"We'll start our actual lesson next meeting. And with that, nice meeting you all again. Dismissed," the professor said before walking out of the room.
Just like that, our last period, which was supposed to be an hour and a half long, ended an hour early.
As I slipped my notebook into my bag, the chatter around me grew louder.
"The club fair's already started," someone in front of me said excitedly.
"Yeah, I heard they're giving out freebies at some booths," another classmate added.
I paused for a moment, my fingers lingering on the zipper of my bag.
A club fair, huh? Should I check it out?
I never really participated in extracurricular activities in high school, so maybe now is a good time to start.
Just as I was about to ask where it was being held, the people in front of me stood up, already making their way toward the door.
As I reached the first floor, I spotted the bulletin board near the entrance. A small crowd had gathered around it, scanning the various posters pinned to the surface.
I stepped closer, eyes darting over the different announcements until I found what I was looking for. It says that the location is the University PE Center stadium.
I stared at the location for a moment. The stadium? That's a bit far from here.
Good thing I had printed a campus map before classes started, I didn't want to risk wandering around like a lost child on my first day. I reached into my bag and pulled out the folded paper, smoothing it out against my palm. The stadium was on the far end of the campus, a decent walk from my building.
I debated for a second. Do I really want to go?
I had never been the type to join clubs in high school. I'd always kept to myself, sticking to classwork and heading straight home afterward. But college was supposed to be different, right? Wasn't that why I told myself I'd try to make at least one real friend?
It's fine. I'll just check it out.
Stuffing the map back into my bag, I popped a lollipop into my mouth and started walking.
I adjusted the strap of my bag, scanning the various tents lined up across the stadium grounds. Each one was adorned with banners, flyers, and enthusiastic club members calling out to passing students. The atmosphere was lively, a mix of chatter, upbeat music, and the occasional cheer from a particularly spirited group.
Then, not far from where I was, I spotted someone familiar.
Ken.
He was standing in front of a booth, he's with the same guy he had been eating with earlier during lunch.
For a moment, I just watched him. He hadn't noticed me yet, but the second our eyes met, his expression shifted. His brows twitched slightly, and then—without missing a beat—he subtly but very clearly signaled for me to leave.
I blinked.
Did he just... dismiss me?
I clicked my tongue, shaking my head with a quiet snicker. Seriously? I wasn't even planning on talking to him.
Brushing off the mild sting of rejection... not that I cared, I shifted my focus back to the club booths and continued walking, my lollipop idly resting between my lips.
Just as I was about to walk past, the guy Ken was with stepped in front of me, holding out a piece of paper.
His voice was flat, devoid of enthusiasm, like he was reciting a line he'd been forced to say all day. His expression matched—bored, detached, as if he had better things to do but was stuck here anyway.
I blinked, momentarily thrown off by his monotone delivery, before taking the flyer from his hand. My eyes skimmed over the bold letters at the top.
Flying Feet Taekwondo Club.
What kind of name is that?
My lips parted slightly. Taekwondo?
Oh, right. Ken does play taekwondo. I almost forgot.
I glanced up at the guy again. He looked like he had been dragged here against his will, his disinterest practically radiating off him. From the corner of my eye, I caught Ken glaring at me, as if silently telling me to move along.
I was actually interested in taekwondo when I was younger, but that was it. I never pursued it, and honestly, I wasn't exactly athletic. So, yeah. It's a no.
I opened my mouth to decline only to be cut off when a group of girls suddenly appeared, hovering around them, their excited chatter filling the space between us.
I stared at them for a second before shrugging and continuing on my way. Not my problem.
Or so I thought.
I had barely taken a few steps when—
"Hey! You there!"
I stopped mid-step, blinking in confusion as two guys in blue uniforms rushed toward me, their expressions oddly desperate.
Before I could react, one of them clapped his hands together in a pleading gesture. "We need one more member to meet the club quota, and sign-ups close soon!"
"Please," the other chimed in, equally frantic. "Just put your name down. No commitment, I swear!"
I opened my mouth, ready to say no but then, the both of of them went to each of my side grabbing me by both arms.
Not in a threatening way. Not even aggressively. They just straight-up lifted me.
I couldn't even say anything at first. I was too shocked. My brain short-circuited as my feet dangled helplessly above the ground. They were carrying me like I weighed nothing.
"Wait... what... PUT ME DOWN!" I finally yelped, flailing in protest.
"Just a little further!" one of them said cheerfully, as if they weren't actively committing a mild form of kidnapping.
By the time my feet touched solid ground again, I was already trapped in another corner of the stadium, nodding along as the club manager enthusiastically explained their activities.
I didn't even sign up for anything.
"And of course," the manager continued, his tone taking on a more serious edge, "just because you wrote your names down doesn't mean you're officially part of the club yet. Judo isn't easy."
Judo? What the fudge. Judo?! Seriously? How did I end up here?!
"You'll need to go through a one-week tryout first," he went on, completely oblivious to my inner panic. "If you pass, you'll be accepted automatically. Got it?"
