The campus buzzed with the usual mid-morning energy, but I could barely focus. My mind was racing, trying to piece together everything that had happened in the last few days. Johan. The kiss. The confusion. Why did he kiss me?

I didn't even know him. I barely knew anything about him, apart from the fact that he was a notorious playboy-charming, flirty, the kind of guy who would flirt with anything that moved. He had a reputation for moving from one girl to the next without looking back. So why had he kissed me?

I didn't get it. And I wasn't about to sit around and figure it out.

I spotted him from across the quad as I walked toward the library. Of course, he was standing there, leaning against a tree, talking to some friends. I could hear his laughter even from a distance-loud, carefree, completely at ease. And then, like some weird magnetic force pulling me in, our eyes met.

For a split second, I froze. My stomach flipped in a way that made no sense. No, I couldn't deal with this. I quickly diverted my eyes, pretending I hadn't seen him, and then-because I had no better plan-I walked the other way. Fast.

I was literally dodging him, weaving through the crowded pathways like a character in some sort of spy thriller. I felt like I was in an action movie-only instead of dodging bullets, I was dodging Johan. He was the one thing I couldn't quite handle, and I was doing everything I could to avoid him.

I made a sharp turn into the building, checking over my shoulder just to make sure he hadn't spotted me. The hallway was crowded, but I didn't care. I needed to disappear. I ducked into the nearest restroom, leaned against the door, and took a few deep breaths.

I had no idea why I was so freaked out. It wasn't like I was in love with him or anything. Hell, I didn't even know him. All I knew was that he kissed me, and it was messy, unexpected, and left me with way more questions than answers.

Why would a guy like him kiss me? And why hadn't he just kept moving on to the next person like he always did? I knew better than anyone not to get involved with someone like him. He was the kind of guy who would smile at you one minute and then forget your name the next. The kind of guy who kissed you in the heat of the moment and then probably didn't think twice about it afterward. I wasn't about to get caught up in that.

And yet, here I was, hiding in a bathroom, heart racing like a drumline, trying to outrun the inevitable confrontation. I glanced at myself in the mirror. You're being ridiculous, North. I rubbed my face, trying to calm my nerves, but my reflection only reminded me of the mess I was trying to avoid.

I stayed in there for a good five minutes, hoping he'd just move on and forget about me. But then, as if the universe had a cruel sense of humor, the door to the restroom creaked open, and there he was.

Johan.

I turned to face him, my stomach flipping again, though this time, I couldn't run. He leaned against the doorframe, casually watching me, like this was just another regular interaction.

"North," he said, his voice smooth, like he wasn't just walking into the restroom uninvited or anything. "You know, it's a little weird hiding in here."

I crossed my arms, trying to act like I wasn't totally rattled. "I'm not hiding," I said a little too quickly. "Just needed a minute."

He raised an eyebrow. "A minute? Or just trying to avoid me?"

The nerve of him. I didn't even know how to answer that. Part of me wanted to snap at him, tell him to get lost, to stop messing with my head. But another part of me-the part that was still confused by the kiss-just wanted to run.

"Look," I started, my voice more defensive than I meant it to be, "I don't know what you think this is, but I don't do the whole... whatever this is with you. I don't even know you."

He took a step closer, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and for a second, I hated how damn charming he was. "You don't know me, huh?" His voice dropped slightly. "So you're just going to pretend like that kiss didn't happen?"

I flinched, the memory of it fresh and uninvited. "Yeah, maybe. Because I don't know why it happened."

Johan's smile faltered just a bit. There was something in his eyes, a flicker of something-guilt, maybe? But then, just as quickly, the mask was back on, the cocky, confident persona that seemed to be glued to him.

"Let's just say I don't make out with people on a whim," he said, his tone lighter now, almost playful.

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or punch him in the arm. "Yeah, well, maybe you should start. Because I'm not interested in whatever game you're playing."

He tilted his head, as if he was genuinely curious. "You sure about that?"

I sighed, stepping around him to reach the door. "Yeah. I'm sure."

But as I stepped past him, I could feel his gaze still on me, lingering. I wasn't sure if it was frustration, amusement, or something else entirely, but whatever it was, I could feel it weighing on me.

And as I walked out of the restroom, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. It wasn't even close. But right now, the only thing I wanted to do was get as far away from Johan as possible. And that, I realized, was the hardest part. Because the more I tried to avoid him, the more I felt like I was falling into something I couldn't control.

And I hated that.

_______________

The next day at college felt like walking through a minefield, and I was trying my best to avoid stepping on any explosives. Specifically, I was doing everything in my power to avoid Johan. It was as if he had become some sort of contagious disease, and I was convinced that getting too close would result in some irreversible emotional outbreak. It wasn't like I was actively trying to be rude; it was just that his presence triggered something in me that I couldn't yet process. So, I adopted a strategy that could only be described as "the art of invisibility."

