Evelyn tried to focus on her notes.
She really did.
Her pen moved steadily across the page, writing down key points, underlining dates, circling anything that sounded important enough to come back to later. On the surface, she probably looked like every other serious student in the room quiet, attentive, doing exactly what she was supposed to do.
But her attention kept slipping.
Not completely. Just enough to be noticeable to her.
Now and then, her eyes would drift up before she could stop them. Not for long. Just glances. A second, maybe less. The kind of look you could pretend didn't happen if anyone asked.
Still, it was happening more than she liked.
There wasn't anything particularly unusual about him. That was the strange part. He wasn't trying to be engaging or overly friendly. He wasn't making jokes to win the class over or telling stories to fill the silence. He simply taught.
And somehow, that made it harder to ignore him.
"Coursework will account for forty percent of your final grade."
Evelyn wrote it down immediately, pressing her pen a little harder than necessary.
"Deadlines are not flexible," he continued. "If you have issues, you address them before not after."
There was a slight shift in the room at that. A few quiet groans, someone whispering something under their breath. He didn't react.
Of course, he didn't.
Evelyn almost smiled, just a little.
Predictable.
She liked that.
Still, there was something else beneath it. Something she couldn't quite explain. It wasn't admiration yet. And it definitely wasn't anything as dramatic as interest.
It was more like… awareness.
Like her mind had quietly decided he was someone worth paying attention to, even if she didn't know why.
She looked up again.
This time, her gaze lingered a second too long.
And that was when it happened.
"You."
The word cut through the lecture, calm but direct.
Evelyn froze.
It took her a second to realize he was looking in her direction.
No not just her direction.
At her.
Her stomach dropped slightly as she straightened in her seat, her fingers tightening around her pen.
"Yes… you," he said, not unkindly, but without softening it either. "Second row."
A few heads turned.
Of course they did.
Evelyn felt the attention before she fully processed it, that familiar discomfort rising too quickly for her to push it down.
"Yes, sir?" she managed, her voice quieter than she intended.
"What did I just say about deadlines?"
Her mind went blank.
Completely blank.
She had been listening. She knew she had. She had even written it down. But now, with his attention fixed on her, with half the room suddenly aware of her existence, the words refused to come together properly.
For a brief second, she considered guessing.
Bad idea.
"…they're not flexible?" she said finally, unsure.
A pause.
Not long. Just enough to make her question everything.
"Correct," he replied.
Relief came too quickly, settling in her chest before she could stop it.
"But," he added, and something in his tone shifted—not harsher, just more precise, "you should be certain when you answer."
Evelyn nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."
"Good."
And just like that, the moment passed.
He continued the lecture as if nothing had happened.
But something had.
Her heart was still beating a little too fast, her grip on the pen tighter than before. She forced herself to write again, even though her thoughts were no longer as steady.
That was exactly what she had wanted to avoid.
Attention.
It wasn't even a big moment. He hadn't embarrassed her. He hadn't been harsh. If anything, it had been… normal.
So why did it feel like more?
Evelyn exhaled quietly, trying to settle herself.
It's nothing.
Just a question.
Just a lecturer doing his job.
Still, she didn't look up again for the rest of the lecture.
Not even once.
By the time the class ended, the room filled with noise almost instantly. Chairs scraped back, conversations picked up, phones reappeared in people's hands like they had been waiting for permission.
Evelyn stayed seated for a moment longer than necessary, closing her notebook slowly.
She preferred leaving when things had thinned out a bit. Less crowded. Less chance of awkward eye contact or getting caught in someone else's conversation.
But today, that didn't quite work.
"Hey."
The voice came from her left.
Evelyn glanced up, a little surprised.
A girl stood beside her desk, her expression open, curious rather than judgmental. She looked familiar maybe from earlier, maybe from the hallway.
"You're in this class too, right?" the girl asked.
Evelyn nodded. "Yeah."
"I figured," she said, shifting her bag higher on her shoulder. "That was… intense for a first lecture."
There was a hint of amusement in her voice.
Evelyn hesitated, then gave a small nod. "A little."
"I'm Mia, by the way."
"Evelyn."
"Nice to meet you."
Mia smiled easily, as this kind of interaction came naturally to her. "Do you always answer questions like that, or were you just unlucky today?"
Evelyn blinked, caught off guard for a second before letting out a quiet, almost reluctant laugh.
"Definitely unlucky."
"Good," Mia said. "Because I was sitting there thinking, if he calls on me next, I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear him."
Evelyn smiled properly this time, the tension from earlier easing just a little.
"Honestly, same."
They started walking out together, falling into step more easily than Evelyn expected.
"Still," Mia continued, glancing back briefly toward the front of the room, "he's kind of… intimidating, don't you think?"
Evelyn followed her gaze before she could stop herself.
Adrian Hayes was still at the desk, gathering his things, completely unaffected by the noise around him.
"Yeah," she said quietly.
But that wasn't the whole truth.
Intimidating, yes.
But also something else.
Something she didn't have a name for yet.
And that unsettled her more than anything.
As they stepped out into the hallway, Evelyn felt it again that subtle shift inside her, like something had quietly changed without asking for permission.
It didn't feel big.
It didn't feel important.
Just a small moment in a normal day.
But somehow, she knew
This wasn't where it would end.