Merlina blinked, leaning in like she was inspecting evidence at a crime scene. The tear at the corner of the page was barely noticeable, it was paper-thin and harmless.
"Seriously? It's just a paper cut. Trust me, the book's still breathing," she said, trying to keep things light. She couldn't help but wonder if he was some kind of neat freak or chronic perfectionist.
He lifted an eyebrow, with a blank expression on his face. "It was brand new."
She couldn't tell if he was actually being serious or simply just trying to a conversion. "You're not gonna sue me, are you?" She teased, her lips curving into a playful smile.
For a moment, she thought he might actually smile. But nope, he just kept that same blank, serious look.
Merlina sighed, dialing the sass down a notch. "I'm really sorry. It must've happened while I was flipping through it. I'll get you a new one, if it matters that much."
She offered a small, truce-like smile. "I'm Merlina, by the way. You are…?"
He gave her a look like she'd asked the most ridiculous question. "Like you don't know."
Her smile faltered. "Excuse me?" Her irritation slowly building.
One of Merlina's biggest red flags was arrogance, pride, cockiness, the whole package. She didn't care if your face looked like it was carved by angels.
He stepped forward, closing the space between them like he had every right to. "Craig Lesnar."
He said it like his name was supposed to ring a bell, but new flash, she had only just resumed College. She'd been too consumed with unpacking and adjusting to the new air. For a matter of fact, she was till trying to memorize her own room mates name.
And here he was, acting like he owned the pavement she walked on, like his name alone should make the earth tilt.
When he said it ' Craig Lesnar ' she met his eyes, waiting, almost expecting him to follow it up with something. A reason. A hint. Anything.
But he didn't.
He just stared, calm and silent, with a faint crease between his brows, as if waiting for her to catch up.
Before she could make sense of it, the sharp click of footsteps broke the silence.
"Heyyy!" Phoebe's voice cut through the moment. Loud, sudden, and right on cue.
She and Megan appeared at her side, both wide-eyed with curiosity, clearly trying to decode the situation. Craig gave them half a glance, sharp and dismissive, as though they were background noise.
Without waiting for a response, Phoebe continued, "Oh, I'm Phoebe, and this is Megan," she chirped, cheerful in a way that seemed almost designed to disarm the tension.
Except it didn't.
Craig didn't respond. No acknowledgment. No interest. He simply turned and walked away, head down, phone in hand, already halfway checked out like they were yesterday's notifications.
Phoebe blinked after him. "What the hell?" she muttered. "Did he just…?" Her red hair shimmered under the sunlight, practically bristling with irritation. "Craig Lesnar is fucking asshole."
Merlina shook her head, trying to sound casual, but her voice came out tight. "Tell me about it."
The entire encounter felt like it had happened in fast-forward, and now the air around her felt charged. The quiet fever he sparked in her hadn't cooled, it just settled into her bones.
Phoebe narrowed her eyes, arms crossed over the oversized varsity jacket, her boots crunched faintly on the gravel path as they walked through the courtyard, golden leaves scattered across the ground like decorations.
"What kind of person just brushes people off like that?" She asked, cleary still stunned.
Megan laughed, the wind catching the loose curls that had escaped her claw hair clip. "Apparently, he's got a fan club. You should see how many people kiss his ass."
"Wait," Merlina said slowly, tugging her scarf tighter as a breeze cut through the air. "You two know him?"
Phoebe shot her a look like she'd grown a second head. "Who doesn't?"
"So he's… popular?"
"Popular's putting it mildly," Megan said, already scrolling through her phone with one hand, her nails painted a chipped deep red. "He's Belford's royalty."
"He is?" Merlina asked, trying not to sound too interested, her fingers absently fidgeting with the strap of her messenger bag.
Phoebe rolled her eyes and shifted the iced coffee in her hand to her other one. "But trust me, he's not all that."
"Yeah, yeah," Megan added with a snort, blowing hair out of her face. "Just the son of Charles Lesnar. CEO of CCL Group. Billionaire dad. That kind of thing."
Well. That explained a lot.
Must be nice, Merlina thought. Walking around like the world was built to make room for you. Filthy rich, ridiculously good-looking, with a face so sharp it could be sculpted into marble and still not do you justice.
