It all began in the summers of 2019... (Cue my derisive snort.) Yeah, right. I wish. This was Nigeria. Things didn't work that way. It all started when I decided to speak to my crush. Well, other than the fact that I loved him from afar, big deal, right? I just had to walk up to my crush and say hi, right? Wrong. So very wrong. In fact I had never been more wrong in my life. Jesse Coleman. That's his name, my crush I mean. We were in the same school. But I couldn't even call him a boy anymore. He was a man through and through.

That is, if his height, and muscles had anything to say about it. He was the raw definition of male domination. Standing at 6 foot 7, and with the body of a pro boxer (How did I know? Ask his shirts. No really, you should. They really looked like were practically begging to remain together as they clung to his skin tightly. Like second skin. It hid absolutely nothing. His muscles bulged , veins running along his arms. Not like I stared though. I mean, why would I stare? Not like I liked him or anything...), he was definitely an attention grabber. Even if he didn't notice or care.

He was mixed race. His mother being Nigerian and his father being British. His skin colour was golden honey coloured. His very light brown hair was extremely curly and always seemed to be a mess on his forehead. He always let it grow out. Let it grow just long enough to be put in a bit of a ponytail, but not long enough to bother him much. The front always falling into his eyes.

He hardly ever put it in ponytail though. Unless it was really bothering him. (PS: I'm not a creep. My eyes just always found him wherever he was and I couldn't just look away.)

You're probably wondering why, 5 foot 6,oh so smallish, black haired, brown eyed me would have a crush on someone like that. Ok, first off, he was hot. That was enough reason in itself.

And second, he stayed away from people, and that attracted my attention more than anything. You didn't bother him, and he didn't bother you. He hardly spoke. He preferred keeping to himself. He probably disliked people as much I did. Yes, yes, I'm a loner too, but that's besides the point.

I like him because he was a good person. He helped people on occasion, which homework. Even tutored at a point, but only briefly. I never got tutored by him, but I heard those he tutored got good grades. So, yes, I believed he was a good man from the bottom of his heart. The problem was, he didn't know me (or at least, it seemed like he didn't and I didn't know that he did till I met him.)

He was in one of the campus cafeterias. I had been watching from afar, but then I changed my mind. I was going to talk to him. I walked slowly up to him. His back was to me and he seemed to be doing something on his phone while listening to music on the highest volume with his black earphones (I was roughly 15 steps away from him and I could hear the boom of the heavy metal song blasting through his earbuds. Yikes, burst your eardrums while you're at it.)

I was almost right behind him when I heard his voice loud and clear. "Don't come here." His voice had always been deep and smooth, causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin. It was an order that booked no room for argument. I looked around me wondering who he was talking to.

He didn't look like he knew I was coming. I mean, no one would if they had music pounding in their ears like that and had their eyes fixed on their phone. I ignored the command, thinking he was talking to someone maybe on his phone.

Did you know that it's a bad habit to assume stuff? I learnt that shortly after.

"I said, don't come here." He repeated as I took another step towards him. I ignored it again. Not wanting to believe he was talking to me. He really couldn't have been.

The moment I took the last step, he dropped his phone on the table, yanking his earphones out roughly, before turning to me. His cerulean eyes colliding with mine. They were cold and devoid of emotion. "Are you deaf? Or do you just decide to ignore me when I talk?" He asked slowly, as though I was a child and I wouldn't understand. His left brow was raised as he spoke.

My tongue felt heavy. He was glaring daggers at me. The intensity of his stare caused shivers to run down my spine. Oh but not those shivers that showed you were scared. Definitely not. Even though, that was what it should have been.

It was those delicious shivers that would more or less have revealed my attraction to him if you knew that I liked him.

"I didn't know that you were talking to me. I didn't even know that you knew I was coming." I muttered under my breath, looking at my black high top converses. He looked at me weirdly for a while.

Was it just me that found it weird how he knew I was coming to meet him even though he had his music on the highest volume and he had his back completely to me with his eyes glued to his phone? My guess was that he had superhearing. But then again, who knows.

"I just wanted to talk to you. I didn't think you'd be so opposed to the-" I tried to explain myself. He didn't even let me finish.

"No." He butt in. "I'm not doing this again."

"Again?" I thought to myself. "What was he going on about?"

"I've never even spoken to you before." I replied, with furrowed brows.

He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, analysing me with his eyes, before deciding to speak. "I really shouldn't have anything to do with you." His eyes remained on me as he spoke. Daring me to react.

"But I haven't done anything to you." I told him genuinely confused.

"Yet." Was all he said. I didn't even know what to say to that. So I did the best thing I could do then. I changed the topic.

"How did you know I was coming to you meet you?"

"I heard you coming." He replied. His face made it impossible to know whether he was lying or not.

'Oh ho! So he does have superhuman hearing.' I thought.

"Aren't your ears sensitive then?" I asked sarcastically.

"They are." He replied.

"I could hear your music from 15 steps away. So how did you hear me coming over your very loud music?" I pointed out curiously.

"I just did. I don't have to explain myself to anyone." He raked his eyes over my small form, then spoke again. "Especially you." He added emphasis to the 'you'. His stare was accusing. Then he turned back to the table to pick up his phone, earphones and the black book bag I didn't notice on the table. He simply ignored my existence as he packed up and just as he stood to leave, I spoke. I really didn't want him to go.

"But doesn't the music hurt your ears?" I asked. If I thought his glare was like ice before, now it felt like shards of glass being thrown at me. If looks could kill, I'd have been 6 feet under.

"I am not in the habit of repeating myself," He started slowly. "However, if you make it a point to ignore the fact that I don't want to talk to you and you decide to pester me, then I will have to do what I have to do. And you wouldn't like it when I do."

The threat in his words was prominent. Not like I could ignore it. He spoke again, and as he spoke, a fire seemed to ignite in his eyes. "I'll leave you now, and you're not going to follow me. If you follow me, you'll regret it. So I'll tell you as calmly as I can now. I don't want anything to do with you. Take care of yourself, and let me take care of myself."

Then he smiled, a cold smile, and turned around and walked away. It really would have been foolish to follow him then. But of course, I wasn't going to just let him leave. I did, exactly what he told me not to. I followed him. I decided not long after, that I was a very foolish girl.

***

Author's note: Because of the contest, I had word restrictions. Now that the contest is over, I have decided to edit and make corrections. You can find the edited and properly written version in its own book.

Love, Abby.