Classroom of the elite short Stories

Her own story

I was walking around the library, trying to find a quiet spot to study for the upcoming exams. The place was packed, with every table and chair seemingly taken. my eyes darted around, searching for an empty spot. The library was teeming with students, all engrossed in their textbooks and notes. The sounds of turning pages and hushed whispers filled the air, creating a chaotic symphony of study sounds.

Suddenly, my gaze landed on a solitary student, sitting in the corner, his eyes fixated on the open book before him.

I observed his expressionless face for a moment, captivated by the blank yet intense gaze he maintained. The way he held himself, shoulders relaxed, and the meticulous way he turned the pages, indicated his focused concentration. Despite the bustling library around us, he seemed to be in his own tranquil world, immune to the commotion. His presence there intrigued me, and I felt my curiosity rise, pulling me closer to the mystery of this enigmatic student.

As I observed him further, I wondered who he was Despite my initial apprehension, I was drawn to his intriguing aura, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was studying with such intense focus. Without realizing it, I stepped closer, and my voice broke the silence. "Excuse me," I began, my tone soft, "Is this seat taken?."

The student's eyes lifted from his book, meeting mine with a calm, almost apathetic gaze. His voice was monotonous when he spoke, "No, it's not." Without waiting for a response, he simply resumed his reading, leaving me to decide whether to take the seat or move on.

 His response was brief, lacking any warmth or acknowledgment. Ignoring the emptiness of his words, I hesitantly settled into the seat. Perhaps my presence would create an opportunity to unlock the secrets behind his mysterious aura.

I opened my books and notes, pretending to study, all the while stealing glances at him. There was a silent determination in his demeanor - the way he absorbed every word on the page, the way his hand moved across the book, his face a portrait of focus. But what intrigued me the most was the way his unchanging expression failed to reveal any hints of emotion.

As I continued glancing at him, I couldn't help but notice the thick leather-bound book he was holding. It looked nothing like the usual textbooks or notes I saw other students studying. I tried to sneak a peek at the title, and my eyes widened in surprise. It wasn't an exam prep book or any study material. He was reading classic literature!

I couldn't help but wonder why someone would read classic literature at a time like this, with exams just around the corner. Was he truly that confident about his studies? I shook my head, trying to make sense of the puzzle in front of me. His calm demeanor suddenly felt even more perplexing, as I continued to steal glances at him, the pages of his book silently turning.

As I continued to sneak glances at him, lost in my thoughts, I suddenly heard his voice break the silence between us. "You're holding your book upside down," he stated bluntly.

I snapped out of my reverie and sheepishly looked down at the book in my hand. Indeed, he was right. I had been inadvertently reading it upside down the entire time, too engrossed in puzzling over him to notice.

I felt a flush of embarrassment rise to my cheeks. How long had he known I had been holding the book wrong? I quickly flipped it over, feeling foolish for not having noticed sooner.

The corners of my lips lifted into a shy grin as I mumbled, "Thanks for pointing it out. I guess I was a bit distracted."

"Great," I muttered to myself, a hint of crimson staining my cheeks. "Of all the embarrassing things to do, you just had to hold your book upside down in front of a cool, mysterious guy. Way to make a good first impression."