Setting: A vast, air-conditioned lecture hall filled with row lines of civil engineering students and the rhythmic clacking of laptop keys, transitioning back to the busy campus corridors.
New Character:
Professor Santos: The department’s most feared instructor.
A veteran structural engineer with sharp eyes and zero tolerance for distraction, known for his signature wooden pointer cane and his habit of testing students on the spot.
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Seth: (Walks down the morning path toward the engineering wing with slow, completely uncoordinated steps, entirely oblivious to the hundreds of students rushing past my shoulders to beat the first bell. My hands are not buried inside my hoodie pockets today; instead, my right hand is holding my smartphone right in front of my face, my thumb hovering silently over the screen. I unlock the interface layout, my eyes locking instantly onto the single, brand-new entry resting in my address book: Cara Mina. Staring at her typed name beneath the bright morning sunlight, a sudden, familiar warmth hits my chest all over again, my cheeks flushing a soft, helpless pink color as I remember the exact weight of her fingers moving across my screen last night.)
Seth: (I slide the phone back into my pocket, looking up at the gravel driveway that loops around the western residential curve. Knowing that her education block dormitory is barely a hundred meters away from my own bedroom window completely scrambles my internal structure. For three full years, I have walked this exact concrete path entirely by myself, treating my college life like a rigid, independent equation where all parameters were completely fixed. But today, the entire campus layout looks completely different. Every time my eyes cross a terminal staircase or a tree-lined pathway, my mind automatically starts calculating the probability of her dress appearing in the distance, entirely magnifying my system with a brand-new kind of confusion.)
Seth: (I pull the phone out of my pocket once more, my fingers tightening around the casing as I look at the blinking cursor on the messaging layout. I haven’t sent a single text message yet, my logical brain completely paralyzed because I cannot compute the exact formula for a perfect morning greeting. I look down the pathway toward the engineering crossroads, a slow, quiet breath escaping my lips as I realize that while my hands are empty of her physical star piece, her contacts have permanently rewritten my code, leaving the lone wolf of civil engineering completely unable to focus on his own coordinates.
Seth: (Suddenly, a massive, uncoordinated weight crashes violently into my upper back, followed by a loud, synchronized roar of laughter that shatters the peaceful morning air right behind my ears. I nearly jump straight out of my sneakers in pure, absolute terror, my heart leaping straight into my throat as my logical brain completely short-circuits under the sudden ambush. With a frantic, lightning-fast jerk of my arm, I violently shove my smartphone deep inside my front jeans pocket, my knuckles clamping tight against the fabric as a blinding, furious crimson blush rushes straight up my neck under my hood.)
Lest: (Slaps his heavy arm around my slouched shoulders, a massive, incredibly triumphant grin completely taking over his face as his sharp eyes drill directly into my panicked expression.) “Aha! Caught you red-handed, lone wolf! Man, Rey, Jasper, look at his face! He’s literally a walking tomato right now! What were you staring at so intensely on that screen that made you jump like a startled cat?!”
Rey: (Saunters up on my left side, tossing a basketball lightly between his hands while leaning in closer with a highly suspicious look.) “Oh, I know that look. That is definitely not the face of a guy checking his fluid mechanics grade lines. Seth was totally smiling at his screen before we jumped him. He looked completely disorganized. Who’s the data entry, man? Spoil the data block!”
Jasper: (Chimes in from behind, playfully yanking on the strap of my laptop bag, his eyes instantly locking onto the sleek orange moon keychain swinging smoothly from my zipper tab.) “Wait, look at the moon keychain! It’s hooked up perfectly today. Yesterday Lest said you were completely blushing when you brought it back to the porch. And now you’re hiding your phone layout like it contains top-secret national blueprints? The data trends are pointing in one exact direction, boys. Our lone wolf has officially encountered an anomaly!”
Seth: (Clenches my teeth tightly together, pulling my hoodie cords down violently until only my nose is visible, desperately trying to keep my shaking hands hidden deep inside my pockets while my face burns a blazing, fierce pink under their combined assault.) “I wasn’t looking at anything, okay?! It was just an advanced script notification error from the laboratory system files! Shut up and walk faster, the professor is going to lock the lecture hall doors in five minutes!” (I lie frantically in a low, defensive growl, marching at double-speed down the concrete pathway in total chaos while the squad continues to laugh and hound my heels all the way to the faculty wing.)
Seth: (Sits stiffly at my usual wooden corner desk inside the massive, air-conditioned lecture hall ten minutes later, staring completely blankly at the massive whiteboard layout. The professor’s dry voice echoes across the room lines, explaining complex structural matrix equations and writing down columns of numbers, but my logical data lines are completely corrupted. My pencil rests totally still against my notebook template, having drawn absolutely zero calculation steps since the period bell rang. Every single time I try to focus on the vectors or analyze a structural stress layout, my mind immediately jumps back to the neon lights of the 7-Eleven at midnight, replaying the soft, gentle tone of her voice right behind my slouched shoulders.)
