Ciro's P.O.V
After staying up last night practicing my presentation and only crashing into bed at four in the morning, I was tired to say the least.
But at least I was confident I wouldn't embarrass myself today. Probably.
As usual, I arrived early and claimed a seat near the front, skimming through my notes for what felt like the hundredth time, chanting every line, figure, and transition in my head like a prayer to the academic gods.
Class was set to start in five minutes. Gradually, people trickled in, the hum of chatter growing louder as bags hit desks and someone at the back laughed too loudly.
Just as I flipped to my final page, I spotted Leone walking through the door, looking painfully well-rested.
I immediately lifted my hand and waved him over.
"Leone! Over here."
He smiled when he saw me and weaved his way through the seats before dropping into the chair beside mine. He smelled like mint shampoo and eight hours of sleep. Disgusting.
"You ready?" he asked, nudging my elbow.
"Of course," I muttered, pushing my notes at him. "Check the slide with the expenditure breakdown again. I swear the chart labels were messed up last night."
He glanced over it, calm as ever.
"Fixed them this morning. Relax, we fixed everything yesterday."
I let out a weak laugh that was half relief, half despair. If I passed out there, just roll me out of the room. I'd be fine.
Moments later, the professor strode in and clapped his hands once. Instantly, seats shuffled, conversations died, and the air got five degrees hotter—
Or maybe that was just me.
"All right, everyone. Today we're hearing the group reports on the quarterly finance data and projected trends. Leone and Ciro, you're up first."
I grabbed my flash drive, gave Leone a look that said good luck, and followed him to the front.
Leone started strong, his voice smooth as he outlined our purpose: analyzing spending patterns of small local businesses for the past three quarters and forecasting next quarter's revenue growth.
He didn't stutter once. Show-off.
When my turn came, I stepped forward and clicked to the next slide.
The room suddenly felt twice as bright—
Or maybe that was the four hours of sleep kicking me in the teeth.
"As you can see from this chart," I said, pointing at the bar graph, praying my hand didn't shake, "expenditures on marketing rose by fifteen percent compared to the previous quarter. This shows that more small businesses are investing in online promotions to expand their customer base..."
A few heads nodded. The professor even leaned in slightly.
Leone took over again, detailing the revenue projection model and possible risks if the ad spending tanked. He wrapped up seamlessly and tossed it back to me for the conclusion.
"In summary," I said, managing not to squeak, "we recommend reallocating ten percent of the advertising budget to community outreach and loyalty programs. This should balance the risk of overspending while still driving customer growth."
I clicked to the final slide with more force than necessary.
"Any questions?"
A short pause, then a few polite questions. We fielded them without issue, and when Professor Daniels finally said,
"Good work, you two. You may sit down,"
my knees nearly gave out in relief.
I flopped back into my seat, finally exhaling. One thing down. Two more lectures to go. Then... Kenan.
When class ended, Leone and I stepped outside together. He looked ready to walk off when I cleared my throat and forced out a casual,
"Hey, wanna grab a drink sometime? My treat."
He paused, surprised, then smiled.
"Sure. When?"
"I'm free tomorrow," I said automatically.
Of course I was free. It's Saturday. What else do I do? Binge notes alone and overthink my life choices?
"Tomorrow's fine."
We exchanged numbers. He waved goodbye with that easy grin that made me wonder if I was overthinking this. It was just a thank-you drink. Totally normal.
I shot Jacob a text. Where are you?
He replied instantly: Near the lecture hall.
When I found him, he was lounging on a bench like he owned the campus. The second he saw me, he smirked.
"Are you ready to go in?" I asked.
"Ciro, there's still twenty minutes left. Sit down before you combust."
I raised my hands in surrender.
"It was just a suggestion."
Twenty minutes passed with Jacob humming some song while I stared into oblivion. When the last lecture ended, I headed back to the dorm, knowing I still had the Kenan assignment to survive tonight.
Back in my room, I showered and changed into something comfortable but not too comfortable. I didn't know exactly when Kenan would show up, so I got ready early. Just in case.
Halfway through fixing my hair, Jacob rose up from the bed and scanned my outfit.
"Ciro, are you going on a date?"
I glared at him through the mirror.
"No. Why?"
"You only use that perfume when you're going someplace special."
I rolled my eyes.
"What if I just want to smell nice for myself?"
He crossed his arms.
"Sure. So where are you going?"
"To finish my assignment. With Kenan."
Jacob snorted.
"You're so stubborn you don't even see it."
"See what?"
"Oh, nothing, Mr. Oblivious."
"Whatever. How's it going with Lucian?" I shot back.
Jacob's smirk softened.
"Good. We're going hiking tomorrow."
"Oh, that's nice. I offered Leone a drink, so we're going to a café tomorrow."
Jacob's eyebrows shot up.
"So you are going on a date."
"What? No! It's to say thanks for helping me."
"Helping you when?"
"He's my model. Didn't you know?"
Jacob sighed dramatically.
"Of course not. That's why I'm asking, genius."
I stuck out my tongue at him.
"My bad."
He leaned on the doorframe.
"I thought you were gonna ask Kenan."
"I was, but Meeka asked him first."
"Meeka? So they're a thing now?"
"No. Apparently, it was a family setup."
"Didn't Meeka say they were together?"
"All I heard was they went on a date."
"And how do you know that?"
"I found out when I came back late the other day. She helped me out."
"Oh, so you have new friends now, huh?"
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed.
Kenan: I'm here.
I unplugged my phone, grabbed my wallet, and waved Jacob off.
As I pulled the door shut, Jacob called after me,
"Enjoy your date!"
I swung the door back open to hiss,
"IT'S NOT A DATE."
"Uh-huh. Says the guy who dressed up."
I looked down.
What's wrong with the way I dressed?
Grumbling, I headed out the gate. The second I stepped outside, a loud horn made me jump back. Kenan's sleek black car — all polished chrome and expensive attitude — sat waiting.
I rolled my eyes and flipped him off before yanking the passenger door open.
"Really, Kenan? Was that necessary?"
He just shrugged and pulled away from the curb.
"Five minutes late, Ciro. Not very punctual of you."
"How far is this place?"
"Impatient much?"
I side-eyed him. It's never impatient to want to know if you're about to get murdered, Kenan.
We stopped in front of a glass-fronted building, all cozy lights and a chalkboard sign by the entrance. I squinted at it as I got out.
"This is it?"
Kenan shot me a grin as he parked.
"You ask a lot of questions. You think I'm going to kidnap you?"
"You'd be surprised," I muttered, waiting as he sauntered over.
We stepped inside and an elevator carried us to the top floor. When the doors slid open, a small sign greeted us: Beginner Couples Crocheting Class.
I turned to glare at him.
"Couples?"
Kenan burst out laughing.
"What? It was on discount."
You would think he was born with a silver spoon instead of a gold one with the way he talks.
His hand somehow found its way into mine.
"But aren't we a couple, Ciro?" he teased, voice low near my ear.
I tugged, trying to pull free.
"Oh, please," I scoffed, heat creeping up my neck.
He only tightened his grip, a smug grin playing on his lips as he dragged me inside, our hands still stubbornly linked.