I Was Sick Of Second Place So I Took Everything Chapter 12

I Was Sick Of Second Place So I Took Everything Chapter 12

It wasn’t until I got to college that I realized just how brutal things could be.

Many students here was outstanding. The world of overachievers really was ruthless.

Which meant I had to figure out how to keep standing out among a group like this.

One day, some downtime rolled around, and Silas asked me to grab a meal at the school cafeteria.

“Why do you look so wiped out? Are you sick?”

“Does an existential crisis count?” I answered casually.

He thought a moment and said, “That depends.”

I said quietly, “I can’t outwork everyone here…”

Silas raised an eyebrow. “Ah. Old habits die hard.”

I shot him a glare.

“Estelle, you’re in college now. Life isn’t just about grades anymore.

“Think about the kind of life you actually want-then work backward from there.”

Before I could pin down a goal, romance came knocking first.

Dating was a hassle. So I passed. Didn’t want it cramping my style.

College life was busy. Classes, group projects, certifications, clubs, competitions.

It wasn’t about going solo anymore. Teamwork mattered.

And if I wanted to keep up my effortlessly composed image, I had no choice but to keep working hard.

During a break, Silas and I planned to head home together.

On the train, we sat side by side-I had the window.

At some point, my eyelids got heavy, so I closed my eyes for a bit.

When I opened my eyes, I’d been leaning on his shoulder.

“Awake? What were you doing last night, robbing a bank?” he teased.

I sat up straight. “I stayed up late gaming with my roommates.”

Silas let out an incredulous laugh.

“So I taught you that game, and now I can’t even get you to queue with me? You’re off carrying your

roommates instead?”

I felt a little guilty. “Playing with you isn’t satisfying.”

you ‘Estelle, you’re a legend’?”

Before I could respond, he added, “If you really like hearing praise, I can say a few things.

“You’re that desperate for teammates?”

“Yes.” He answered so firmly that I actually felt a bit bad.

Then he added, “My roommates suck. They’re dead weight.”

Had he never been beaten up by his roommates?

Freshman year passed in a blur, but my vanity still drove me to clinch first in overall rankings. Won awards in competitions. Got every certification I could.

By sophomore year, my roommates had all started dating.

They said life was long, and even if some things weren’t essential, they were worth experiencing.

So, but of curiosity, I asked them, “How do you know if someone is… kissable?”

Three top students fell into silence.

After a while, they finally said, “When you meet that person, you’ll know.”

Not helpful at all.

That year, on New Year’s Eve-Silas took me up to his rooftop again for sparklers.

The bright sparks lit up his face. His sharp brows, straight nose, and then… his lips.

He had a defined cupid’s bow, and his lower lip was a bit fuller, a little softer. They looked… really kissable.

“Can I kiss you?” The words came out before I could stop them.

“What?” He was clearly stunned. The sparkler in his hand burned

put.

I stepped closer, my eyes fixed on his lips. “I want to kiss you.”

ep back.

ward again, closing the distance until his back hit the wall and he had nowhere left to retreat.

dn’t push me away. Which meant yes.

I rose onto my toes and brushed my lips against his-just barely. Soft.

I lowered my eyes, lips shifting a little. Didn’t really feel anything.

So I leaned in again and kissed him once more.