The Wager Begins
The courtyard looked different that morning — louder, brighter, as if the entire campus had shown up to witness our humiliation.
The wager had officially begun.
The rules were simple, ridiculous, and completely public: for two days, the Literature Department would follow the Finance Department's lead. Every task, every command. The price of losing by luck.
Mila arrived beside me, coffee in hand, muttering under her breath. "If they make me polish their shoes, I'm dropping out."
"You'd have to own a pair of heels first," I said, managing a weak smile.
She nudged me. "That's the spirit."
I wasn't sure what spirit she meant. My stomach was a tight knot; the noise, the eyes — all of it pressed too close. Crowds always did that to me. My thoughts blurred into static, my hands finding the edge of my cardigan like a safety rail.
Across the courtyard, Adrian and his team appeared — casual, charming, infuriating.
He walked a few steps ahead, jacket slung over his shoulder, confidence dripping like sunlight. His friends flanked him — Lucas, the one who never stopped joking, and Damon, the quiet strategist who always looked like he was plotting something.
When they spotted us, Lucas grinned wide. "The Literature League has arrived!" he called. "Ready to serve your overlords?"
Mila rolled her eyes. "We prefer the term 'temporary victims.'"
Laughter rippled through both sides. But I didn't laugh. I was too busy pretending Adrian wasn't watching me — though, somehow, I knew he was.
---
A few minutes later, as the professors left and the crowd thinned, Adrian's friends circled him near the fountain. I stood far enough not to be seen, close enough to hear fragments.
"Dude," Lucas said, smirking. "If you're really the heartthrob this school thinks you are, prove it."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Prove what, exactly?"
"Make her fall for you."
My stomach dropped. I froze where I stood.
Damon chuckled. "Come on, Lucas. That's cliché, even for him."
"Cliché works," Lucas said. "Two days of her around us? You could pull it off before lunch."
Adrian didn't laugh. He just looked thoughtful — the kind of stillness that always made me nervous. Then he smirked. "Fine. I'll take your dare."
"You're serious?" Damon asked.
"Why not?" he said easily. "A little fun. Besides, she looks like she could use some excitement."
The laughter that followed was low and knowing. I turned before they could see me, heat crawling up my neck. My heart thudded so loud it drowned out their voices.
I shouldn't care. It was a joke — stupid, arrogant, meaningless.
But it still stung.
---
By noon, both teams were gathered in the central garden for the first "activity" of the wager — something about teamwork and creative tasks. The details blurred around the noise in my head.
Adrian acted like nothing had happened. He stood near our group, easy smile, eyes bright with mischief.
"Good morning, Rossi," he said, stopping beside me. "You look like you're about to commit a crime."
"Only if you keep talking," I said.
He laughed softly. "See? We're getting along already."
I looked straight at him. "You really think this is a game?"
His eyes flickered — amusement, maybe guilt, hard to tell. "Everything is a game, if you play it right."
"Then I'm not playing."
"Then you'll lose."
The words hung between us, heavier than they should've been.
---
The first task began — a paired challenge meant to "foster collaboration." By some cruel twist, Adrian and I were matched together.
We had to build a marketing concept combining both finance and literature — a poster, a slogan, something creative.
He handed me a marker. "You do the words, I'll do the strategy."
I took it without looking at him. "Try not to ruin the aesthetic."
"Try not to overthink it."
We worked in silence for a while. The world shrank to paper and ink and the weight of his gaze on me. Every time our hands brushed reaching for a page, I felt it — a jolt I refused to name.
At one point, he leaned close enough that his breath brushed my ear. "You know, you surprise me," he murmured.
"Good," I said quietly. "Then maybe you'll underestimate me next time."
He smiled, and I hated how beautiful it looked on him.
---
By sunset, the first day ended with laughter, photos, and exhausted students sprawled across the grass. My team was joking again, even Mila had softened. But I stayed quiet, my mind a storm of questions I couldn't untangle.
Adrian's dare shouldn't matter. He didn't matter.
And yet… every word, every look felt heavier now — as if there was something beneath the game neither of us wanted to name.
As we left the garden, I heard Lucas teasing again, "How's your mission going, lover boy?"
Adrian only smirked. "She's not that easy."
"Bet you'll crack her by tomorrow."
He glanced my way. "We'll see."
I didn't turn, didn't speak. But for the first time, I wondered if maybe I wasn't the only one being tested.
---
---
Chapter Seven — The Dare
The second day of the wager dawned colder than the last.
