Jessica’s POV
As we settled in, the barista approached, her eyes wide with excitent. "Max! Welco! Your usual?"
Max nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "Ask the ladies what they want."
The barista’s smile faltered for a mont before she turned to us, her tone slightly strained. "Miss, what would you like?"
"I want a caral latte, please," I replied.
Annabelle ordered a cappuccino, her eyes never leaving Max’s face.
The barista nodded hastily and retreated to prepare our drinks.
Max leaned back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on . "So, tell . What do you think of the campus so far?"
His sudden change in deanor caught off guard. From intense to casual, Max’s mood swings left wondering what was genuine.
"I love it," I said, trying to sound casual. "But everyone seems... nervous around you."
Max’s smile was enigmatic. "Do they?"
Annabelle rolled her eyes, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Oh, no, they’re just thrilled to be in your presence. That’s why they’re all scattering like frightened rabbits."
Max chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusent. "You’re as subtle as ever, Annabelle."
I shot Annabelle a curious glance. Do they know each other? I an, it was obvious, right? From how she always called him Maxwell to knowing so much about him and Celine’s relationship. But I didn’t think their acquaintance was that deep.
What was the history between these two? Why did Annabelle seem to dislike Max so intensely?
I didn’t sleep on that. If Annabelle wanted to know, she would have told . Perhaps, she could tell in the future.
The barista returned with our drinks, breaking the tension. As he handed my caral latte, I asked, "So, Max, what’s going on? Why does everyone react like this around you?"
Max shrugged, his expression playful. "Maybe because I’m good-looking, the president of our club, or perhaps... I don’t know." His eyes sparkled with amusent, but a hint of evasiveness lurked beneath.
Annabelle snorted, rolling her eyes. "Save it, Max. We’re not buying the humility act."
Max chuckled, unfazed. "Hey, I’m just stating facts. But if you want the real reason..." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Let’s just say my family’s influence can be... intimidating."
I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. That explanation didn’t quite add up. This was a private university, after all, where wealth and power were the norm. Everyone here ca from prestigious families.
"Intimidating?" I repeated, my tone laced with curiosity. "You’re the Dean’s son. That’s not exactly unusual here."
Max’s smile faltered for a mont, and he shifted his gaze to Annabelle, who smirked at him.
"Aha, you told her already. You’re such a blabbermouth." a soft chuckle left his throat.
Annabelle’s smirk grew wider. "Not nearly enough, Maxwell."
Max’s eyes narrowed, a hint of warning in his tone. "Annabelle."
The tension between them was palpable, their exchange laced with underlying currents. Just then, my phone buzzed, interrupting the stillness in the air.
I took it out and saw it was Kristen calling. "Please, excuse ." I stood up and walked away a little distance from them, trying to create so space.
I could see Max and Annabelle talking, their faces strained, as I answered the call. "Hello?"
But when I heard Kristen’s voice, my eyes widened in alarm. He sounded like he was dying, his words barely above a whisper.
"Hey...Jess...Jessie..." Kristen’s voice cracked, sending a chill down my spine.
In the background, I could hear the beeping of machines, the murmur of urgent voices, and the clanging of tal – it sounded like he was in an operating theater.
My breath caught in my throat. I hurried back to my seat, my mind racing.
"What’s going on, Kristen?" I urged, trying to keep my voice steady.
But Kristen’s response was garbled, his words unintelligible.
Suddenly, a loud voice echoed in the background, "We’re losing him! Increase the dosage, now!"
My heart sank. Sothing was terribly wrong.
"Please, hold on! What hospital? Hello! Fuck!!" The call ended. No information, no nothing.
My panicking voice had drawn everyone’s attention but I was in no mood to care. I swiftly ended the call, my mind jumbled into a ss.
Grabbing my backpack. "Sorry, sothing ca up. I have to go," I said hastily, rushing out of the coffee shop.
Max and Annabelle’s concerned voices followed , but I didn’t look back.
As I rushed out of the coffee shop, my mind still reeling from Kristen’s distressing call, I collided with Celine and her entourage. They ford a barrier around , trapping in the middle.
"Fuck! I have no ti for this, Celine," I said, frustration etched on my face. "Get out of my way."
Celine’s expression was indifferent, but the edge of her lips was curled, drawing an arch on her face.
"Oh, look who’s in a hurry. Got a hot date with Max, perhaps?" Soone asked in the crew, his laughter, taunting.
"Trouble in paradise? Did Max finally get tired of you?" another asked, her lips curled with disdain.
The others snickered, forming a circle around . I felt hemd in, my anxiety spiking.
"Move," I repeated, my tone firm. "This isn’t the ti."
Celine raised an eyebrow, while folding her arms on her chest. Her gaze flicked to the coffee shop. "I thought I was clear with my warnings." Her voice was calm, low, and lazy.
Max’s voice cut through the tension. "Celine, back off."
He appeared beside , his eyes locked on Celine’s. Annabelle stood at his side, her expression stern.
Celine’s smile never wavered. "Or what, Max? You’ll defend your new plaything?"
Max remained silent, his gaze fixed on Celine’s crew. He took my hand firmly, and with a confident stride, he led forward.
As if by instinct, Celine’s entourage parted, clearing a path. No one dared stand in Max’s way.
Just as we were about to pass, a sudden movent caught my attention. Sothing hurtled toward , and before I could react, Max swiftly turned, shielding with his back.
The object slamd into his back, and he stiffened. It then fell to the floor, shattering into pieces.
My heart racing, I gasped, "Max!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)