London welcomed the afternoon with the same rain it had in the morning.
A few students grumbled.
Others were already used to an umbrella as a necessary attribute of the students of England.
The bell rang loud over the Blackthorn University.
It was a lunch break.
Within minutes, the previously calm halls transformed into a hub of activity.
Chatter filled the space as students dropped their backpacks in front of their lockers.
One shouted that the cafeteria had gotten new chocolate muffins.
Another raced to the cafeteria doors as if his life depended on it.
“…He’ll be disappointed.”
Sam said to himself while closing his book.
The student next to him turned his head.
“Hm?”
“They’re sold out.”
“…How do you know?”
“They always sell out before twelve-fifteen.”
Sam checked his phone.
12:16
“…You’re kidding.”
Thirty seconds later, the cafeteria was filled with the sound of dismay.
“They’re gone already?!”
The student turned his head to Sam.
“…That’s creepy.”
Sam merely shrugged.
“It happens every Tuesday.”
The cafeteria was more noisy than any other class Sam visited.
Students filled every single table.
Some were correcting notes.
Others weren’t.
Near the counter…
A tall blond student was having a hard time managing two trays.
“No…
no…
don’t-”
Too late.
One of them slipped, spilling french fries on the floor.
A few students made a path for him.
One groaned dramatically.
“Oh, brilliant.”
The blond student rubbed the back of his head.
“Five-second rule?”
“No.”
A girl nearby responded immediately.
“Definitely not.”
He sighed.
“Worth asking.”
Sam passed by them and, without a word, picked up the bottle of water that rolled under another table.
“You dropped this.”
“Oh!”
The blond student smiled.
“Thanks, mate.”
“No problem.”
“I’m Ethan.”
“Sam.”
“The psychology guy?”
“…Apparently.”
Ethan chuckled.
“You’re already famous.”
“I’d rather not be.”
“Too late.”
As Sam was about to reply, someone called out Ethan’s name.
A boy in a football jersey waved from across the cafeteria.
“Stop making friends without us!”
“I’m trying!”
“You’ve been trying since first year!”
The three of them arrived at Sam’s table.
The first one was the football jersey owner.
His messy brown hair and constant smile were impossible to miss.
“You must be Sam.”
He shook Sam’s hand right away.
“Oliver Reed.”But everyone calls me Ollie.”
Sam introduced himself.
“Nice to meet you.”
Ollie glanced at Ethan.
“You were right.”
“He really does look like he walked out of an expensive magazine.”
Ethan nodded in agreement.
“I was intimidated.”
“I still am.”
Sam blinked once.
“…Should I apologize?”
“No.”
Ollie chuckled.
“You should pay for our lunch.”
“I disagree.”
“So do I.”
For the first time that day, the conversation wasn’t about smarts.
Or psychological profiles and unexplainable observations.
It was about something…
normal.
“Mind if we sit?”
Ollie asked.
Sam stared at the nearly empty table.
“I don’t own it.”
“…I’ll take that as a yes.”
In a few minutes, the table had four trays in front of it.
The fourth one belonged to a girl with short auburn hair and round glasses.
She set the tray down gently.
“I swear if you embarrass me again, Ollie…”I make no promises.”
She sighed.
Then she looked at Sam.
“I’m Claire.”
“Claire Bennett.”
“Sorry about them.”
“They’re harmless.”
“I keep telling people that.”
Ollie pretended to be offended.
“I am deeply harmful.”
“No,”
Claire said.
“You’re deeply loud.”
Even Sam had to smile.
The conversation soon wandered off to random topics.
Favorite football teams.
The worst professors.
The absurd prices of the books at the university.
How the coffee there somehow managed to taste both burnt and watered-down at the same time.
“You know,”
Ollie said suddenly.
“I expected you to be different.”
Sam looked at him.
“Different how?”
“More…”
Ollie struggled to find the right word.
“…robotic.”
Ethan nodded.
“Same.”
Claire added,
“People are saying you’re some kind of genius.”
Sam took another sip of his coffee.
“They’re exaggerating.”
“You answered everything in class.”
“I answered one question.”
“You answered it too well.”
Sam allowed a small smile to appear on his lips.
“That’s a strange complaint.”
Before anyone could respond, a tray hit the floor, causing everyone to turn around.
A first-year student was left stunned as the food scattered on the floor.
His face was as red as a tomato.
Several students nearby chuckled at his misfortune.
Ollie sighed.
“…Poor guy.”
Sam stood up without a word and walked up to the first-year, crouching to collect the plates.
“It happens.”
The freshman looked genuinely embarrassed.
“I…
I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
The boy nodded gratefully.
By the time the cafeteria staff arrived, Sam and Ollie had already cleaned up the mess.
When Sam got back, Ollie was staring at him.
“What?”
“You really are weird.”
Claire elbowed him in the side.
“What he means,”
“…is that most people would’ve just watched.”
Sam sat back down on his chair.
“I was closer.”
Claire smiled.
“No.”
“I think you’d have done it anyway.”
Sam didn’t answer.
From the balcony on the second floor, someone had been observing the events below.
The man in the black coat didn’t watch Sam’s abilities.
He didn’t watch his deductive powers and psychological insights.
He was fascinated by something else.
Compassion.
He opened the small notebook at his belt and wrote one sentence.
“Subject Valecroft continues to choose intervention over recognition”
He closed the book and, satisfied with his work for the day, “…interesting.”
He disappeared into the sea of people before anyone could notice him.
Later that evening, as students left the building, Sam walked on the rain once more.
This time, however, he wasn’t alone for long.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
Not fast, not hesitant.
They matched his pace.
Sam didn’t turn around.
He simply said,
“You’ve been following me since the library.”
The footsteps stopped.
For three seconds, only the rain was heard.
Then, a voice, unfamiliar yet amused, replied,
“…How long have you known?”
Sam glanced at the place where the stranger would be if he stood there.
“Long enough.”
The stranger chuckled.
“…Good.
That saves us both some time.”
The rain got heavier.
And, somewhere underground, under London, a mechanism turned for the first time in years.
End of Chapter 4.
TO BE CONTINUED……..