Chapter 2
Just then, the door was pushed open, and Ezra walked in.
He glanced at us, then at the book in Clara's hands, and instantly understood what had happened.
Clara immediately put on her most pitiful look and hurried over to him.
"Ezra, Hazel keeps insisting she booked this book first and wants me to hand it over right away..." Clara said.
But she didn't even get to finish.
Ezra was already standing right in front of me.
He didn't even look at Clara, just locked eyes with me, his voice low. "When's the open class?" he asked.
"Three PM," I muttered.
"You'll make it," he said.
With that, he pulled out a copy of the same reference book from his backpack and placed it gently in my arms.
The pages were brand new, still carrying the scent of fresh ink.
"I had someone bring it over from abroad. It's the newest edition, with more notes," he said.
I was completely stunned.
He glanced at me and added, "Don't let this mess distract you. Just focus on your class."
Then he turned to Clara, his expression turning icy.
"Clara, when did I ever say I was coming to your place to pick up the book?" he asked coldly.
Clara's face went ghostly pale in an instant.
During the open class, I kept spacing out, hugging that fresh new book to my chest.
I wondered what Ezra was really up to.
Over the weekend, the school held a basketball game, and Ezra was the star player.
I bought a case of water and headed to the basketball court.
When I arrived, Clara was already there.
She wore a beautiful white dress, standing out in the crowd.
She didn't bring any water. Instead, she had a little first aid kit with her.
At halftime, Ezra was taken off the court.
I was just about to pass the water over.
But Clara took the lead and ran over with a towel and a bottle of energy drink.
"Ezra, are you tired? Here, drink some energy drink to recharge," she said.
As she spoke, she helped wipe the sweat from his face.
The girls around us started squealing with envy.
"Oh my god, Clara is so thoughtful!"
"She's the real deal. Hazel's just a joke."
I stood there, holding the case of water, caught in a dilemma.
Ezra was still catching his breath, sweat rolling down his jaw.
He glanced at the drink in Clara's hand, then looked over at me.
Then he pushed aside the towel Clara handed over.
He walked straight over to me.
He stopped right in front of me, bent down, and grabbed just an ordinary bottle of water from the case at my feet.
He twisted it open and downed it in one go.
The whole court went dead silent. All eyes were on us.
Clara stood there, the drink still frozen in her hand. Her expression was extremely funny.
Ezra finished his water, tossed the empty bottle back to me, his voice rough from the basketball game.
"What are you standing there for? The second half's about to end. Go grab a good spot and wait for me," he said.
Before I could even react, his teammates had already pulled him back onto the court.
I clutched the empty bottle, watching him run across the court. My heart skipped a beat for no reason.
When the game ended, Ezra's team won big.
He was surrounded by his crew, making their way through the crowd, and headed straight for me again.
"Let's go," he said.
"Where to?" I asked without thinking.
"Victory party," he said matter-of-factly. "Aren't you supposed to be courting me? How could you not be at my party?"
His crew started egging me on from behind.
"Yeah, Boss's girl, you gotta come with us!"
"Come on, Boss's girl! If you don't show up, Ezra will lose face!"
They half-pushed, half-dragged me along.
As we passed Clara, I saw her biting her lip hard, eyes red as she glared at me.
The victory party was at a KTV off-campus.
The air in the box was hazy with smoke, and the music was blasting.
Ezra's crew was all wasted, dragging me into drinking games.
I'm not much of a drinker. After a few rounds, my head was already spinning.
Ezra just sat in the corner, quietly watching us mess around.
Tyson Cole, the guy with the crew cut, came over with a glass, insisting on a toast with me.
"Hazel, Ezra won the game today. You gotta drink with us!" Tyson said.
I had no choice but to pick up my glass.
But before I could even touch it, Ezra reached out and stopped me.
His hand covered mine, the warmth making me jolt.
"She can't drink anymore," he said, his voice low but firm.
Tyson froze for a second, then let out a laugh.
"Boss is getting protective!" he teased.
Ezra ignored him, grabbed the glass from my hand, and downed it in one go.