One.

I glanced around the library as I sat at my usual table. The place was empty except for the librarian, her two student assistants, and me. Normally, I would bask in the calm quiet of the afternoon but not today. No, today was different.

Early on in the semester, I made a routine for myself which, for the past seven months, I stuck to religiously. Every morning, I woke up at eight, brushed my teeth, got dressed, and went to class. I'd have a few breaks in between and then after my last class ended, depending on which day of the week it is, I'd either go to the gym for volleyball training or to the library to study for a couple of hours.

Since today's Tuesday, I headed to the library. Everything had been going well until I took my seat and noticed the empty table across from me.

My head tilted the slightest bit to the side. How...unusual.

Shrugging, I took next week's readings from my bag and placed them neatly in front of me. I didn't have to go through it until, like, Friday but two years in university had taught me that it's better to do what I can now rather than cram everything later.

Mango sharpie in hand, I skimmed to where I last stopped reading and started from there. I got two and a half paragraphs in before I started tapping the sharpie against the wood, my leg bouncing under the table. Above me, the air conditioning unit hummed quietly.

I shifted in my seat. Was it always this quiet here?

It was when I've gone through the last half of my third paragraph for a whole ten minutes that I couldn't take it anymore. I sneaked a peek at the table in front of me.

Still empty.

My eyebrows furrowed together as I glanced at my phone to check the time. Eighteen minutes past four.

He's late…

I looked back at my phone. Nineteen minutes past four now.

He's never been this late before.

Not that I care, obviously. It's just that for as long as I can remember, he almost always got here earlier than me. He'd only arrived later than me a few times and even then, they were only for a couple of minutes. He had never missed a day before. Rain or shine, I knew that he'd be at his usual seat at the table across mine without fail.

And you know, when a person who sat in front of you twice a week for seven months suddenly didn't one afternoon, you're bound to notice his absence.

What I did not understand, however, is why it bothered me so much. He was a stranger after all.

I guess I just really liked my routine and this boy not showing was messing it up.

This is annoying.

Frowning even deeper, I pulled out my planner and spread it on top of the now yellow pages of my readings.

I inwardly flinched at the sorry state of this month's calendar. Almost every square was filled with scribbles of requirements, reports, and a few extracurricular activities.

At least finals week wasn't until next month.

Perhaps I can squeeze a night out before then if I finish all my requirements early. Goodness knows I'll need one after this month. Maybe I'll even buy a new dress—

All of a sudden, a loud thud resounded across the library. I looked up, startled.

Standing by his usual seat, right in my line of sight, was the boy who without even knowing it, had disrupted the smooth, color-coded, rose-scented schedule of my life. His eyes shifted from the pile of books he so ungracefully dropped on the table to me, embarrassment clear on his face.

"Sorry."

Now believe me when I say that in the seven months we've spent studying opposite each other, this was the first time he'd ever spoken to me. For seven months, I had unconsciously wondered what his voice sounded like and now, I finally heard it. Call me cliché or hopeless but I'd be lying if I said it didn't do weird things to my heart.

hi.