Zero Chance at Love (bxb)

Casper's POV

I let out a frustrated groan as I turned to my left. Shifting from my previous position, I lay flat on my stomach, snuggling deeper into the soft sheets. The sleep had been incredibly refreshing.

Brrr brrr!

Who calls someone at midnight? I pulled the covers tighter around me.

Brrr brrr!

"Fuck," I mutter, finally searching for my phone on the desk. I answered, "Hello—"

"Get your dumbass to class NOW! If I don't see you in the next five minutes, I'm going to kill you." The call ended abruptly. I glanced at the large clock on the wall and my heart sank—it was already 10:45 AM.

Panicking, I jumped out of bed, stumbling over the sheets I had just gathered. I dashed to the bathroom to take care of business before frantically selecting an outfit that I hoped would look presentable. After a quick change, I was finally ready to face the day.

In case you were curious about the caller, it was my high school friend, Darla. I certainly didn't want to piss her off, which is why I rushed to respond.

I hopped into my car and headed to school. Once I arrived, I hurried to class, just in time to see the professor entering. I quietly followed him inside and took a seat next to Darla.

As I glanced at the clock, it was 11:10 a.m. When I looked over at her, I noticed she was slowly using her thumb to mimic slicing her neck. In that instant, I understood the message loud and clear: I was in big trouble, she was going to kill me.

I turned my attention to the front of the classroom, trying to recall the reason she had wanted me to come early. Now, don't get me wrong—I'm not typically late to class, but I'm not always early either. It's about a 50/50 split for me.

Then it hit me; we had agreed to meet early to review our project topic before today's presentation. I realized I was truly in a mess.

"Good morning, class. I apologize for the delay. The five remaining groups were supposed to present today, but that will happen in the next class. I have a few things I'd like to teach today…" I zone out after that as I turned to Darla and flashed her a big smile.

In response, she shot me the middle finger, which made me chuckle. Yep, that's classic Darla.

I've known Darla since high school. We started as friends before joining a group we playfully labeled the "popular group." She remains my best friend to this day. With her beautiful black shoulder-length hair, she stands out, and I'm only a few inches taller than her at 5'9".

She's the first true friend I made in high school. While we had a group of friends, she stood out as my best friend. We confided in each other, sharing our secrets and supporting one another through thick and thin. She truly is my best friend, but don't be fooled—she's still crazy at times.

Together, we decided to attend the same university to study business administration. I still remember the excitement we felt when we both received our acceptance letters. We couldn't contain our joy and ended up FaceTiming our friends—Eric, Chloe, Liam, Ben, and Bia—screaming with delight.

So far, university life has been quite enjoyable. I secured an apartment close to campus, while Darla chose one directly across from mine. We convinced our parents to let us skip the university dorms, as we wanted to break free from the boarding school experience. The apartment has been a blast, and I've already made a number of friends—mostly party buddies.

"Why were you late?" Darla demanded, her arms crossed. She wore a white crop top, dark blue jeans, and sneakers, her hair cascading gently over her shoulders. With class now over, it was time for her to express her frustration.

"Come on, D, I—" I started, but paused as she shot me a fierce glare upon hearing the nickname I stubbornly gave her. She absolutely detests it, claiming it sounds like a shortened of Dick. While I knew she had a point, I couldn't help but enjoy teasing her.

"I'm sorry for sleeping in yesterday, Darla. However, let's focus on the positive side; the professor rescheduled our presentation. How about we meet at my house to go over it?" I suggested, hoping to lighten the mood.

"You're so lucky he decided to move it," she replied, shaking her head in disbelief. "But seriously, why did you oversleep? As far as I know, there wasn't any party last night."

"I got hooked on this incredible murder series. I intended to watch just eight episodes, but before I knew it, I had binge-watched all sixteen. Now, I'm completely exhausted," I groaned, resting my head on the table.

She chuckled as she stood up. "Well, we still have three more classes today, so you'll just have to tough it out."

I rose to my feet as well. "But my free will insists I can go home and skip classes."

"Sure, and then watch your free will betray you with—" she paused as her phone rang. "Hello?"

As she spoke, my attention drifted to a boy walking briskly alongside two others. Though I could only see his side profile, he looked strikingly familiar, but I couldn't recall his name or face completely.

"I have to go; Aria isn't feeling well," Darla said, pulling me back to the moment.

"You're skipping classes? Now that's what I call exercising your free will," I teased with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes as she walked away. "Just shut up. I'll stop by later!"

I shoke my head with a chuckle as I thought about Aria. She's Darla's friend, and they both live in the apartment across from mine. Aria is majoring in engineering, and she's not just smart; she's also sweet, cute, and beautiful. Darla has a special liking for her, one that goes beyond mere friendship.

Yes, Darla is a lesbian. She came out to me when we started university, and I was the only one who knew. To her, it wasn't a big deal, and she felt no need to hide it.

I completely understood where she was coming from. I had my own experience with coming out during senior high school as bisexual. However, I was still in the closet at that time—no one but Darla knew I had feelings for boys. It wasn't that I was scared; I had simply only been interested in one boy—just one.