Whenever I walked down the hall, I turned my body into a human shadow, carefully timing my movements like a ninja on a stealth mission. I'd duck behind walls, speed-walk around corners, and when necessary, I perfected my "I'm on a mission, don't talk to me" face. Think "I'm too busy to even acknowledge your existence." The trick was in the eyes: wide open, no eye contact. If I did see him, I quickly calculated my escape route, almost as if I were in some spy movie, dodging bullets. I'd quickly dive into the nearest classroom or even pretend to be on an urgent phone call, something that required an immediate departure from the scene. Anything to avoid that awkward confrontation.

I also made sure to sit as far away from him as possible. If I happened to be in a class where we shared the same space, I strategically chose seats that seemed to be miles away. The further the better. A seat by the window? Perfect. Preferably in the last row, right next to the door-just in case I needed a quick exit. It became a routine, like clockwork, and honestly, I was starting to get pretty good at it.

One time, we were both in the cafeteria, and I saw him approaching my table. Instantly, my brain switched to full panic mode. I grabbed my tray, looked around for an escape, and managed to make a beeline for the restroom. I mean, who goes to the restroom with food in hand? Me, apparently. The best part? I was so determined to avoid him that I didn't even realize I had forgotten to grab a drink. I went through the whole meal in a state of dehydration. It was a small price to pay for peace of mind, though.

The thing is, I couldn't really figure out how to deal with these emotions. It was like a flood of thoughts, memories, and mixed signals, all jumbled together, and it all hit me too suddenly. One minute everything was fine, and the next, it felt like I was in some sort of emotional freefall, trying to hold onto something solid. But nothing felt solid. I felt like I was in this strange, in-between space where nothing made sense, and I didn't even know how to process it.

But honestly, avoiding Johan? At least that was working. It was probably the only thing that felt remotely under my control.

The next day, it felt like I was living in some kind of awkward sitcom where every episode revolved around avoiding Johan. I'd perfected my "ninja stealth mode" by now, but even with all my evasive maneuvers, I couldn't shake the sense that I was living on borrowed time. Sooner or later, I'd have to face the music-or in this case, the awkward silence.

I made my grand entrance to campus, already plotting my escape routes. As I walked across the quad, I spotted Johan in the distance, talking to a group of people. I made a snap decision: zigzag pattern. I immediately veered right, ducking into a side alley, hoping he wouldn't notice me. If he did, well, I'd just pretend to be looking for something on the ground, or better yet, act like I'd just had a sudden realization that I had to run to class-at that very second.

It worked. I didn't see him again for a while, and I started feeling a little cocky about my stealth skills. But, of course, the universe was laughing at me because my next class was in the same building, and as luck would have it, it was his class too. The chances of us not bumping into each other were slim to none.

So, naturally, as I entered the classroom, I could feel the weight of fate pressing down on me. My eyes darted across the room, scanning for the safest spot. The back row was too obvious, but the front row? It was too... exposed. I quickly found a middle spot and slid into the desk like it was a race against time. Just as I was settling in, I saw him-Johan-making his way toward the same area.

For a moment, I froze. A brief wave of panic washed over me. This was the moment, I thought. Either I confront it or go down in flames like an emotional wreck.

But before I could make any decisions, the universe threw me a lifeline in the form of a sudden class interruption. A student who was notoriously late burst through the door, loudly apologizing, and with that distraction, I seized my opportunity. I grabbed my books like I was about to make a quick getaway, but instead of actually leaving, I casually shifted a few desks between us, creating an unspoken barricade. It was a masterpiece.

Johan didn't seem to notice, and I took a deep breath. My heart was racing, but it was nothing compared to the stress of facing the person I had no idea how to talk to anymore.

During class, I made sure to keep my eyes firmly locked on the professor. Not once did I glance in his direction. I was playing it safe, even if it meant completely zoning out of the lesson. I told myself that my strategy was sound-that was, until the professor decided to call on me for an answer.

"North, what do you think?"

Why me?

In that moment, I could feel Johan's eyes-I was sure of it-burning into the side of my skull. I gave the most generic response I could muster, something along the lines of, "Uh, yeah, I agree with what was said...," before my face betrayed me and turned beet-red. A few snickers from the class followed, but I was too focused on my inner panic to notice.

After class, I darted out of the room, but not before hearing Johan's voice calling out from behind me.

"North! Hey, wait up!"

The tone was casual, like he wasn't aware of the mental gymnastics I'd been putting myself through all morning. But I was not prepared for a conversation right now, not when my emotions were like a blender on full speed. So, without missing a beat, I pulled the most classic move: I pretended I didn't hear him.

I just kept walking, eyes locked straight ahead, as if there was a meeting in the distance that was far more important than whatever awkward thing he was about to say.

But as I walked away, I realized something-every time I avoided him, every time I ran from the situation, it felt like I was hiding from something I needed to face. What was the point of all these evasions? Sure, they kept me from feeling exposed for the moment, but they didn't fix anything.

Still, in that very second, I had no idea how to handle the emotional minefield I'd found myself in.