Chapter 4 - Late yet Perfect

Ray's POV

Ring, ring...

The alarm blared, and I groaned, barely cracking my eyes open. I didn’t want to wake up. After all, I’d gone to bed at 3 a.m., and now it was only 7. Too early. My classes started at 9, and the college was just a 30-minute drive away. Two more hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt, right?

Except... Oh, crap! It was 8:30 already. Late on the second day. Ugh.

I jumped out of bed and rushed to freshen up as fast as I could. Downstairs, my mom was waiting.

“Have breakfast!” she said, her usual insistence laced with a scolding tone. She’s an amazing cook, but eating the same thing all day sometimes irritates me. Besides, I didn’t have time. “I’m not hungry,” I lied, hoping to escape.

But mothers never listen to such excuses. She scolded me for being late but still handed me a sandwich to eat on the way. “Thank you!” I called over my shoulder, grabbing my bag and rushing out.

Driving like a maniac, I tried to make up for lost time. But even at my fastest, there was no way to cover a 30-minute distance in 15. Predictably, I arrived late.

The campus felt deserted, and I hate being alone. Too embarrassed to face my professor and risk a bad impression, I decided to skip the class altogether. It was only the second day anyway—probably just more introductions and boring formalities. Instead, I headed toward the canteen, hoping to kill some time.

To my relief, I wasn’t alone. Someone else was there, sitting at a table, absorbed in her thoughts.

“Heyyyy, Miss Carry!” I called out impulsively as I walked toward her.

She looked up, confused. It took me a second to realize my mistake. Oops, I’d just used the nickname I’d made up for her in my head. “Sorry, sorry!” I said, trying to play it cool. She just smiled—a small, polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Wow. Rude. Elio was right about her. But I reminded myself not to judge too quickly. “My name is Ray Sinclair,” I said, trying to sound friendly.

“Yeah, I know,” she replied in a neutral tone. “I heard you introduce yourself in class.”

Okay, not a great start. Maybe she didn’t want company. Still, I wasn’t in the mood to sit alone. I pushed on. “You’re late too?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. Slept in. Though, honestly, I already had four hours of sleep earlier in the evening. My sleep schedule is a mess.”

Her reply came quickly, almost like she’d been waiting for someone to ask. She seemed... relieved to talk. “Maybe your brain needs a break,” I joked. “Sounds like it works overtime.”

“Exactly! No one ever gets that,” she said, her voice a mix of relief and frustration. “My brain’s always running—thinking, regretting, overanalyzing everything. It’s exhausting.” She paused, her tone softening. “Not even him—even when I told him about it. He just brushed it off, like it was nothing. But you? You understood without me even saying anything. Do you have superpowers or something?” Her voice was quieter when she spoke of him, tinged with disappointment, but she quickly brightened again, as if trying to brush it aside.

I chuckled. “Just a guess. You seem like a deep thinker.”

For a moment, she seemed at ease, but when I casually asked, “Him? You have a boyfriend?” the shift in her demeanor was instant. She went quiet.

Yikes. Did I hit a nerve? Desperate to fix the mood, I said, “Remember earlier when you laughed at something I said in class? I wish I knew what it was.”

Her lips curved into a small smile again. Thank God. “Hmmm, you’re funny,” she said softly, and soon, she was back to talking. Not about “him,” of course, but about random, surface-level things. I didn’t mind. Her chatter was oddly captivating, and for the first time, I enjoyed listening to someone ramble.

Just as we were getting comfortable, the bell rang. I groaned inwardly—I wasn’t ready for this conversation to end.

“Guess we should head to class,” I said, standing up. She nodded, and we walked out together.

On the way, she suddenly twisted her ankle. She nearly fell, but I caught her arm just in time. Before I could say anything, she quickly pulled away.

“Please don’t touch me,” she said firmly. “I know you were trying to help, but... I’m not comfortable with physical contact. Not even with my friends.”

Her words caught me off guard, but I nodded. “Got it. Sorry about that.”

She softened. “Thank you. And... sorry if I yapped too much earlier.”

“Not at all! It was fun. Let’s do it again sometime,” I said, winking without thinking.

Wait, did I just wink? I never do things like that—especially not with girls. What will she think of me now? But her reaction was normal. If she’d felt uncomfortable, she would’ve said something, like she did about the touch.

Still, my overthinking wouldn’t stop. Did she notice the wink? Did she read too much into it? Ugh.

But as we entered the class, Elio was already glaring at me like I’d committed a crime. He didn’t even have to say anything—I could feel the judgment.

I slid into the seat next to him, trying to explain why I was late.

He finally let it go but raised an eyebrow.

“What were you doing with Aria, huh?”

“She was late too,” I said casually, not wanting to share more than necessary.

That seemed to satisfy him—for now. But honestly, I wasn’t ready to share what had happened in the canteen with anyone—not even Elio.

For the first time, I didn’t regret being late. If anything, I’d say it was worth it.

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