"What?" Are you serious?" Summer's voice jumped again, eyes going wide.
Nora nodded hard.
Summer was completely thrown now. What Nora was saying was clearly true.
But Ethan himself said he liked her?
Then why did he specifically ask for Nora as the girlfriend? And offer to trade the class president position for it?
Thoughts raced through her head in every direction. Was he stirring things up? Playing both sides? Toying with people? Or was it just pure twisted humor?
That jerk.
"That absolute jerk!" Summer's face went red — half embarrassment, half fury. She stomped her foot: "I'm going to find him and say something. I'm so mad I can't stand it!"
"Don't!" Nora grabbed her arm quickly and whispered urgently: "You... you can't win against him..."
"Why not?" Summer glared back.
"He's just... really something else..." Nora said quietly, her eyes carrying that vague awareness of exactly how far Ethan's reach went.
"I know..." Summer deflated again, like all the air had gone out of her.
How could she not know. His presence, his methods, that impossible-to-read depth.
She slumped back, glanced at Nora again, unwilling to let it go entirely, a flicker of self-doubt creeping in: "Nora, was there something wrong with how I looked today? Is that guy blind? Or... maybe he just can't...?"
She was actually starting to question certain of Ethan's basic capabilities.
Nora shook her head blankly. She genuinely couldn't make sense of his moves at all.
He had said himself he liked beautiful women. Summer had basically put herself forward. He refused. And instead insisted on this... quiet, plain girl sitting right here.
Ethan's world was simply beyond her comprehension.
It really made no sense.
...
That afternoon Ethan spent the whole afternoon lost in Call of Duty at GameZone, and only wandered back to campus after dusk, still not fully satisfied.
The 7:30 class meeting. He was definitely going to be the last one in.
The atmosphere in the Business Administration Class Two classroom was restless.
Freshman orientation training was done. The real college years were about to begin. With the class officer election on the table, excitement and anticipation were written across every face in the room.
Ethan, Marcus, and a few others leaned against the corridor wall outside, chatting casually and completely unbothered.
Inside the classroom, Summer's gaze cut straight through the crowd and locked onto Ethan's relaxed back, her expression complicated and unreadable.
Right at 7:30, Mr. Hayes walked in with a folder in hand.
He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on Ethan out of habit: "Ethan, everyone here?"
Ethan lazily straightened up, swept the room with a glance, and replied: "All present, Mr. Hayes."
Mr. Hayes ran through the ground rules quickly — today's purpose was class officer elections, the process would be democratic and open.
He got right to it: "Alright everyone, we're doing this fair and transparent."
"Anyone can put their name forward voluntarily. First round is open nominations, second round is a secret ballot. Highest votes wins. If you want to be class president, come up to the front and give your pitch right now. Equal opportunity for everyone."
A buzz of chatter spread through the room.
Ethan moved to the back row and sat down, picking up his quiet conversation with Marcus like none of this had anything to do with him. Completely relaxed.
But he noticed pretty quickly that the guys' side had gone completely silent. They looked at each other. Not one of them moved toward the front.
Ethan pressed his hand to his forehead. A bunch of cowards. Genuinely embarrassing.
The girls were livelier. After a while, someone finally worked up the nerve to step up.
It was a girl named Linda from the front row.
She was clearly well-prepared, rattling off phrases about "serving classmates" and "building an excellent class community" with the confidence of someone who had rehearsed in the mirror.
Unfortunately the room wasn't buying it. Scattered applause. Polite at best.
Nobody at this age wanted to hear empty slogans. They wanted something real.
Then another girl went up, and her speech was almost a word-for-word copy of Linda's. At the end she turned directly to Mr. Hayes and pledged: "Mr. Hayes, if I'm elected class president, I will fully support your work and guarantee to complete every task you assign one hundred percent!"
To Ethan, those words were an instant disqualifier.
Teachers needed capable people, not just obedient ones. What actually helped was someone with their own thinking, who could spot problems before being told and solve them without being asked.
That kind of blind compliance just made the instructor carry more weight. And it caused things to get missed — people weren't machines.
Mr. Hayes clearly saw the same thing. His gaze moved across the room and landed directly on one person: "Summer, don't just sit there. Get up and say something."
Called out by name, Summer knew hiding wasn't an option anymore.
She had planned on coming in last for maximum impact, building off what others set up. But now she just steadied herself, stood up smoothly, and walked toward the front.
The moment she stepped on stage the whole room shifted.
Especially the guys — eyes snapping forward like a spotlight had switched on.
Summer had clearly put real effort into today. Fresh, polished, and completely put together.
"Wow..." "Summer's on a different level today..."
"How is anyone supposed to compete with that..."
"Class president? It's hers already."
Ryan and Jake, two of her most committed supporters, stared with completely blank expressions, practically drooling.
A few guys in the back looked like they'd already made their decision just from the visual alone.
Ethan just shook his head slightly. Pretty girls had this built-in advantage. High attractiveness was a natural green light no matter the setting or the era.
Summer stood at the center of the front, swept her gaze across the room, lingered on Ethan for a few deliberate seconds — a faint trace of resentment in her eyes — then began.
Her voice was clear and pleasant, her pace steady, her structure clean, her confidence total. Combined with her looks and the warmth in her delivery, it landed well.
She opened by mentioning her experience as class president going back to middle school, then moved into her personality — outgoing, willing to help.
Then she threw out the real draws:
"If I'm elected class president, I'll actively pursue work-study positions for everyone, help with scholarship applications, and support anyone working toward their goals here at NYU."
"I'll set up study groups to help students who need extra support — no one gets left behind. And I'll organize interest clubs so people can develop their hobbies alongside their academics. Balance is important."
"And if anyone happens to struggle with a class—" she gave a light, encouraging smile to the room — "don't stress. I'll personally help you prep and make sure you get through the makeup exam."
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