Zero Chance at Love (bxb)

Casper's POV

"Let me see if I understand this correctly. You've agreed to tutor the son of your mom's friend because you think he's going to be a big deal in our department?" Samson asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

I met Samson when I first moved into this apartment. Standing at 6'1", he has dark hair and brown eyes, and he's African American. We struck up a friendship at a party, although I can't exactly remember how we became friends or why we stayed friends, especially since he's a year ahead of me in university.

Samson and I are quite different. Let me explain. I believe people generally fall into two categories: social butterflies, who effortlessly make friends, and those who rely on social butterflies to connect with others. Samson belongs to the first group, while I identify more with the second.

Now, don't misunderstand me—I'm not an introvert. I make friends, but I often tend to connect with the friends of those friends rather than initiating new relationships myself. I hope that makes sense.

"Yes, that's exactly what's happening," I replied, scrolling through Netflix as I searched for my next binge-worthy series.

"You're really something else. Honestly, I doubt you have what it takes to tutor anyone. Hell, you probably need tutoring yourself," he said, getting more comfortable in his chair.

"Did you just call me dumb?" I asked, shocked.

"Yeah, I did," he replied, his tone far too casual for my taste.

"I'm not dumb. Just wait until I tutor this guy and he declares me the best. Then I'll make sure to rub it in your face," I declared, standing up and heading to the kitchen to prepare a snack.

"Make something for me too!" he shouted, even though I was only a few steps ahead of him. I shot him the middle finger in response.

I quickly microwaved the leftover popcorn and grabbed a soda. With my snacks ready, I was all set for a binge-watching session.

"I thought you were going to cook?" Samson chimed in.

"Yeah, I am cooked popcorn. Now, be quiet; I don't want your annoying voice in the background while I watch this series," I said as I settled comfortably onto the sofa. I opened my laptop, searched for the series I had seen on my phone, and pressed play.

One of the reasons we remained friends was our ability to be so open with each other. Even though he was older in age and in university, we would throw insults at one another one moment and share a laugh the next.

After about forty-five minutes, my phone rang. It was my mom.

"Hello?"

"Are you forgetting something?" she asked with a sigh.

"No? Why?"

"You were supposed to update me about my friend's son," she said, her voice tinged with expectation.

"Oh, right. He hasn't responded to my text since yesterday. Are you sure he knows about the tutoring arrangement?" I inquired, wondering why he was taking so long to reply. Did he change his mind about needing a tutor?

"Yes, he does know. Why don't you just call him? He might have missed your message," she suggested.

"Alright," I responded, yet as she hummed and ended the call, I immediately dropped my phone on the sofa.

I had no intention of calling him. After all, he was the one who needed the tutorials, and I had already reached out. Why should I take the initiative to call? Perhaps he was simply busy and would reply soon.

With that thought, I returned to my series, stealing a glance at Samson, who was fast asleep with his phone resting on his lap.

There's no denying that Samson is handsome. He turns heads wherever he goes, with girls and guys alike captivated by his charm. His neatly styled braids, tall stature, and rich brown skin all contribute to his striking appearance.

And no, I do not have feelings for him, nor have I ever had a crush on him. I can admit when someone is attractive, but I would never admit that to him directly. He has no idea that I'm bisexual; my flirtations have only been with girls. After....him, I had never developed feelings for any guy.

A deep frown crossed my face as thoughts of him crept in. I quickly pushed those memories away; I didn't want to dwell on the past, especially since it had been a year already.

I focused back on my series, letting the plot, tension, and characters temporarily distract me from those unwelcome thoughts.

The sounds of grunting, whispered conversations, and the rustling of luggage jolted me from my sleep. Samson had returned to his room two hours earlier, leaving me to drift off before I could finish my series. As the noises persisted outside my door, I groaned, realizing it seemed like someone was moving in.

I glanced at the clock—9:25 PM. Who relocates at this hour? When Milo mentioned that my new neighbor wasn't exactly a saint, I sincerely hoped he didn't mean annoying.

Rising from the sofa, I made my way to the door and cracked it open just enough to peek outside. A redhead was approaching the door next to mine, his face adorned with freckles that added a certain charm. He struggled with a large bag of clothes and was panting heavily by the time he reached my door.

He startled slightly upon noticing me. "Uh, hi. Did I wake you?" he asked in a soft voice.

"A bit, yeah. Why didn't you just move in tomorrow? It's pretty late," I replied.

He let out a sigh. "It's a long story. Just a few things left to unpack. I apologize for the disturbance; we'll be done in no time."

"Do you need help?" I offered, hoping he would decline. I wanted to be polite since we'd be neighbors, but all I really wanted was to return to bed.

"No, it's alright. I'm not alone; my friend is here to help. Thanks anyway," he said, adjusting the glasses perched on his nose. I nodded and stepped back inside, relieved to retreat to my peaceful sanctuary.

I carried my laptop into my room and plugged in the charger. Then, I opened my 'bedtime' playlist on my phone and pressed play. Soft, soothing music filled the air at a gentle volume as I gathered the duvet to my side, arranged my pillows, and settled down. The melodies wrapped around me, guiding me gently into slumber, though I lost track of when I actually fell asleep.