"Hey Casper," Milo called out to me as he approached, struggling with a backpack and two large suitcases. I had decided to spend my day exercising my free will and was now at my apartment.

Milo, my next-door neighbor, is in his third year of university and brings a lot of fun wherever he goes. He attends every party imaginable and has a way of charming every girl who smiles at him. Despite his popularity, he has never engaged in a serious relationship during his time at university, earning him the title of "the fuckboy."

"The semester just started, and you're off for a vacation?" I asked, eyeing his luggage with curiosity.

"Nah, man. I'm moving," he replied with a laugh.

"Moving? To where?" I couldn't believe my ears. Who would fill the void of excitement in our apartment now? Milo is the mastermind behind most of our hangouts and parties, often footing the bill for drinks out of his own pocket. He truly is the life of the party.

"Do you know the apartment across Lone Way Street?" he asked. I nodded, and he continued, "That's where I'm moving. I've heard they host incredible house parties and there are plenty of girls." He finished with a confident grin, embodying the typical playboy image.

"So, you're leaving us? That's quite the betrayal," I teased, feigning heartbreak. Leaning in closer, I added with a playful smile, "Just remember to call me if you're ever in need of a threesome."

He leaned in, whispering mischievously, "Don't worry, my skills are more than competent for her," accompanied by a cheeky smirk that made me burst into laughter.

"Sure thing! Just don't forget to give me a call when the next party happens, alright?"

"Absolutely. But don't worry my replacement isn't exactly a saint. Anyway, catch you later!" He waved goodbye as he walked away.

I retreated to my room, a spacious and cozy sanctuary that included a bathroom, kitchen, living room, and a small spare room, complete with a balcony. This place was my safe haven.

Grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator, I took a refreshing gulp while scrolling through my phone. My curiosity piqued, I entered the class group chat to see what everyone was discussing.

"Anon 1: I believe he's transferring to our department. You know the professor is my uncle, he shared that information with me.

Anon 2: Hold on, are you bragging about your uncle being a professor, or are you actually talking about this guy?

Anon 3: It sounds like she's bragging to me.

Anon 4: Let's stay focused, everyone! He's transferring to our department, so let's discuss that!

Who is this person that has everyone this excited?

Anon 1: You're right. While I'm definitely proud to have a professor as my uncle, we should keep our attention on the topic at hand.

Anon 2: But why would he choose to transfer here?

Anon 5: Do you think it's because our girls are more attractive than those in the Law program?

Anon 6: He must be quite wealthy to switch from Law to Business Administration mid-semester.

Anon 1: Exactly! He's handsome, charming, affluent, intelligent, and apparently skilled in the bed.

Now I'm really intrigued about who this guy is. Is he very popular?

Anon 3: Wait, how do you know he's skilled in the bed?

Anon 1: My friend mentioned it. They hooked up a while back.

Anon 4: Could you share a picture of your friend? ISo we would know his type.

Anon 1: That's unnecessary; I'm his type. My friend and I have a similar look.

Anon 2: Then he must have questionable taste.

Anon 1: FUCK YOU, MADISON!"

I exited the groupchat, feeling a bit bewildered. The guy who is transferring clearly has a significant reputation, given the reactions he provoked. I can't help but wonder who he might be.

Just then, my phone buzzes, and I see it's my mom calling.

"Hey, Mom," I answer.

"Your voice sounds terrible. Do you really talk to girls with it?"

I groan, "Mom." She has a talent for teasing me, and despite my annoyance, I can't help but appreciate it.

She chuckles softly. "I called to see if you could tutor the son of a friend of mine. He's transferring to your department, and she's hoping you can help him with some lessons from last semester."

What a coincidence! Could he be the same person everyone in the group chat was buzzing about? If he's anything like they described, I would be thrilled to help him.

"Sure, Mom. Just text me his number. Does he know he'll have a tutor?" I ask.

"Yes, he's aware. I'll send you the details. I can't help but wonder why you agreed so quickly this time—no tantrums?"

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"With you, I'm not so sure…"

"Do you want me to tutor him or not, Mum?" I asked, rolling my eyes, although she couldn't see my expression.

"Alright, I'll send you his number. Bye," she replied, and then the call ended. A broad smile spread across my face as I imagined the endless possibilities that could arise from becoming friends with him.

Soon after, I received a text from my mum along with one from Darla. I opened my mum's message first and saw that she had sent the number I needed. I quickly saved it and sent him a message introducing myself and suggesting we meet up.

Next, I read Darla's message. She explained that she wouldn't be able to come by later because she wanted to take care of Aria. I couldn't help but smile at that; I knew how much Darla cared for Aria.

However, there was something Darla hadn't told Aria: her feelings for her. Darla was afraid that revealing her crush might jeopardize their friendship, especially since Aria had mentioned liking someone else.

I could sense the sadness in Darla's voice when she confided in me that Aria only viewed her as a friend. I understood that pain all too well; I had experienced a one-sided crush myself, though in my case, I wasn't even friends with the person I liked.