Chapter six : Nyla

I stirred my drink slowly, watching the crowd filter into the café, my bag safely tucked beside me like a shield. The caramel foam clung to the sides of the cup, and for once, I found it more interesting than the textbook open in front of me. He was late.

Just as I took another sip, the glass door swung open, and I spotted him. Mr. Seth, in his usual rushed-yet-charming way, laughing with some girl.

Who on earth is that?

“Hi Nyla, sorry for making you wait,” she said as he walked up. “I had a huge assignment to submit. Thank god Mr. Seth saved me at the right—”

“I arrived a few minutes ago,” I cut in, flatly. My voice didn’t rise, didn’t dip. Just neutral, like I was reporting the weather. Jessica immediately went quiet.

Mr. Seth slipped into the seat across from me like he owned the space, and Jessica hesitated before sitting down beside him—too close, I noted.

“I’ll have an espresso, and a java chip frappe for her,” he said to the waiter, not even checking if I wanted the something. Urghh.

As the waiter walked off, he flipped open the Maths coursebook, his eyes briefly locking with mine before bouncing back and forth between me and Jessica.

She was staring at me—hard. I didn’t break eye contact, just kept my expression unreadable. Mr. Seth nudged her and mouthed something. I saw the hesitation in her body before she finally blurted, “Um, I’m Jessica.”

She awkwardly raised a hand for a shake, but I didn’t move.

“I’m Nyla Serafine,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. I didn’t mean to sound cold. Maybe I did. I wasn’t sure anymore.

He had already told Jessica about me. I wasn’t surprised—we were going to be studying together after all—but something about the way she entered my world made me uneasy. She was the kind of girl who walked into a room and filled every corner of it, even the ones no one had invited her into.

Jessica was loud. Not in a bad way—just… loud. Her words poured out like a river with no dam. She seemed warm, cheerful, and full of things to say, most of which she directed at Mr. Seth. I knew her type. Open book. Worn-out pages.

She’d been his student for a few years, and it showed in the way she interacted with him—comfortably, like they were in their own little bubble. I wasn’t part of it, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be.

Class began, and for a moment, there was peace. Silence, even. Both of us had our heads bent over the problems. I struggled with the first question—I hated word problems—but the second one clicked. I solved it faster than I expected, and that must’ve triggered something in Jessica, because suddenly, it felt like a competition.

I didn’t mind. It made the hour pass quicker.

“You both did a great job. I’m impressed,” Mr. Shin said, and Jessica clapped her hands together like a child getting praised in kindergarten. I didn’t react. Instead, I started packing my bag, my fingers neat and automatic.

“I would like to have your phone number… in case I have any doubt,” I said, handing him my phone. I made sure to keep my tone neutral. It was a genuine request, but I knew how it might come across.

“Thanks,” I murmured when he gave it back.

“Cold-hearted bitch,” I heard Jessica mutter behind me, just under her breath.

The words hit like a whisper-slap. Not loud enough to confront, but sharp enough to bruise. I didn’t look back.

“Get home safe,” she chirped at him right after, sugar dripping from her voice.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to.

Without waiting for much else, I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked out, letting the café door close behind me.

Outside, the breeze was gentle. The street buzzed with the usual evening chaos—people, horns, footsteps. I walked slowly, blending into it all, invisible and aware. There was something about the cold that made me feel more like myself.

Maybe Jessica was right. Maybe I was a little cold. But cold didn’t mean cruel.

It just meant I was careful with my warmth i guess.

_ _ _ _ _

For the past 15 minutes, my eyes were glued to my phone screen, debating whether I should call him or not. For the first time in years, I’d tried to do my math homework by myself—the one he gave me. It was an easy one, and I had actually paid attention while he taught us, so every single word was still shining in my cerebrum, crystal clear.

All I had to do was tap his number. But I was nervous to hear his voice—yet, at the same time, I craved that velvety, soft tone to touch my ears and spoil my brain. My fingers brushed against the screen, and it started ringing. With every ring, my heartbeat quickened—until he finally answered.

The phone nearly slipped from my hand as I heard him speak. I forgot what I was supposed to say. He repeated himself.

“Hi, this is Nyla… your student,” I managed, in the worst way possible. God, I hate my—

“Oh, hi Nyla. What is it?” he asked, his tone softer now that he recognized me.

“I actually have a doubt about the problem you gave today…” I trailed off, my heart spinning like a carousel.

“Feel free to ask. Which part is confusing you?” he said.

I wanted to say the whole chapter, just to hear him speak all night. But instead, I began, “The last part, where we have to divide both the—”

“Jessica called me all day with the same doubt,” he cut in.

My blood started to simmer as I clenched my phone a little too tight. Still, he excused himself to get his notebook and began explaining.

I had instantly hated her from the moment she stepped into that café. She was talking and talking till the very end. Within just one class, I learned the entire history of her family and pets. I swear, Mr. Stith could write a whole damn essay about her household.

She kept leaning onto his arm, resting her head on his shoulder, slapping him as she laughed at her own jokes. Throughout the class, his face stayed blank, unreadable. Sometimes, a soft smile would appear—but it vanished the moment our eyes met. He might be used to her behavior, but I hated seeing that. It made me want to crush her head beneath my foot.

“Can you follow?” His question dragged me out of my thoughts.

“Yes, and thank you.”

“Hope it’s clear,” he said in that delicate voice of his, the one that could melt me right onto the floor.

“Yes, it’s crystal clear,” I replied.

“That’s good.” I heard him munching.

“Are you eating?”

“Yeah, I gotta sleep early.”

“Oh, sorry for disturbing, then. You can continue… um, bye.”

“You had your dinner?” he asked, the munching sound growing louder but somehow never annoying.

I didn’t expect a casual question from him—my veins jumped at my wrist. “No, actually,” I said.

“Then have your dinner. Good night,” he said and hung up.

I smiled and blushed, my cheeks burning as I cupped them with both hands. Good night. He said it to me. I'm going to have the best night’s sleep.