Monday mornings were always the busiest on campus. Students flooded through the courtyard like waves—laughing, complaining, chattering about exams and projects. Jasmine stood among them, clutching her books to her chest as she navigated the crowded pathway toward her next class.
She had worked the late shift at the café the night before, and exhaustion tugged at her eyelids. Still, a small smile toyed with her lips. She couldn't help it. Her mind kept drifting back to the library. To the way Andrew had smiled at her. To the way his eyes softened, as if she wasn't just another stranger passing by.
It was ridiculous… but she still replayed it.
"Earth to Jasmine," Trisha nudged her from the side. "You're smiling like someone just asked you to marry them."
Jasmine's eyes widened. "I'm not!"
"Oh yes, you definitely are." Trisha raised an eyebrow. "I swear, if Andrew Smith walked by right now, you'd evaporate on the spot."
Jasmine groaned, cheeks heating. "I'm tired, okay? This is just… my face acting weird."
"Right. Your face." Trisha snorted. "Sure."
But Jasmine didn't deny it further. Because she knew, deep down, that she was smiling for a reason. Whether she was ready to admit that reason to herself was another matter.
Across campus…
Andrew Smith was late.
Not because he overslept. Not because traffic delayed him. But because he had spent fifteen agonizing minutes debating whether he should walk by the business building—where he knew Jasmine's classes were—before heading to his own department.
Why do I keep thinking about her? he scolded himself as he made his way toward the opposite wing.
He knew why.
Jasmine Alvarez.
The girl whose notebook had exploded across the library floor. The girl whose quiet determination impressed him. The girl who wasn't dazzled by him, who didn't stare at him with adoration like most others did.
He had never met someone who felt so… real.
"Morning, bro!" Jackson called as Andrew approached the engineering building steps.
Travis waved too, grinning. "You look like you sprinted here. Overslept?"
"Uh… no," Andrew replied, running a hand through his hair. "Just… busy morning."
Jackson smirked. "Or you were looking for a certain girl?"
Andrew's heart stopped.
Travis slapped Jackson's arm. "Dude, don't start with the assumptions. It was one conversation."
"One conversation he hasn't stopped thinking about," Jackson teased.
Andrew gave them both a look. "Guys… seriously?"
"Relax," Travis laughed. "We're just messing with you."
Still, Andrew couldn't shake the truth behind Jackson's words.
He had been looking for her. But he wasn't ready to admit that—not to them, not even to himself.
Meanwhile… Claire Dela Peña was very busy too—but not with Andrew.
Claire walked confidently down the far hallway of the science building, phone in hand, a sly smile on her lips. Her boyfriend was nowhere in sight, and she intended to keep it that way.
She stopped near an empty lab room, knocked lightly on the door, and a moment later, it cracked open.
A tall guy with sharp features and a smirk greeted her. His name was Aiden Reyes—a junior star athlete, notorious flirt, and exactly the kind of guy Claire should have stayed away from.
But she didn't.
"Took you long enough," Aiden teased, tugging her inside.
"I couldn't shake Andrew's friends," she said, rolling her eyes.
Aiden shrugged. "Does he still not suspect anything?"
Claire smirked. "Of course not. He's too sweet for his own good."
Aiden leaned closer, lips brushing her neck. "Good. Then we can keep this going."
Claire didn't object.
Because perfect girlfriends didn't cheat.
But Claire Dela Peña was only perfect on the outside.
Back to Jasmine…
She hurried out of her classroom, shoving her notes into her binder. Trisha walked beside her, sipping a milk tea.
"Please tell me you'll take a break later," Trisha said. "You've been pushing yourself too hard."
"I can't," Jasmine said, shaking her head. "My shift starts right after sociology. I need the hours."
Trisha frowned. "Jas… you're going to burn out."
"I'm fine," Jasmine insisted.
She wasn't fine, not really. But she had lived her whole life with the understanding that no one was going to carry her burdens but herself. If she didn't work, she wouldn't be able to pay for rent or food, let alone her tuition.
Jasmine was practical. Jasmine was grounded. Jasmine did not allow herself luxuries like romantic daydreams.
But right now, she was allowing herself one small luxury.
Because standing right outside her classroom, leaning casually against the wall, was Andrew Smith.
Her feet froze. Trisha gasped softly.
"Oh my goodness," Trisha whispered. "He's waiting. For someone."
Jasmine's heartbeat stuttered. "N-No… not for me."
Trisha smirked. "Really? Then why is he looking directly at you?"
Because he was.
Their eyes met—his warm hazel gaze brushing hers like a soft touch—and the world around her blurred.
Andrew pushed off the wall and lifted a hand in a small wave.
Jasmine felt her soul leave her body.
"H-Hi," she managed when he approached.
"Hey," Andrew said, smiling. "Good to see you."
Good to see you.
He said it like he meant it.
Trisha excused herself with a knowing grin, patting Jasmine's shoulder before slipping off into the crowd.
Jasmine swallowed, smoothing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Did you… need something?"
Kind. Simple. Safe.
Andrew chuckled. "Just wanted to say hi. And also… I think you dropped this earlier."
He held out a pen. Not just any pen—her pen, the one she hadn't noticed missing.
"You—You kept this?" she asked quietly.
"You dropped it when you bumped into me in the library," he said. "I thought I'd return it."
Jasmine blinked. His voice was warm, his tone gentle, his smile shy. Something inside her softened.