«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»

A sudden, heavy knocking jolted me awake. I climbed out of bed and walked to the door, unlocking it. Darla looked up from her phone and greeted me with a feigned smile. "Morning, sunshine." I instantly closed the door in her face.

Still groggy, I made my way to the living room and collapsed onto the sofa, stretching out comfortably.

Darla entered, chuckling as she shut the door behind her. "Did I wake sleeping beauty?"

"Yes, you did," I replied flatly.

She rolled her eyes. "I couldn't make it yesterday because of Aria, so I'm here to discuss our project topic." With that, she flopped down beside me.

"How's Aria? Is she alright?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, she just caught a cold."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Did you know someone moved into the room next door?" she asked me.

"Yeah, he moved in really late last night and made a lot of noise while unpacking," I told her. It seemed like he must have been up late, given all the noise.

"I had no idea the room was available; otherwise, I would have moved in there," she said, which piqued my interest.

"Really? Why?"

"I need a little distance from Aria; my feelings are becoming overwhelming," She said with a faint smile that barely concealed her pain. I could see the hurt behind her eyes.

"I'll let you know as soon as another room opens up," I said, breaking the silence. After a moment, I added, "I really wish the person she likes would start dating someone else. That might help her move on and give you a chance." I hoped to lighten the mood a bit.

She looked up at me, letting out a sad chuckle. "I don't see that happening anytime soon," she replied.

Why was love so complicated? You could have deep feelings for someone who may never return them. You end up watching that person fall for someone else while someone else might be interested in you, yet you can't force yourself to reciprocate those feelings. Love was a perilous game, and I wasn't interested in playing.

After everything that happened with him, I had chosen to shut myself off from love. It was simply too risky.

"Don't look so glum. I'm the one who's hurting here, not you. Anyway, go freshen up; you could use it," she said, attempting to shift the conversation and lighten the atmosphere. I decided to play along.

"What do you mean I stink? I—" My phone rang, interrupting me. The screen displayed "tutor guy," the student I was supposed to help. I answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Good morning! It's the person you texted about the tutorial," a voice greeted me. His tone sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Good morning," I replied.

"I apologize for not responding sooner; I've been quite busy. If you're available, we could meet today," he suggested. I was certain I recognized his voice from somewhere.

"That sounds good. I'm free today. When do you want to meet?"

"Are you familiar with the café near the uptown villa?" he inquired.

That location was very close to my apartment. "Yes, it's just around the corner from where I live."

"Great! How about we meet in two hours? Does that work for you?"

"Absolutely, see you then." "Okay," he confirmed, and we ended the call.

"Who was that?" Darla asked, reminding me that she was still in the room.

"A guy my mom asked me to tutor," I answered.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You agreed? What's the deal? Is she paying you a lot? Are you planning to take me shopping with it?"

I chuckled. "Hold on! She isn't paying me anything. Did you see the group chat? I think a popular guy is transferring to our department, and I believe this is him."

"So what? I still don't understand why you'd agree if it's not for the money," she said, looking puzzled.

"Since he's popular, I figured I could be friends with him. Together, we would make a popular duo, attending parties and having a great time. I really need a party buddy, especially now that Milo has moved out," I explained.

"You're out of your mind," she replied, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Samson said the same thing yesterday."

"Well, I'm glad I'm not the only sensible friend you have."

"You two are the only annoying friends I've got," I said as I headed to my room to freshen up.

After thirty minutes, I was ready. Darla had made breakfast, which I quickly devoured. I decided to leave five minutes early to meet him.

As I opened the door, I bumped into the freckled guy coming out of the other door. He looked at me and smiled. "Good morning."

There was something about his voice that clicked. "Are you the person I'm supposed to tutor?" I asked.

"You're Casper?" he replied, surprised.

"Yeah, that explains why your voice sounded familiar."

"I thought the same thing. Instead of going to the café, why don't we just sit and talk inside? I'm a bit tired from unpacking, if that works for you." He gestured toward his room. "My friend is in there," he added.

I nodded and followed him inside. A part of me wondered if he was really the person everyone had been discussing in the class group chat. He didn't seem to match that personality. Or perhaps I was simply judging a book by its cover.

Once inside, he closed the door. "I don't actually live here; my friend does. I just helped him unpack and stayed over for the night."

I suspected as much, I didn't judge the book by its-

"Rex," he called out.

"Rex? No, it can't be. It can't possibly be the Rex I know. Rex is such a popular name; everyone goes by it these days.

"Rex," he called out again, while I tried to steady my racing heart. Calm down, I reminded myself. This can't really be him. It's-

I halted my thoughts abruptly when Rex emerged, shirtless and carefree, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as if trying to focus on the world around him. He was the same Rex I had desperately tried to forget, the one I hadn't seen in nearly a year. The very same Rex who I saw giving a handjob to my so-called 'friend.'

He was also the Rex I had a crush on back in high school.