"But who cares?" Phoebe huffed. "He's a walking ick. Craig Lesnar is what happens when ego drinks espresso."
He was indeed shut off, cold and indifferent. He moved like he didn't need anyone, like the world was just noise and he'd already tuned it out.
Maybe it wasn't personal. Maybe that was just who he was. A brick wall in human form.
"And clearly," Phoebe added, still fuming, "he has a thing for ignoring everyone. Mini God wannabe."
Merlina laughed, but it was delayed. That moment with him still clung to her memory. His voice, his eyes, that quiet, lethal calm.
Even the way he walked away, unbothered and closed off, it stuck in her head like a song she didn't even like but couldn't stop playing.
Still, he had handed her his handbook. She must've met him during his five-minute window of human decency.
They crossed the lawn toward Phoebe's car, the campus bathed in soft light and a hush that didn't match the mess that just happened.
"So…" Phoebe prompted, glancing over. "What were you even doing with Craig Lesnar?"
Merlina blinked, caught off guard by the question. "He…uh….he let me borrow his handbook. That's it." She tried to sound casual, even though her mind had already replayed the encounter twice.
Phoebe raised an eyebrow, giving Merlina a look that said there's definitely more to that story.
But Merlina just offered a faint, nonchalant smile and kept walking, pretending not to notice. Because there wasn't actually.
She had met him, thought he was just a random college guy and asked for his handbook, uniquely handsome yes, but that had been it.
What was it about Craig Lesnar? Even a five-minute interaction with him felt like winning some prize she hadn't known she was competing for.
Back at the hostel, after dinner, few more gossips with her roommates and an unhealthy amount of shared memes, Merlina curled up on her bed and FaceTimed home.
Her comfort zone.
Her dad, Aiden Sanchez picked up on the second ring. He was every bit the overworked-but-trying parent, her younger siblings Melissa and Alistair squished into the frame. Her sister waved enthusiastically. Her brother crunched cereal like it was noon, not night.
And in the background, was Fiona, her dad's desperate-to-be-wife hovered, pretending not to eavesdrop.
Yes, it had only been a year since her mother passed, and already her dad had moved on—with Fiona, the fakest, gold-digging 26-year-old bitch in Merlina and her siblings' opinion.
"My day was fine," Merlina told them. "Pretty chill. Productive."
Her family wasn't exactly perfect, especially after her mom died. They had more arguments than ever, more tension, more silence that stretched too long. But love still lived there, buried beneath the mess. Stubborn and steady. Even when everything else felt like it was falling apart.
Her brother, Alistair snorted. "Did you make new friends? Real ones or just fake-smilers?"
"I made real-ish ones. My roommates are cool."
For now.
Merlina almost added. Phoebe and Megan had been welcoming, easy to talk to, easy to laugh with. The kind of fast bond that made it feel like they'd been friends forever. She hoped it stayed that way.
"No mean girls? No secret cults?" Melissa grinned.
"Not yet," Merlina laughed, even though the blondie tried to be, but she wasn't going to give her relevance. "One professor though, already dropped a surprise test. Zero chill."
"Welcome to the big leagues," her dad said with a smile. "Keep your head down. Stay focused. No distractions."
It was a relief to see her dad finally come around, especially after nearly two months of pleading, arguing, and slamming doors.
He hadn't wanted her anywhere near Belford, not after what happened to her mom. Not at the same college where she had died under suspicious, unanswered circumstances.
"Yeah," she replied softly. "I remember."
After they hung up, she sat for a moment, staring at her desk. The new copy of the Law 101 handbook lay untouched beside her laptop, still sealed.
She hadn't mentioned Craig again.
Not even once.
But the truth was, she couldn't stop thinking about him. His eyes carried a sharp, unusual depth, as if he were always seeing something the rest of them weren't.
And yet… despite every red flag, he lingered in her mind. Stubborn. Unforgettable.
Day one, survived.
Barely.
She reached for her charger, already half-asleep, when her phone buzzed.
One new message: Unknown number.
'You're not as invisible as you think, Merlina.'
She froze.
And somehow, deep in her gut, she knew that this was only the beginning.