"Yes!" everyone answered in unison.
Including me.
Wait. Why am I responding?
I didn't even write my name.
As the club manager dismissed us, the other recruits eagerly turned to each other, chatting about practice schedules and training expectations.
I took a slow breath, gathering my courage before approaching the club manager.
"Uh, hi," I started hesitantly.
He turned to me with an easy, almost too-friendly smile. "Yup? Do you have any more questions?"
"Yeah, actually... I didn't sign up for this. I—"
"Oh! No problem," he interrupted cheerfully. "Here, just write your name down on this one instead."
Before I could even react, he handed me a new sign-up sheet.
I stared at it, dumbfounded.
That was the opposite of what I was trying to say.
"But I don't think I'm fit for this," I admitted, my voice tinged with uncertainty. "I mean, I've never done judo before, and I—"
The manager grinned. "You're already here, might as well see if you've got a hidden talent!"
Before I could respond, a girl suddenly appeared beside me, cutting into the conversation without hesitation.
"Hey, is it true that this club has a lot of good-looking guys?"
The manager chuckled, puffing out his chest. "Of course! And that includes me."
She let out a short laugh before her face went completely deadpan again. "You're funny. Anyway, is it true?" she repeated, ignoring his joke entirely.
I stifled a laugh and looked down to hide my smile before looking up.
He sighed dramatically. "Yes, but you can't join just because the members are good-looking."
"Don't worry," she said, flipping her hair with confidence. "I've been practicing Taekwondo since I was little. I want to try judo this time," the woman said before taking a form from the manager and started filling it up.
Well. I guess, there's no harm in trying. Who knows? I might actually have a talent for this.
As we walked out of the clubroom, the girl turned to me with a knowing smirk.
"So, did you also sign up because of the handsome guys?"
"Ahh, no," I said awkwardly, scratching my cheek. "I was just... kidnapped into this club, I guess."
She raised an eyebrow. "Kidnapped? What do you mean?"
"Well, I was just checking out the tents when two guys literally picked me up and carried me here. Next thing I knew, I was already sitting down, getting recruited," I explained, still baffled by the whole situation.
She threw her head back and burst out laughing, then playfully smacked my back. Ouch. That actually kind of hurt.
"You're funny! What's your name again?" she asked, grinning.
"Nika. Nika Santos," I replied.
"Nice to meet you, Nika. How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
"What course are you taking?"
"I.T.," I answered.
Her eyes lit up. "Really? Me too! I'm Angel Castro, by the way. I'm eighteen."
She tilted her head slightly, looking curious. "Did you attend our classes today? I don't think I saw you."
I nodded.
"What did you guys do?" she asked, her curiosity evident.
"Just a short introduction. The professors said our real lessons start next meeting," I told her.
"Figured. That's why I didn't bother attending class today." She grinned, completely unapologetic. "Let's check our schedules. It would be nice knowing I have a classmate I actually know."
She pulled out her assessment form, and I did the same. We compared our subjects one by one, tracing our fingers down the paper.
My eyes widened slightly. "Wait... we have the same schedule for everything?"
Angel blinked, then let out an excited gasp. "No way! Same subjects, same time, same room?" She clapped her hands together. "Well, looks like you're stuck with me, Nika."
I opened my mouth, unsure how to respond, but nothing came out. Stuck with her? What was I supposed to say to that?
Before I could figure it out, she continued, "Alright, let's exchange numbers. I'll text you if I decide to skip class again, so you can take notes for me."
I blinked. Was she... serious? Or was this just her sense of humor? Was I supposed to laugh? Agree? Object?
I just stood there, gripping my phone, my brain scrambling for the correct social response.
Angel, seemingly unfazed by my silence, just grinned and held out her phone. "Niks, don't leave me hanging."
Snapping out of it, I quickly took her phone, typing in my number before handing it back. She did the same with mine, completely unaware of the mini internal crisis I had just gone through.
As I tucked my phone back into my pocket, a small realization settled in. Just like that, I had actually accomplished something I hadn’t done in a long time.
I finally had other contacts on my phone aside from family and Ken. Not that it had ever bothered me before, but… it felt nice. Having someone casually ask for my number, like it was the most normal thing in the world... it was new.
Maybe I wasn’t as closed off as I used to be.
Looking back, I fully expected to fail the judo tryouts. I figured I'd trip over my own feet, maybe accidentally body-slam myself, and walk away with nothing but bruised dignity.
Angel, on the other hand, had been dead set on joining… until she realized the handsome seniors she was eyeing had already graduated. Without hesitation, she bailed and joined the journalism club instead... where, according to her, the best perk was interviewing good-looking people.
Somehow, I got in too. Not because I had any passion for reporting, but because Angel knew someone in the club, and I happened to be good at photo editing, something I never thought would actually be useful.
And just like that, my college life took a turn I never saw coming.
Now, as an 18-year-old second-year, things weren’t as unfamiliar. I knew the campus, had a routine, and, most surprisingly, I had more than one friend.
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