02 | Knickers In Twists

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Kiara

I gaped at him as he made his way down the stairs.

Great! It's the late guy. How lucky! It's not even someone punctual. My life is just fantastic!

I stepped off the stage and shuffled awkwardly to the right side of the hall, followed closely by him. I was pondering on how to start a conversation with him. After all, we needed to get to know each other, right? Except. . . what do boys even talk about?

We stood in awkward silence for a moment before I gathered my courage and turned to face him. "Hi, I am Kiara."

He glanced down at me out of the corner of his eyes. "Hayden." His voice was deep and breathy, it almost sounded somewhat comforting.

I frowned.

Okay, so now what? Should I ask his age or something? Ugh. It's alright, just try to be comfortable. Remember what Irene said; just speak and smile, speak and smile, speak and smile--

"What medium are you going to try?" he asked, yanking the hood of his red hoodie over his head and adjusting the width.

"I haven't thought about it yet." I looked over at him. "What about you, have you decided on one?"

"Video format," he answered confidently, brushing away the hair that had fallen over his dark eyes.

"That's cool," I commented.

That's when it hit me. The assignment was about the partner. Which meant he was going to have to video me!

Well, that'll be embarrassing.

"Don't feel too overwhelmed." He blew air on his nails, dramatically. "I've done a lot of videography so I can just cut the useless, embarrassing parts."

My eyebrows furrowed at that. "What do you mean by that?"

"No offense, but you don't really seem like the type to, you know, do well in front of cameras," he deadpanned. "How should I put it . . ." --he paused for a moment, inhaling deeply-- ". . . you don't seem like a confident person."

I was shocked. It took me a while to comprehend what he had said. And when I understood it--oh, boy--it was like a kick in the teeth. The comment was so accurate that it hurt a lot hearing it come from a stranger.

Before I could muster up a good comeback--even though I knew I probably wouldn't have the guts to say it to his face--Dr. Alastair dismissed the class after pairing up the last couple of students.

What the hell?! Who is he to tell me what I look like? Why is he so damn rude?

As we stumbled out of the lecture room, a thought nagged at the back of my mind. I tried to ignore it well enough, but ended up swallowing what little pride I had and tapping on Hayden's shoulder.

This time, I would give him a piece of my mind, because the more I thought about his hurtful remark, the angrier I got by the second. I mean, even I had a limit of being the 'polite' girl.

"You do know we'll have to meet up often to do this assignment, right? So, don't you think it'll be easier if you give me your number?" I inquired, my face burning. I was trying to look as rude as he did, but it was obvious that I was failing miserably.

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