosy, dramatic ducklings.
Camille materialized at my elbow like a ghost summoned by pure gossip energy.
"Michelle."
I inhaled. "Camille—"
"No." She held up her hand. "We are TALKING."
"Later—"
"No." She grabbed my arm. "NOW."
Steven blinked as Camille physically wedged herself between us like a determined squirrel.
She gave him a polite, painfully stiff bow.
"Sorry, Steven. Girl talk."
He paused.
Nodded once.
Stepped back.
But his eyes flicked to mine before he turned away — a brief check, like a silent You'll be okay?
I nodded slightly.
He walked ahead, calm like he wasn't aware that 40 individuals behind us saw him partner with me like it was pre-booked destiny.
Camille's Accusation
Camille dragged me toward a bench under a jacaranda tree.
