Belford College hit her like caffeine on an empty stomach. Loud, chaotic, and just bitter enough to make her question every life choice.
The second Merlina Sanchez walked through the iron gates, the campus buzzed all around her.
Different groups of students spilled into the courtyard, chatting and laughing so loud it drowned out the sound of backpacks rustling and a soccer ball thumping on the pavement far away.
The air hit like a bad first kiss, a weird mix of wet grass, car fumes, and something way too sweet from the campus bakery. Maybe cinnamon rolls or those chocolatey muffins. It should have felt cozy. It didn't. Instead, it made everything feel more suffocating.
Clutching her bag tighter, she wove through the crowd, heels clicking against the over-polished floors of the main building.
Bright lights, hollow echoes, and an uncomfortable amount of beige surrounded her. It felt less like a college and more like a bad dream, the kind where you walk into a party you were never invited to.
Which, technically, she wasn't.
Thanks to her dad, dropping her off late like she was some errand he almost forgot to run. Classic. He never wanted her to come here. Not after everything this school had done to their family.
She hadn't even wanted to come here either. Belford College wasn't just some campus on a list. It was the place where her mother had died. An "accident," they said. Falling from the top of the science wing like gravity had caught her off guard. Some people whispered suicide. Others didn't say anything at all.
But Merlina knew better. People don't just fall…they're pushed, forgotten or silenced. Someone here knew what really happened to her mom. And she was going to find out.
That was the only reason she came. To get answers. Not closure. Not peace. Just the truth and finally some justice.
As she stepped into the classroom, the chatter quieted down like someone hit the mute button.
Heads swiveled to check her out, but not just her looks, not the friendly manner, more like 'who's this?' with a side of judgment. She found a seat near the middle, trying her best not to look like a walking panic attack.
The chair screeched across the floor as she pulled it out, loud and awkward.
Merlina hadn't even set her bag down when the girl strutted in.
Tall, blonde, and radiating icy attitude, she carried herself like the queen of every campus rumor. Her heels clicked sharply with each step, as if the whole room was watching her every move, while her crew followed close behind, like backup dancers waiting for their cue.
Her eyes snapped to Merlina like she was the only outsider in the room. A hush fell over the classroom as heads slowly turned, jaws tightening, and whispers starting to ripple through the rows of desks.
"Hey, new bitch. You're in my seat. Move it." Her voice cut through the silence, sharp and icy, as everyone waited to see how Merlina would respond.
But it took her a second to process. Newbie or New bitch? Was that an insult or some kind of toxic welcome?
Before a reply could form, Megan, her roommate, accidental savior, and apparent chaos expert, leaned back in her chair with a casual smirk and tugged the girl's sleeve.
"Girl, please," Megan said, voice thick with sass. "This isn't high school, and you don't own oxygen. Sit somewhere else."
The class went silent. You could feel the tension stretch across the room like static.
The blonde blinked, fluttered her lashes dramatically, then let out a sigh so theatrical it deserved its own soundtrack. She spun on her heel, hair whipping like it was choreographed, and stalked off with her posse.
Still stunned, Merlina slumped into her chair.
Yay. I've officially been marked by the campus queen bee.
The door creaked open again, revealing a man who looked like he either hadn't slept in three days or had just rolled out of bed.
Professor Harper.
His shirt was wrinkled, his hair in rebellion, and the chipped mug in his hand read, This Might Be Vodka.
He strolled up to the desk, smirking at the class like they were all part of a long-running joke only he understood.
"Good day, class," he drawled. "It's been a boring week, hasn't it?"
A few chuckles. Mostly groans.
"Let's spice it up with a pop test. Worth ten percent. Turn to your Law 101 handbooks."
Collective groaning echoed like a funeral dirge. Her stomach dropped.
She raised her hand like it might shield her. "Um, excuse me, sir? I don't have the handbook. I… literally just resumed college. Today."
Professor Harper didn't flinch. "Then go get yourself one. Test starts now."
That was it. No sympathy. No welcome. Just a command.
Merlina stormed out, jaw clenched, fury bubbling under her skin. The hallway felt colder now, every sound sharper and meaner. Skateboarders zoomed past. Somewhere, someone blasted trap music while students danced like they'd never heard the word midterm.
And then she saw him.
He was sitting on a sun-drenched bench beneath a willow tree, an odd stillness in the chaos. No phone. No earbuds. Just the same Law 101 handbook open in his lap, flipping through it like it was his personal journal.
The sunlight made his hair shimmer.
He looked… still. Like he belonged to a different kind of silence and in that moment she wanted to be in it with him.
