No Broken-hearted girl (Crushing Hard Series Book 2)

Dear Diary :15/02/2013

Thursday

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, and honestly, I was bracing myself for the emotional rollercoaster. But hey, I made it through without tears or wine-soaked regret, so that’s progress. Gone are the days of high school drama with Valentine assemblies, dances, and everyone pretending they were starring in a rom-com. Back then, I was never the girl showered in roses or serenaded with love songs—more like the perpetual background character, waiting for a grand romantic gesture that never came. Now, at Varsity College, nobody gives a damn about Valentine’s Day. The only love affair anyone here cares about is the one between them and a bottle of tequila.

It’s still O Week, and honestly, the official excuse of "helping first-years settle in" is just a cover for the seniors to get us wasted in as many creative ways as possible. Let me fill you in on the past week:

Monday

On Monday, we did the whole tour of the campus. Spoiler alert: it’s tiny. My high school was bigger. But what this campus lacks in size, it makes up for in...well, fashion sense. I have never seen so many people dressed like they’re heading to a Vogue photoshoot. The guys, in particular, look like they stepped right out of a GQ magazine. Back in high school, you were lucky if a guy knew how to wear jeans that actually fit. Here? It’s like a runway for Gucci models.

The guy leading the tour? Whew. He was a whole problem. I couldn’t quite figure out his ethnicity, but his skin was this gorgeous chocolate brown, and his hair looked too soft to be anything but magical. Those hazel eyes? I swear they glowed. I was checking him out all day like a creepy stalker, and when he caught me, he smirked. SMIRKED. I mean, okay, I wasn’t ready to dive back into the dating pool just yet, but damn, he made it hard to stay focused.

Speaking of which, I am officially done mourning Scott James. That boy? Trash. Absolute trash. I wasted way too much time trying to make something out of nothing, and he just kept feeding me lies. So now, I’m reclaiming my life. If anyone should be sad, it’s him. I gave him chance after chance, but I’m done. Time to focus on me, right? New beginnings, new me.

Tuesday

So, Tuesday was uShaka Marine day, and let me tell you, it was a blast! I met this super fun girl, Che, and we instantly clicked. She could drink almost as much as me, which, you know, is an impressive skill. We were inseparable all day, hitting every slide and ride we could find. I was low-key bummed to find out she was heading to a different campus, but whatever—we still bonded over our shared love of making fun of boys in ridiculously short beach shorts.

After a while, I decided to give my heart a rest after tackling the adrenaline-pumping slides. Che and I opted to float on the Lazy River instead. It’s basically a giant pool where you can float on a tube, letting the current take you on a slow tour around an aquarium and a fake pirate ship. I was in a near-coma of relaxation when my tube bumped into someone else's.

“Oof, watch it!” The angry voice snapped.

Okay, rude. I lifted my head slowly—keeping my Ray-Bans perfectly in place, obviously. The guy I bumped into was drifting away from a group of his bros, all in those obnoxiously bright, ultra-short swim trunks and backwards caps. Back home, guys at least wore proper baggy board shorts, but apparently, this place had its own questionable fashion sense.

Now, this guy though—wow. He was rocking salmon-colored trunks that fit him like a second skin (I'm talking dangerously perfect), paired with a yellow cap sitting backward over thick, dark curls. A silver chain caught the sun, glinting just enough to make me stare a little too long. And don’t even get me started on the rest—five o’clock shadow on a jawline that could literally cut glass, lean build, abs for days. Basically, he was a walking thirst trap, and I hated it. I found myself unable to look away. He wore dark Ray-Bans and a scowl that somehow only heightened his allure, adding an intriguing edge to his already captivating presence.