Chapter 3 — Project
Ava Thompson's life was already spinning out of control. Naturally, the universe decided today was perfect for chaos.
She sprinted across campus, backpack swinging wildly, papers threatening to escape. Today was group project day—a semester tradition designed to make introverts panic and extroverts thrive. Ava didn't care which category she fell under. She just wanted to survive without embarrassing herself… or anyone else.
Of course, fate had other plans.
When she arrived, slightly breathless and clutching her half-open bag, her heart sank. Her group had already been called to the front of the lecture hall. And there he was—Recee.
Sitting with perfect posture, calm, unreadable, notebook open in front of him. His dark eyes lifted as he saw her. For a moment, the world slowed.
Ava rolled her eyes at herself. Don't stare, Thompson. He's just… annoyingly perfect.
The professor clapped. "Group three, come forward. You'll present in two weeks. Creativity counts as much as research. I want a clear, interesting model—and teamwork."
Teamwork.
Ava groaned inwardly. She was paired with… Recee. And three others she barely knew.
"Great," she muttered.
Recee tilted his head, calm as ever. "You look thrilled."
"I am thrilled," she said, sarcasm dripping. "Absolutely thrilled to build something with people who think rules are optional."
"Rules are optional?"
"Yes," Ava said, smiling mischievously. "Especially when fun involves glitter, glue, and maybe a tiny fire hazard."
Recee's eyes darkened slightly. "Tiny fire hazard?"
"Okay, fine. No fire. But glitter is mandatory. Everyone loves glitter."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're impossible."
"And you're calm," she said brightly. "That's why we're perfect."
The topic: Design a Sustainable City Model. While most opened laptops or rulers, Ava pictured miniature parks, glittering skyscrapers, tiny roads with toy cars… and chaos.
Recee, methodical as ever, sketched neat zones with precise handwriting. Boring, logical, efficient.
Ava crouched on the floor, glue gun in hand, carefully balancing a miniature tree while glitter stuck to her fingers. "Wow… so boring," she muttered. "No glitter, no excitement, no disaster? I can't work like that."
"I think I can handle your chaos," he said slowly, never looking up from his sketches.
Ava laughed, tossing him a tiny foam block. "Try me, Mr. Calm-and-Collected. Let's see if you survive two weeks with me."
And survive they did—barely.
The next hour was a symphony of chaos. Ava glued her fingers together while laughing at Recee's annoyed expression. She tripped over a box of miniature trees, sending tiny pinecones flying. Recee caught falling cardboard like a surgeon, adjusting crooked skyscrapers with calm precision.
"You're lucky I don't scold you," he said, carefully straightening a skewed building.
"Lucky me?" Ava grinned. "I call it talent. A natural-born chaos creator."
Recee's lips twitched. "I've never met someone who can make a project both fascinating and terrifying."
"Good. You're supposed to be impressed, remember?"
He allowed a faint glimmer of amusement to flicker in his eyes. Ava noticed. Thrill ran up her spine. Don't blush, Thompson. Don't even think about it.
From the lab doorway, a familiar mischievous grin appeared—Ethan, Recee's best friend.
"Surviving the chaos?" he called, leaning casually against the frame. "Or just creating more?"
Ava groaned. "Ethan. Can't you let people work without commentary?"
He winked. "Where's the fun in that?"
Recee didn't react. He observed, calm and collected as ever. But Ava noticed a flicker of challenge in his eyes.
Mia, passing by on her way to the library, peeked in and waved. "Looks… glittery," she said with a grin.
"Thanks, dorm mate," Ava muttered, flinging a tiny pinecone her way. "Helping me or judging?"
"Both," Mia said, laughing softly. "Just like always."
Ava shot her a quick smile before turning back to the project, fingers sticky with glue.
Two hours into the chaos, Ava's ideas began to take shape. A miniature park with swings and slides, glittery rooftops catching imaginary sunlight, tiny roads snaking through model neighborhoods—chaos turned into art.
Recee, meanwhile, had methodically labeled zones: residential, commercial, green spaces. He moved quietly around the lab, adjusting her glue-smeared pieces, offering calm, precise suggestions. Ava noticed he didn't roll his eyes at her mistakes. He didn't complain. He adjusted. Corrected. Even suggested small improvements. Predictable in a way that made her reckless energy feel… safe.
She caught him glancing at her once, and she quickly looked away. Focus, Thompson. Glue the tree. Don't blush.
By mid-afternoon, the group had settled into an uneasy rhythm. Ava threw a glitter-coated foam block toward a small park, laughing when it bounced off a cardboard bench.
Recee caught it deftly, raising an eyebrow. "Intentional?"
"Always," Ava said proudly.
Ethan leaned closer, whispering loudly enough for Ava to hear, "She's going to destroy everything before she finishes."
Recee didn't respond, but a faint smirk betrayed his calm exterior.
Mia, still lurking by the doorway, shook her head. "You two are insane. But somehow… fun to watch."
"Exactly," Ava said, tossing glitter into the air. "Fun chaos! Artistic, educational, life lessons in glitter."
Two hours later, the group stepped back. The city model was imperfect, but alive: skewed skyscrapers glittered under the lab lights, crooked rivers sparkled, and tiny parks looked delightfully chaotic.
"Not bad," Recee said quietly.
"Not bad?!" Ava exclaimed, clutching her chest dramatically. "I nearly glued my fingers together, survived pinecones, and created a masterpiece of chaos, and you say 'not bad'?"
"I said potential," he replied, smirking faintly.
Ava huffed. "Fine. But don't think this makes us friends."
"I didn't think it would. But it does make me curious."
Ava froze. "Curious? About what?"
He said nothing. Just smiled faintly—the kind that made your stomach flip.
As Ava packed her glittery chaos, something slipped from Recee's notebook: a tiny folded paper. She didn't notice it yet.
From the doorway, Ethan's mischievous grin lingered. "Careful… that chaos might have consequences you haven't seen."
Ava, oblivious, zipped her backpack and rushed out, glitter clinging to her hair. Recee watched, notebook in hand, curiosity burning. This isn't over.
Mia waved quietly from across the hall, thinking, one day she'll see why some chaos is worth following…
And somewhere, amidst glue, glitter, and miniature skyscrapers, Ava realized—maybe two weeks with Recee wouldn't be as impossible as she thought.