I was just about to exit the gate when suddenly—
Pak!
A crumpled piece of paper landed—no, hit me on the head.
"Ow… my head again!" I complained, clutching the sore spot. I looked around, and there he was. Zayden. That jerk was the culprit!
"Hey, Zayden! You arrogant, self-absorbed lunatic—what the hell is your problem?!"
Nothing. No reaction. He just kept walking away like he didn't hear me—or maybe he was ignoring me on purpose.
"Hey! Aren't you even going to say sorry?! After hitting me on the head?!"
He stopped. Looked at me like I was the one at fault. "It's not my fault. Why should I apologize? You got in the way. I was aiming for the trash can." He pointed at the bin behind me.
I gasped. Unbelievable.
"You're saying it's my fault?"
He smiled—that kind of smile that was both insulting and charming. Infuriating and electrifying at the same time.
"And… I am good-looking, aren't I?"
My rage was sky-high.
"Yeah, you're handsome, and smart too—but you seriously lack good morals!" I shouted in frustration.
"At least you admitted I'm handsome." He winked, then hopped on his bike and rode off like nothing happened.
"What, does he think the trash can is a basketball hoop?!" I muttered, fuming.
I was about to let it go, but—
---
FLASHBACK
Pak!
"Ow—what the—?!"
"Who the hell just made a three-point shot to my head?!"
"Oops. My bad.
Sorry, Miss."
"What do you think this is, a basketball court at night?!"
"Woah, relax. I said sorry, didn't I?"
"Missed, he says.
You know what, if that's how you play, stay away from anything round. You have zero aim."
"It didn't break, did it?"
"Even if it did, sure, you can afford it. But the issue here is my head. You trying to give me a concussion?"
"You're so dramatic."
"Excuse me?!"
"Dramatic. I already said sorry. What do you want, a press con?"
"You jerk."
"This is the first time I've seen you here. You new around here?"
"Don't come near me again. Next time, try aiming at the court. Not someone's skull."
"Take care, Miss Bump."
---
"Wait a second…"
I stared at him as he rode away. "He's the same guy from the other night… Huh. It's really him!"
No second thoughts. I hopped on my bike and chased after that arrogant little—
"Hey! Wait up!" I yelled as I caught up.
He turned to look, completely unbothered, like I wasn't furious at all.
"Oh? Why are you following me? I know I'm handsome, but no need to fangirl this hard."
"You—! You're the same guy who hit me with a ball the other night, aren't you?! That night!" I snapped.
He stopped. Pretended to buffer like his brain needed to load.
Then—"Ahhh! So you were that girl!" he laughed. "Sorry, didn't recognize you. Miss Bump…"
Miss. Bump. Again.
"You're seriously laughing right now?" I asked, smiling through gritted teeth.
"Nothing, you're kinda cute when you're mad," he replied with that kind of smile that should honestly be reported to the authorities.
---
The banter continued as we headed in the direction of the boarding houses.
"You're following me even here? Wow, stalker mode: activated!" he teased.
"In your dreams. I go this way too," I snapped.
"Wow, already updated with my address and everything? That's dedication."
"You wish."
He stopped in front of a house—turns out it was his boarding house. He opened the gate while I continued biking uphill.
But just a few steps away, I stopped.
He couldn't always get the last laugh.
Just a few meters away, I pulled out some papers from my bag—old reviewers, all misprinted. I tore them up, crumpled each piece, and without hesitation, hurled them back at him.
Pak! Pak! Pak!
They hit his back. He spun around in surprise.
Me?
Grinning.
I pedaled away fast, smiling wide.
"Finally got my revenge," I whispered to myself, rolling my eyes at the wind.