Seth: (I look down at my lap, my hand instinctively sliding down to rest against the heavy fabric of my jeans pocket where my phone feels incredibly heavy. Her words from the dark pathway—about the moon changing phases but always returning to complete the pattern—continue to scatter through my engineering thoughts, completely scrambling my ability to concentrate. Lest is sitting right next to me, typing animations aggressively into his laptop block, but I am entirely paralyzed in total confusion, realizing that for the first time in three full years, a girl named Cara Mina has rendered my independent computing system completely unable to solve a single classroom error.)
Professor Santos: (The lecture hall goes completely ice-cold as Professor Santos steps onto the wooden elevated stage lines. He is a tall, sharply dressed veteran structural engineer with perfectly combed grey hair, a severe jawline, and thick silver-rimmed glasses that make his critical gaze look like a laser scan. Known across the entire department as the absolute most feared instructor on campus, he has zero tolerance for lack of discipline or wandering minds. He slowly adjusts his crisp ironed collar, tapping his long, heavy polished wooden pointer cane against the floor layout with a rhythmic, intimidating click.) “Good morning, class. Open your layout modules to page forty-two. Today we are diving into indeterminate structure stress fields. If your mind is running a single millimeter off-axis today, I suggest you recalculate your priorities before my grading scale does it for you.”
Professor Santos: (Begins filling the green chalkboard layout with massive, highly intimidating rows of multi-variable matrix systems, his chalk snapping aggressively with every vector line. After thirty minutes of heavy lecturing, he suddenly stops writing mid-equation, his sharp chalk snapping loudly against the green surface. He turns around slowly, his critical gaze scanning past thirty rows of working students until his eyes lock directly onto my completely idle posture and blank expression. He frowns heavily, his silver-rimmed glasses catching the harsh ceiling lights as he taps his wooden cane against the floor layout.) “Mr. Phen. Since you appear to find the blank air columns more fascinating than the indeterminate beam structure framework today, why don’t you step up down to the board lines and solve the matrix transformation for us?” This chapter was copied from novelping . com without permission.
Lest: (Instantly turns his head to me, his eyes widening in complete panic as he frantically nudges my arm with his elbow beneath the desk.) “Dude, wake up! You’re completely toast! He caught you slacking… do you even know what chapter axis we are on right now?” (He whispers in a frantic, terrifying rush, trying to slip his own filled-out notes over my empty desk frame.)
Seth: (Blinks rapidly as my logical system does a forced hard reboot under the sudden high-pressure attention of the entire lecture hall. Every single pair of eyes in my block turns to look at my slouched shoulders, a heavy, expectant silence dropping over the rows. I ignore Lest’s notes completely, sliding my chair back with a soft scrape as I stand up. I pull my hoodie down just an inch to see the board lines clearly, marching down the steep concrete steps of the amphitheater with complete, mechanical calmness despite the wild hammering against my ribs.)
Seth: (Steps onto the elevated wooden platform, calmly taking the piece of white chalk from the professor’s extended hand without making eye contact. I stand face-to-face with the massive, incomplete multi-variable matrix structure. My mind is still entirely hazy from replaying her midnight greeting, but the moment the dry dust touches my calloused fingertips, my raw, deeply ingrained engineering parameters lock into absolute focus. My brain completely bypasses the temporary distraction, running through the structural algorithms like a high-speed processor.)
Seth: (Begins writing across the empty slate with swift, unhesitating strokes, my voice sounding flat, completely steady, and perfectly fluent as I explain the entire solution data block aloud to the silent room.) “By applying the boundary condition parameters along the fixed axis of node four, the secondary displacement variables drop down to zero. We then rearrange the stiffness matrix elements into an independent sub-grid pattern… which resolves the load trajectory line right here.” (I state smoothly, the chalk clicking rapidly against the board as I balance the multi-line formula layout within a single minute, dropping the final numerical answer neatly inside a perfect chalk box before handing the piece back to him with a quiet nod.)
Professor Santos: (Stares at the flawless, highly detailed calculation rows on the board, completely stunned into total silence as his critical expression crumbles. He clears his throat awkwardly, adjusting his glasses layout before offering a small, defeated nod.) “An… exceptionally accurate derivation, Mr. Phen. Fluent engineering logic. You may return to your seat block.”
Seth: (Marches right back up the concrete steps entirely solo, my face turning a soft pink color as I slide back into my corner seat. Lest is staring at me like I am a literal alien life form, his laptop screen completely ignored as he claps his hands silently beneath the desk rim.)
Lest: (Leans over, his jaw still hanging halfway open in pure, unfiltered awe.) “Dude… your mind was literally floating in space for forty minutes, and you just walked down there and executed a flawless algorithm loop like a robotic supercomputer. You are an absolute menace, Seth. Seriously, whoever is messing with your code is giving you insane processing power.” (He whispers in absolute disbelief as the final period bell rings loudly across the hall, drawing the intense classroom tension to a complete close.)
[ END OF CHAPTER 17 ]