June 1, 2024I had just turned 18 on January 1st this year. That trauma took me five years to recover from, and during that time, I was homeschooled. My uncle suggested that I should be out there socializing, so he enrolled me in a university—Mikhail University. I also passed the exam. It's been two weeks since I enrolled, and I'm still having a hard time getting along with others. It's difficult to fit into an environment I haven't been in for so long. There were times I managed to talk with other students in my class, but only for a short while. Usually, our conversations were about the professor's lessons from the last class. They would walk up to me and ask me to elaborate further on the discussion. That was better than talking about myself.
I was popular for my face, intelligence, and sense of style. I was the standard—that's almost the only thing everybody talks about infront of me, nothing much interesting. But no one can avoid being hated. I was hated too—whether from jealousy, for no reason at all, or maybe because I'd said things I didn't mean.
It was no different outside of school. Rumors spread, saying I killed my parents. I don't blame them for not knowing the truth, but it was as if the truth never came out—truth coated with lies. But it's not! Still, it ruined my image. Even the Grand Ambram Hotel, which I will inherit, was being affected. My reputation might even be over if those rumors were ever proven true. But I know it won't happen—my uncle has it under control. He's not doing this because he wants the hotel or my parents' fortune, taking advantage by showing initiative. He does it because he wants to build a better future for me. He has no children, nor a wife, and he treats me as his own son.
He manages the business for now, and I must say, he does it well. He teaches me everything he knows, never selfish in answering my questions. Sometimes he tells me things even without me asking, randomly, at any time of day. He's a great uncle, a great man—my role model. His name is Fernando Ambram.
The next day of class, I went to the student council office. I had become the school president, and I had to handle issues regarding school policies that some students had transgressed, further looming over the school's reputation. Some teachers were even getting fired, and the university began hiring more professional and ethical professors to uphold our image. It wasn't easy disciplining students either. This prestigious, luxurious school was hard to mold because of its diversity.
After my meeting with the other student council members, I headed to my next class. I wasn't surprised a new professor arrived—but I didn't expect Mr. Rodriguez to be replaced. He was exceptional. Did he quit? That would be unlikely of him; he had even given us a heads-up about the quiz scheduled for today.
"Good morning, class… I am Mr. Valentine Devian, and I am the replacement for Mr. Rodriguez. I hope we'll get along well."
He gave us a devilish smile, dimples showing. He looked young for his age, but his tone was somewhat irritating. I didn't like him already, though everyone else seemed intrigued. His cocky tone and fake smile annoyed me. I didn't know how, but I could tell they were fake.
I had already caught Mr. Devian's attention. I stood out. He didn't flinch. I didn't bat an eye either. No one else seemed to notice his stare.
"Now, I will not be starting a discussion today. I want to get to know my students first. Why don't we do that?"
Everyone sighed with relief and excitement. Girls giggled and fangirled. I rolled my eyes. He pushed up the bridge of his glasses with his forefinger while scanning the names on a paper.
"Ambram, Felix Ambram."
Of course, I was first on the list. I stood with grace, my aloof demeanor casting a cold atmosphere in the room. My presence made him blink—an obvious sign I had his full attention.
"Could you introduce yourself to me and tell me something about yourself?"
This felt like kindergarten. I hated being asked about myself, like anyone cared.
"My name is Felix Ambram. I am 18 years old, and I like reading books."
I ended it like that. I wanted to be brief. I didn't know what else to say either. I heard the irritating giggles around me, but I wasn't bothered.
"Is that all, Mr. Ambram?"
The giggles turned into chuckles but stopped when Mr. Devian raised a hand.
"I also like tigers. The bigger the cat, the warmer the cuddles."
I didn't know why I said that, but everyone laughed. Exactly what I wanted. I shook off the tension between Mr. Devian and me. He gave a twitch of a smile and moved on to the next student. I sat down, sighed in relief, and smirked at my own antics.
...
The bell rang—it was lunchtime. I didn't eat in the cafeteria. I brought my own food and ate in the student council office, as always. Vergel, whom I considered enough of a friend, came in.
"Hey, Felix."
He whispered loudly. I looked at him, questioning his whispering.
"What?"
"I heard Mr. Devian is going to speak with the head of the University, Mrs. Dela Cruz. He's heading there after lunch. Wanna eavesdrop?"
He smiled mischievously, with no other intent. I wanted to know too, maybe even hear about Mr. Rodriguez.
"Vergel, good boy."
"Fuck off."
I chuckled as he cursed.
...
"So, Mr. Devian, how was your first day?"
"It was alright. Better than I expected, although I can see some of the student behaviors you warned me about. It's quite concerning. But I hope I can help with the issue. Your student council is already unwinding the problems in this university, and they've implemented some effective solutions. They're exceptional."
I smirked with pride as I listened from behind the huge doors. The office was large, its echoes loud.
"And I'm quite impressed," Mr. Devian added.
"I hope they continue to do so."
Of course we will. I rolled my eyes.
"And Mr. Rodriguez—how is he doing in Rutherford University?"
Rutherford? So he did transfer.
"He's doing well. He moved of his own will when I suggested it. I thought he'd fit their standard. He's imaginative—rather too imaginative. Students in his previous class began questioning too much, some even rebelling. I'm not sure what trick he used to open their minds like that."
What unreasonable, irrational reasons!
"Mr. Rodriguez was a fucking cool dude," Vergel whispered. I hushed him.
"I see," Mr. Devian said briefly.
"That was all. I hope you'll love Mikhail University."
"I already love it here. I fell in love all over again—it's my alma mater, after all."
Mrs. Dela Cruz sighed, then both chuckled. Chairs scraped against the floor. Vergel and I flinched away from the door and walked down the hallway. I didn't look back, but I felt Mr. Devian's eyes burning into my neck. A chill ran down my spine. I felt lightheaded.
"I can't believe the head would cut ties with someone as remarkable as Mr. Rodriguez," Vergel complained as we made our way to the library. "It was already fucked up in the first place."
"It's not that Mr. Devian isn't good, it's just… Mr. Rodriguez was awesome."
"There's nothing we can do."
"And he's like 26! That young, remarkable professor!"
"You can always visit him at RU. You can discuss the lessons he cut off, or even take the quiz we missed if you ask him."
Vergel went silent. He knew my tone. We stopped walking and looked at each other. My brow quirked.
"Well, we can visit him together though. You like Prof too."
"Yes, but not that way."
I pointed at him.
"Pft, whatever."
He gave me that pouty, sneaky smile. We continued walking.
"My day is fucked." He smirked along the hallway.