The sky was overcast, clouds pressing low over the university courtyard. A fine mist lingered on the pavement, blurring reflections of students gathering for the final challenge. It should have been just another day — but my stomach said otherwise.
Our teams stood in the same place as yesterday, facing each other like rivals in an ancient ritual. The chatter was loud, bright, and mocking. I could already feel eyes on me before anything had even begun.
"Alright!" Lucas — Adrian's ever-excited friend — clapped his hands together, smirking. "Since it's the last day of our glorious rule, we decided to end this with something fun."
"Fun?" Mila muttered beside me. "Your version of fun usually involves emotional trauma."
Lucas grinned wider. "Oh, this one's harmless. Romantic, even."
A low hum of anticipation spread through the crowd.
I had a bad feeling.
Damon, calm as ever, stepped forward with a folded note. "We all agreed the Finance team should pick one Literature student for a special task." He looked around, letting the suspense build. "And the lucky participant is…"
He unfolded the paper. "Arisha Rossi."
My heart stopped.
"What?" I blinked, half-laughing in disbelief.
Lucas practically beamed. "Congratulations! You've been selected for today's challenge — a date."
The courtyard erupted in whispers and laughter.
Mila's mouth dropped open. "Wait — with who?"
Adrian stepped forward then, hands in his pockets, wearing that impossible half-smile. "With me."
For a second, everything froze — even the wind.
Then the noise hit. Gasps, giggles, murmurs — "No way," "Lucky girl," "Why her?"
I felt heat rush up my neck. My mouth opened, then closed. "You're joking."
"Not this time," Adrian said calmly. "It's a wager. You agreed to follow our terms."
"That's not a task," I snapped. "That's—"
"Fun," Lucas interrupted. "For us."
The Literature team exploded in protest. Mila folded her arms. "You can't just make her—"
Lucas raised his eyebrows. "If she refuses, then your team forfeits."
Damon smirked, pulling out a folded paper. "Which means you all complete the backup punishment instead."
Mila frowned. "What backup?"
"Cleaning the entire campus bathroom," Damon said, his tone too casual, "with your hands."
A collective ewww rippled through my team.
"No way!" one of the girls said.
"Absolutely not," another muttered.
I looked at Mila, who suddenly looked torn between horror and pity. "Arisha…" she whispered.
I glared at the Finance team — at him. Adrian stood there, unreadable.
"This is stupid," I said.
Lucas grinned. "You'd rather scrub toilets?"
My team turned to me almost in unison. "Arisha, please," Mila said, sighing. "Just one date. Save our dignity."
"You guys are unbelievable," I muttered.
"Come on, Rossi," Adrian said finally, stepping closer. "It's just a day. A date for a wager. Nothing serious."
I met his gaze, refusing to look away. "You think I'm interested in playing girlfriend for your entertainment?"
He tilted his head slightly, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. "Relax. I'm not asking for your heart. Just your time."
His words shouldn't have affected me. But there was something in the way he said them — light, teasing, but not entirely cruel.
My pulse thrummed against my will.
Mila nudged me again. "Please. For all of us."
I exhaled slowly, staring down at the wet cobblestones. Every eye was on me, waiting.
Finally, I looked up. "Fine."
Lucas cheered. Damon smirked. Mila looked relieved.
Adrian only smiled — slow, deliberate. "Good girl."
The words were soft, but they struck like thunder.
---
Later, as everyone dispersed, I stayed behind near the fountain, pretending to adjust my bag. Adrian lingered too, watching the others leave.
When it was just us, I said flatly, "You're enjoying this."
He shrugged. "A little."
"This is humiliation, not a wager."
"Depends how you play it."
I crossed my arms. "You're unbelievable."
He smiled faintly. "That's what they keep telling me."
A pause stretched between us. Then his tone softened. "I'll pick you up at five. Don't overthink it."
I narrowed my eyes. "I overthink everything."
"I know."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving me in the echo of his confidence — the sound of footsteps that didn't know hesitation.
---
All day, I couldn't focus. Classes blurred, words lost meaning. Every time I thought about the dare, I felt a mix of dread and something far worse — curiosity.
Why me?
There were prettier girls. Louder, bolder, the ones who followed him around like gravity. The university adored Adrian Madden — the prime minister's son, the golden boy with a smirk that could unmake reason.
And I was… me. The quiet scholarship student who blended into corners.
Maybe that was why it stung. Maybe that's why I wanted to prove him wrong.
If this was his game, he'd learn I didn't play by anyone's rules but my own.
...