Chapter 150
Chapter 150:
“Do you want to be my brother’s girlfriend?” Sloane asked, clearly excited.
Fernanda gave her a mildly exasperated look.
“No, I don’t,” she replied.
They’d only known each other for a few minutes, and Sloane was already trying to play matchmaker?
Even after Fernanda turned her down, Sloane didn’t let it bother her. She chuckled. “That’s fine if you’re not interested in him now. But once you get to know my brother and see how great he is, you might have a different opinion.”
Fernanda couldn’t help it. Her thoughts drifted to Cristian. He really was something else.
She shook her head forcefully, trying to push his image out of her thoughts.
Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?
The freshman orientation was a monotonous affair, steeped in formalities and speeches that felt as lifeless as recited textbook excerpts.
Fernanda’s eyes kept drifting toward Damian, seated prominently at the center of the leadership row. His navy-blue suit complemented his poised demeanor, radiating an aura of intellectual charm and warmth—a figure seemingly designed to inspire trust at first glance.
Yet, after the debacle with Mabel tampering with her entrance exam score, any respect Fernanda once held for Damian had long since evaporated.
The crunching of snacks punctuated the room’s silence around Fernanda. The culprit was Sloane, who seemed incapable of pausing her endless stream of nibbling.
A cookie bag gave way to a packet of chips, which was soon replaced by a bottle of yogurt. Sloane’s mouth was a perpetual motion machine of snacking.
Catching Fernanda’s sidelong glance, Sloane extended the bag of chips toward her. “These chips are my favorites.”
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Fernanda hesitated briefly but soon relented, taking a handful.
The inviting aroma and satisfying crunch proved too irresistible.
“This orientation feels like it’s going to drag forever,” Sloane murmured, leaning conspiratorially toward Fernanda. “How about we play a game to pass the time?”
Fernanda’s skeptical look prompted Sloane to add quickly, “We’ll use earphones. No one will notice. Look around—everyone’s doing their own thing.”
Fernanda scanned the room. Sure enough, students were engrossed in their phones, reading, or even fiddling with handheld consoles.
“I really misjudged these Esaham University freshmen,” Sloane muttered under her breath. “I thought they’d be the studious type, hanging on to every word of this boring nonsense. Turns out they’ve got some rebellion in them.”
Fernanda allowed herself a small smile. Those who earned a place at Esaham University were rarely stereotypical bookworms.
Academic success often hinged on innate talent. For some, learning came effortlessly, freeing them to explore hobbies, expand their perspectives, and gain deeper insights. Such individuals detested dull routines.
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