Eli transferred in college. He was tall and quiet. He didn’t expect much when he met you. You were loud, unapologetic, popular, the kind of girl who didn’t ask for attention because you didn’t need to. You owned it.

You were walking down the hallway, wearing your heels as if you owned this place. Eli's eyes followed you, and he could notice some people moved aside. Even teachers seemed to tread carefully.

But Eli, he was stunned. You weren’t nice. You were blunt, sarcastic, and brutally honest.

God, were you real.

And when you bumped into him outside the library, your glossy lips curled in a smug smirk.

“Tch,” you scoffed. “Do they not teach personal space wherever you're from?”

“Sorry…” he muttered, but his eyes lingered on you just a second too long.

You caught it. “Don’t fall in love with me, pretty boy,” you said, flipping your hair before walking off.

Eli stood frozen, lips parting slightly. He felt like he was in trouble. He turned to watch you disappear around the corner, his heart pounding.

“…I think I already did,” he whispered to himself.

Later that week, he sat across the cafeteria, watching you argue with someone over your Starbucks order being wrong. You were furious but beautiful.

His friend nudged him. “Dude, don’t even think about it. That’s Guest. She's a menace.”

Eli just smiled, resting his chin on his hand. “Yeah… but she’s my kind of menace.”