"I… didn't think you'd remember," she whispered.
Andrew shrugged lightly. "I remember more than people think."
There was a pause—short, quiet, but charged.
Then—
A familiar voice cut sharply through the hallway.
"Andrew!"
The air shifted. Jasmine felt it instantly.
Claire Dela Peña walked toward them, heels clicking, hair perfect, makeup flawless. She looked like she stepped straight out of a magazine.
Jasmine immediately took a step back, heart sinking.
Of course. She had forgotten. Andrew wasn't single.
Claire looped her arm through Andrew's without hesitation. "I've been calling you! Why didn't you answer?"
Andrew frowned. "I didn't hear it."
Claire didn't even acknowledge Jasmine.
Not a glance.
Not a nod.
Not even an accidental look.
Jasmine might as well have been invisible.
"I thought we were having lunch together," Claire continued, her voice sugary with a sharp edge beneath it.
Andrew shifted slightly, discomfort flickering across his expression. "I said I'd try after class."
"But you're here," Claire said sweetly. "So now we can go."
Jasmine pressed her books to her chest, forcing a polite smile.
"I should… get going," she murmured. "My next class is—"
"You don't have to go," Andrew said quickly, turning toward her.
But Claire tightened her grip on his arm.
"Yes, she does," Claire said, smiling brightly at Jasmine. "We were just leaving."
For a moment, Jasmine saw something behind that smile—coldness, irritation… jealousy?
No. Jasmine was imagining it. Claire had no reason to be jealous of her.
But Claire tightened her grip on his arm.
"Yes, she does," Claire said, smiling brightly at Jasmine. "We were just leaving."
For a moment, Jasmine saw something behind that smile—coldness, irritation… jealousy?
No. Jasmine was imagining it. Claire had no reason to be jealous of her.
As Jasmine walked away, she heard Andrew say quietly,
"Claire… that was rude."
"It's just the truth," Claire replied. "Why would you waste time talking to her?"
Jasmine didn't hear the rest.
But the words cut deeper than she wanted to admit.
Later that afternoon…
Andrew sat on a bench outside the admin building, jaw tense. Jackson and Travis sat beside him, listening quietly as he recounted what happened.
"She looked upset," Andrew muttered. "I… I didn't like it."
"Claire's been acting off lately," Jackson said, frowning. "You know it."
Andrew ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I feel it too."
Later that afternoon…
Andrew sat on a bench outside the admin building, jaw tense. Jackson and Travis sat beside him, listening quietly as he recounted what happened.
"She looked upset," Andrew muttered. "I… I didn't like it."
"Claire's been acting off lately," Jackson said, frowning. "You know it."
Andrew ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I feel it too."
"So what are you gonna do?" Travis asked.
Andrew didn't answer immediately.
He didn't want to jump to conclusions.
He didn't want to accuse Claire of something he had no proof of.
But the truth lingered in the back of his mind like an unwelcome shadow.
Claire wasn't who she appeared to be.
And Jasmine… Jasmine was.
Simple. Real. Honest in a way that made him feel something he couldn't name yet.
"She looked really hurt," Andrew whispered to himself.
"You mean Jasmine?" Jackson asked.
Andrew nodded silently.
He didn't want to jump to conclusions.
He didn't want to accuse Claire of something he had no proof of.
But the truth lingered in the back of his mind like an unwelcome shadow.
"She looked really hurt," Andrew whispered to himself.
"You mean Jasmine?" Jackson asked.
Andrew nodded silently.
Travis grinned. "Man… you're starting to care."
Andrew's chest tightened.
Meanwhile at the cafeteria...
Jasmine should have been thinking about her quiz in Contemporary Literature, but instead her thoughts kept circling one thing—or rather, one person.
Andrew Smith.
She hated that his name had slowly, quietly found a permanent shelf inside her mind. He took up space she never allowed anyone else to occupy. She didn't ask for it, didn't even consciously invite it. She tried convincing herself that he was just another campus face. Another rich boy. Another name whispered by girls in bathrooms and cafeterias.
But every time she saw him, her heart betrayed her.
Stupid, she chastised herself as she wiped down the tables at Café Mia, her evening part-time job. You don't fall for people like him. Your worlds don't mix.
"Jas, you okay? You've been wiping that table for like, five minutes."
Jasmine blinked and realized she had been scrubbing the same spot repeatedly. Trisha snorted as she passed by with a tray of coffee cups, raising a brow.
"Don't tell me you're thinking about him again."
Jasmine's lips parted. "What—who? No. No one."
"Uh-huh." Trisha smirked. "Right. No one named Andrew Smith."
"I wasn't—!"
"Yes, you were." Trisha sighed and nudged her shoulder. "Look, it's not illegal to find someone cute. You're still human. And he is cute."
Cute was an understatement. Andrew wasn't just cute. He was warm-smiled, soft-voiced, annoyingly charismatic. He was the type who held the elevator door open even if he was rushing, who apologized first even when it wasn't his fault, who greeted janitors and professors the same way—as if every person deserved kindness.
It was hard not to notice him.
Especially because the entire school seemed to orbit around him.
But then there was Claire Dela Peña. Beautiful. Rich. Confident. Everything Jasmine was not.
They were the school's golden couple—or at least, that's what everyone saw. Jasmine knew the truth was never as perfect as the pictures. She didn't go looking for flaws, but she saw things—because she observed quietly, always from the sidelines.
And she noticed things others overlooked.