I closed the textbook with a thud after catching myself falling asleep for the third time. A quick glance at my wristwatch showed it was late. Or was it considered early since it was two a.m.? I should be in my dorm room sleeping, getting enough rest for my exam later today, but I was worried the hours I worked this semester had detracted from my focus in academics. So, there I was, burning the midnight oil, trying to grasp concepts and ensuring I understood as much as possible about Corporate Governance.

Final exams couldn’t be trifled with, after all.

To be fair, the scholarship I’d received from one of the largest financial institutions in the country did allow for errors. I would retain the scholarship if my cumulative GPA didn’t go below 3.40, but I was on a roll. My third year of college and I still had a perfect GPA. Nothing but an A on the Corporate Governance exam would satisfy me tomorrow.

At first, when I’d started college, I’d been afraid of what to expect, although I’d been a straight A student throughout my life. But this was college. It was supposed to be more challenging. I thought I would be more fulfilled by all my accolades but I wasn’t. I felt like I was going through the motions—going to class, working at the diner, and not much of anything else.

I used to take full pride in my academics. I’d studied hard to be able to get into this private university but sometimes, I thought I should have stayed in my small hometown. Academics wasn’t the challenge here. It was everything else going on at college that I never thought about before— the making friends and the going to parties and clubs.

I was flunking at college life outside of academics.

Thank God, I had two days away from work on Christmas Eve and Christmas day. I planned to travel back home where I was more comfortable, where people were friendlier, less pretentious and less judgmental about possessions. While the scholarship took care of my full tuition, room, and board, I had to work to buy clothes and food. This meant no name-brand items most trust fund kids walking around campus wore. Occasionally, I would go to the store and get something off the rack, but most often, I went to thrift stores. I usually waited on deals, especially out-of-season sales, to buy clothes. My winterwear had been bought from this past summer.

I wasn’t bothered much by my rather drab appearance, surrounded by a bevy of college girls who wore the latest designer outfits and toted handbags and shoes that cost more than my own car. Many of them were busy being too social and flunking college. Once I finished my studies, I had a job waiting for me at Citibank which had provided my scholarship. Then I’d be able to afford to pay for those superficial possessions.

If I wanted them.

Packing up my books, I decided, on a yawn, it was time to go to bed. Instead of replacing the book, I took it with me to the librarian’s desk and signed it out for a day. No harm in being cautious. I would scan through the content again in the morning. I should have enough time to do so since the exam was at one in the afternoon.

Thanking the librarian who knew me by name because of my frequent visits and checkouts, I pushed through the heavy soundproof doors. I walked down the wide steps and headed in the direction of my dorm. I was so tired my eyes were beginning to cross. I was practically walking asleep.

Taking the shortest route, I doubled around the Chemistry lab and took the right turn along the corridor.

Oof! My half-opened eyes widened in alertness at the solid wall I’d run into. I didn’t remember a wall there. The wall moved and caught my arms as I tripped over my own feet and would have fallen if hands hadn’t held tightly onto me.

The wall smelled of alcohol. I looked up with a frown and my belly almost dropped to the ground. My wall was Lucas Caine. The Lucas Caine. Knowing of him when I was one of the least aware of who people were—especially people like Lucas—said a whole lot. His father was renowned billionaire and real estate mogul, Gregory Caine, owner of a hotel chain and golf retreats in several states.

“I-I’m so sor-sorry.” I stumbled an apology for running into him.

Yet I didn’t move out of his arms. At over six feet, Lucas Caine was every bit the eye candy he was on campus. He wore his wavy black hair long, down to his shoulders and parted at one side, giving his tresses a wavy look I would have sworn he perfected by wielding a flat iron. But given the stench on him, he was coming from a party and his hair was still perfect. I’d never thought long hair beyond ear length was appropriate for a man, but on him, it made him look a little wild, unorthodox, and intriguing.

Captivated by his arresting blue eyes, I could feel rather than see his hot body. From time to time, I saw him jogging around campus, indicating he took pretty damn good care of himself. A girl could appreciate his efforts. The few times I’d seen him jogging without a shirt on, it was a wonder the campus wasn’t flooded by the drool. Mine included. I might be geeky by some people’s standards, but I wasn’t dead. Feeling Lucas’ hard legs pressed to mine right now reminded me just how alive I was.

“Do I know you?” he asked, peering into my face.

Disappointment coiled in my stomach. Do I know you? How about we were in the same Project Management lecture sessions? How about last summer when I worked at the library? I’d signed out a book for him while he blathered about how he had failed a course and couldn’t get to go to Cancun. How about serving him at least half a dozen times at the diner where I worked? A place he and his friends frequented.

At his question, I pulled away. What had I been thinking? Had I expected he would have noticed me on any of those occasions? Didn’t he and his friends refer to me as ‘hey, waiter girl,’ even though I wore a name tag at the diner? How could I have forgotten he was conceited and self-absorbed? How could he not be when he was one of them?

Loud chattering and laughter, hinged on slurs, reached my ears. I should have known. Wherever he was, at least half his posse went with him. He wasn’t just one of them. He was the leader of the pack. A pack I despised for personal reasons.

“No, you don’t,” I replied, my tone dripping scorn. I pulled myself away from him and, after a little reluctance on his part, he let go. I continued on my way, skittering around his friends.

“Who’s the creepy-looking chick?” one of them asked him and I resisted the urge to look back. I did slow down, though, to hear his response.

“She’s nobody.”

A lump formed in my throat and I ran the rest of the way. I stopped just outside the room I shared with another girl a year younger than me. I didn’t want to wake her since she was probably sleeping, so I stood outside and gulped deep breaths, waiting for my heart to stop racing and my blowing to cease.

So what if he thought I was nothing? Who cared anyway? Except that was how I felt sometimes. Like I was an insignificant speck, unnoticeable. Unimportant. Except for my father, who was proud of my achievements, who gave a hoot about my 4.0 GPA? Citibank? They had to, considering they spent their money on my education. I didn’t appreciate being bonded to the company for four years to pay back the fees they’d paid, but it had been one of the only options to get a tertiary education. Students loans were less appealing. The pro was when I graduated next year, I wouldn’t have to worry, like many graduates, about finding a job.

When my breathing was under control, I unlocked the door and slipped quietly inside. The room was ideal for one occupant but capitalizing on resources, two twin beds had been crammed into the small space. It was designed like a studio with a small kitchen and a bathroom.

I was at the brink of keeling over in exhaustion, so pushing Lucas from my mind, I toed off my tennis shoes and crawled into bed. His words reverberated in my mind just before I fell into a deep sleep. She’s nobody.