Chapter 3
"What the hell?" Freen yelled in shock. "What are you doing in my room?"
She quickly stepped out and checked the number on the door. "805, right? That's me," she muttered before turning back inside, her eyes locking onto the same hazelnut gaze that stared back at her in equal shock.
Becky hesitantly replied, "Uh, it's a dorm for two."
"What nonsense is this?" Freen mumbled irritably to herself. She pulled out her phone from her pocket, barely giving Becky time to adjust. Her piercing stare bore into Becky as if she was about to devour her alive while she made a call, waiting impatiently for someone to answer.
"Miss Orantara, why is there—" she paused for a fraction of a second, giving the girl in front of her another once-over before continuing—"why is there a geeky nerd in my room? Care to explain?"
"Oh, Freen, actually..." Miss Orantara hesitated before continuing. "She is the daughter of one of your grandmother’s business partners. They requested that their daughter have the best dorm on campus. At first, I denied them, knowing there was no dorm as exclusive as yours, but they insisted. So, I spoke to your grandmother, and she approved."
Freen's jaw clenched. "Say what?!" she yelled. "You’ve got to be kidding me! Miss Orantara, take that back if you have the slightest clue what you’ve just done."
"Please talk to your grandmother. If she orders it, I will do the same." Miss Orantara ended the call abruptly.
Freen nodded in disapproval, exhaling sharply. Becky, on the other hand, remained frozen in place. She hadn’t even had a chance to move. How can someone be so rude that they don’t even spare a simple ‘hi’ or ‘hello’? she thought.
Meanwhile, Freen dialed her grandmother’s number, pacing like a madwoman.
"Hello, Grandma, why did you give Miss Orantara permission to let someone share my dorm?" She tried to sound polite, but the frustration in her voice was impossible to miss.
Grandma had expected this call. She knew Freen had never shared her personal space with anyone. Ever since her parents passed away, she barely let anyone get close. Even her friends remained at a distance. That was why she had her own house at such a young age—she refused to stay under her grandmother’s constant nagging. She never shared her car. She never shared anything personal. That was how she kept herself safe—or rather, how she kept everyone she loved safe.
"A very good evening to you too, Saro," Grandma responded calmly. "Can you relax for a second and listen to me? I understand, okay? I know you value your personal space. But you’re so young, and yet you act like a sixty-year-old. I want you to socialize—"
"Get to the point, Grandma. I don’t have all night."
Grandma sighed. "Look, she’s the daughter of our best client and soon-to-be business partner in one of our branches. They approached Miss Orantara using my name, and she couldn’t refuse. When they insisted, Orantara requested me personally, and I said yes. And before you interrupt me again, let me finish." Freen was about to protest but stopped. "I agreed because I couldn’t say no to Orantara."
Freen frowned in confusion. "And why exactly is that?"
"There’s a reason I can’t explain over the phone. Come to dinner this Saturday, and I’ll tell you everything. For now, just know this, my child that—" she paused.
Freen was losing patience. "That what?" she scoffed.
"That Miss Orantara, she is special to me," Grandma finally said, her voice slightly hesitant.
Freen’s eyes widened in surprise. "Grandma, she’s our dean of dorm faculty. Don’t tell me this means what I think it means."
"Freen, please understand. We’ll discuss it over dinner, okay? For now, give me six months. I’ll arrange a new dorm for her. Just let her stay with you for six months, for my sake."
Freen let out a heavy sigh of frustration. "Only for you. And make sure it’s done before six months—I cannot stand her." She said it loudly and clearly, making sure Becky heard every word. Then she hung up.
On the other side, Becky had only heard one side of the conversation, but that alone was enough. It didn’t sound good at all. No one had ever treated her this way before—not even thought about her like that. The hurt on her face was unmistakable. She could have just walked out of the dorm, but she didn’t want to trouble her parents by telling them how badly her first day had gone. She’s always been a sweetheart.
So, instead of reacting, she quietly sat on her side of the bed and continued reading the university brochure, making it clear to Freen that she didn’t care. Even though her ears were still tuned in.
As soon as Freen ended the call, she snapped, "Who told you to take the window side as yours?"
Becky looked up, trying to form a response, but before she could, Freen yelled again, "I’m giving you ten minutes to switch. And after that, if you cause me any inconvenience, it won’t take me long to kick you out."
Silence filled the room, but an intense staring contest had begun. They glared at each other with all the hatred in the world. Finally, Becky broke the tension. "Seriously? I think you tried your best to kick me out, but I guess that didn’t work."
That was it. Freen stepped closer, her eyes blazing like a wounded tigress ready to strike. But Becky, sensing the impending storm, quickly started packing her belongings and switched sides without another word. She didn’t have time to waste on a rude person.
Freen’s heart clenched. This wasn’t how she had imagined their first interaction would be. But her childhood trauma knows no filters—it can be triggered anywhere, at any time, by anyone.
On Freen's side, there was a glass window in an oracle shape that opened up to a beautiful, spacious balcony—one she had specially designed to her liking. She stepped outside through a sliding window pane and then she pulled out a cigarette from the pack in her hand. She lit it and took a deep drag. With each puff, her body relaxed. She knew she had to keep Becky at a distance, no matter what. The last thing she needed was unnecessary drama. And besides, Becky is such a princess that Freen wants to keep her in her pocket. Deep down in her heart, a place was being cleared out just so Becky could have a soft spot in there.
On the other hand, Becky watched Freen light her cigarette, scoffing to herself. "Just because she’s the president doesn’t mean she can do whatever she wants. I already hate her. Except... why does she have to be so boldly attractive? She’s so... handsome." She huffed in frustration, annoyed with herself for even thinking that.
Finally, she finished the chore she had never done before—one that had always been done for her. But life clearly had lessons in store for her.
Freen stepped back inside through the window, settling onto her couch. She glanced around to make sure the dorm’s interior was still up to her standards. But before she could get comfortable, that same voice pulled her back to reality.
"Is it allowed?" Becky asked.
Freen looked up. "Allowed what?"
"Smoking cigarettes?"
Freen stared deep into Becky’s eyes,thinking how dare she question her like that, her gaze sharp and dangerous. The tension thickened. Seconds passed like hours. Then, finally, she spat, "Stay in your lane." With that, she walked into the restroom to freshen up.
Becky huffed. "Classic."