Just ask. It'll be fine.
She inhaled and stepped closer, her footfalls loud against the gravel.
"Hey, uh… excuse me?"
He looked up, slowly.
His eyes were green. Not the soft kind, deep, forest green. The kind that made you think of fairytales. And not the nice ones, the ones that could pin you against the wall, leaving you breathless.
Sharp jaw. Tight lips. A single curl dangling rebelliously over his forehead.
"What?" he asked. Smooth voice. Bored tone. Laced with venom.
"I need to borrow your handbook. Just for a few minutes," she said. "Pop test. I just transferred in and—"
He didn't flinch. Just turned a page like she wasn't there. "Can't see I'm busy with it?"
Her mouth opened. "I don't know where the library is. I don't even have a library card yet. Please—"
"And that's my problem because?" he snapped.
Her temper flared. "Whoa, okay diva, sorry to bother you."
She turned to leave.
But then, right before she could even take two steps, he sighed. The kind of sigh that said decency was exhausting, and he held out the book.
Merlina blinked. "Oh… thanks! You're a lifesaver."
He didn't answer. Just stared at her like he was filing her away for later.
She bolted back to class. The test was pure academic cruelty, brain-melting essay questions and trick multiple-choice options. By the end, she was certain she'd flunked at least half.
Phoebe and Megan, her roommates, were waiting just outside the classroom door, the kind that looked like it had survived five generations of angry students and still squeaked like it had tea to spill every time it opened.
"So?" Phoebe asked, grinning as she popped her gum. "How many brain cells did he murder?"
"Honestly?" Merlina let out a dramatic sigh. "I think I blacked out during the last question."
"Professor Harper needs therapy," Phoebe said, adjusting her tote bag like she was ready to file a complaint. "Or maybe he just needs to get laid tonight."
"Or both," Merlina added. "He looked at my paper like it was a fresh pile of dog poop."
Megan snorted, shaking her head as she tossed a pen up and caught it like it was nothing. "Maybe if you stopped crying on your tests, you'd actually write something believable."
Merlina rolled her eyes, smirking. "Sweating, Megan. I was sweating, big difference."
Their laughter bounced down the hallway as they walked side by side, dodging a sketchy vending machine that was flashing red like it needed CPR. It let out a weird buzzing sound, like it was trying to self-destruct.
The walls were a total mess. Flyers were everywhere, some barely hanging on, others ripped like someone gave up mid-poster. There were signs for yoga classes, drama clubs, free pizza, probably fake, and one flyer that just said 'JOIN US' in creepy bold letters. No details. No number. Just straight-up cult vibes.
For the first time all day, Merlina felt almost normal. Her chest felt lighter. Like maybe she could survive this place.
Until she saw him again.
Same bench. Same tree. Still looking like he hated everyone. He was lounging like the main character in a slow-motion scene, one leg stretched out, the other propped up. This time, he was on his phone, scrolling like he had absolutely no regrets about being rude to total strangers.
Just return the book. Don't make it weird.
She gave Phoebe and Megan a quick nod, then grabbed her chance to slip away. Taking a deep breath to stop her nerves from bubbling over like a shaken soda, she walked over.
"Hey."
Without looking up, he reached out and snatched the book from her hand so fast it almost felt like a reflex. "You're done."
She blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, yeah… thanks again."
There was a pause between them, an awkward silence hanging between them like a heavy cloud. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, 'you're welcome' maybe? Anything. But all she got was quiet.
So she swallowed the lump in her throat and tried again, pushing the words out before the silence could swallow her whole. "Although, I could swear you were about to have a heart attack handing it over."
His eyes finally flicked up, eye brow raised, slow, sharp, and just a little annoyed, like she'd just said the dumbest thing. "Sorry?"
"Earlier," she said, biting back a smile, "didn't look like 'sharing' was really your thing."
He gave her a quick look up and down, eyes sharp and cold like he was trying to figure out if she was worth the trouble or just a waste of his time.
Merlina felt her cheeks burn like someone had lit a match inside her face. Her stomach flipped, and suddenly she wished she could disappear right there.
She cursed herself quietly. Why even try talking to someone who acts like he'd been raised by wolves? She started to turn away, stepping faster, heart thumping like a drum in her ears.
Then she heard it.
"Hey." His voice called out, low and rough, but something about it made her stop dead in her tracks.
Her heart jumped, a weird mix of nerves and hope flooding in. Maybe, just maybe he was about to say something normal. Something not full raised eyebrows and attitude.
She spun back around, eyes wide, watching him stare down at the handbook like it was a mess he didn't want to clean up. "You ripped my handbook?"