Cool night breeze. The surroundings were quiet, with only the streetlights keeping me company as I walked near the boarding house. No reason in particular—I just decided to step out for a while. Just to feel the night. First night here, and I guess... I needed air.
Earlier, I sat on a bench near the corner, talking to Mommy on the phone.
"Yes, Mommy. I've already arranged my things in the room. It's clean, and the place is quiet too."
"Okay, good. Just don't stay out too late, alright? And don't go out unless it's necessary," she reminded me, as always.
"Yes. I'll only be out for a bit, I promise. Just getting some fresh air. I have class early tomorrow."
"Alright. Take care, sweetheart. I love you."
"I love you too, Mommy."
The call had just ended. I was still holding my phone when—
Whack!
A hard, round, and heavy object suddenly hit me on the head.
"Ow! What the—!"
I didn't even finish cursing. I grabbed my forehead, wincing in pain. Damn it, this is definitely going to be a bump tomorrow.
My phone dropped to the ground, but it was fine.
What wasn't fine?
I got hit by a ball. On the head. By some guy—I don't know if he's a player or a sniper.
"Who the hell just took a three-point shot at my skull?!"
Someone ran over. His voice was deep—baritone, kind of confident. Not even a hint of panic, like he was used to causing trouble.
"Oops. My bad," he said as he picked up the ball.
"Sorry, Miss."
When I looked up, damn. He was good-looking. Tall. Fair-skinned. A little sweaty—but the kind of sweat that somehow looks... attractive. And he had dimples.
But I wasn't about to give in.
"What do you think this is, a basketball court?!" I yelled, not holding back.
"Woah, relax. I already said sorry, didn't I?"
He even smiled. Damn it, that smirk—the kind that makes you wonder if he's teasing you or if that's just his natural face.
"I didn't mean to. Just missed the shot."
"'Missed the shot,' really," I muttered, stepping a little closer.
"You know, if that's how you play, maybe stay away from any ball at all. You've got no control."
He scratched the back of his head, clearly not planning to leave. He looked at my phone on the ground but didn't pick it up. Just nodded at it.
"It's not broken, right?"
I rolled my eyes. "Even if it was, I could afford a new one. The issue is my head. You trying to give me a concussion?"
"You're being so dramatic."
"Excuse me?!"
"You are. I already apologized. What more do you want, a press conference?"
"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered.
He looked at me again, this time longer.
"I haven't seen you around before. Are you new here?"
I didn't answer. I just frowned as I picked up my phone. Then I looked back at him.
"Don't come near me again. Next time, aim for the court—not someone's skull."
I walked away. Unbothered by the aura. Unbothered by the smirk.
But as I walked off, I still heard him mutter behind me:
"Take care, Miss Bump."
Seriously. What the hell.