Chapter 4: Fresh Starts and Familiar Faces

**Three.**

After that, I lost contact with the Harvard upperclassman.

Even though it was just a fleeting online romance,

when I started college and passed by the gates of Harvard,

I couldn't help but stop and stare.

My friend Ethan asked what was up.

Seeing the regret and longing in my eyes, I sighed, "Once, I almost went to Harvard."

"..."

He was speechless and dragged me toward the library.

"Honestly, every MIT student says that when they pass by here. Come on, or there won't be any seats left in the library."

Me: "..."

So real and refreshingly honest—what a humblebrag.

Sure enough, when we got to the library, there were no seats left.

Ethan groaned:

"Are these people robots? They got into MIT and they're still this competitive?"

Every seat was taken. There were a few left in the group study area, but after hearing all sorts of languages and accents, we decided the "quiet study" area was more precious.

"Hey, I see a seat over there!" Ethan patted me excitedly, then rushed over to negotiate with someone.

A few seconds later, he waved at me.

"Alex, come here, there's a seat!"

I walked over and caught their conversation:

"No need to be polite. Are you freshmen?"

"Yes," Ethan grinned, sounding delighted.

Across from him sat a delicate-looking girl. I quietly sat down and noticed the seat across from me was empty but had books on it.

"You should call me 'senior.' I'm a few years ahead of you—I'm a grad student now."

"Wow, really? Couldn't tell—impressive."

While I was wondering if someone else was coming, Ethan had already added her on Instagram.

After we all sat down, the area went quiet again. I lowered my head to read.

After a while, I felt the light dim in front of me and caught a pleasant scent. A slender figure pulled out the chair across from me and sat down.

Then came a hushed conversation:

"Did your advisor call you in again?"

"Mm, there was an error in some data. I had to recalculate."

The first voice was the girl who gave us the seat. The second voice was unfamiliar, but especially pleasant.

I glanced up and saw a pretty girl with glasses sitting across from me—long, straight dark hair, fair skin, thick lashes, and especially beautiful eyes, like something out of a graphic novel.

She seemed to sense my gaze and looked up. The moment our eyes met, I saw her face clearly—so beautiful it took my breath away.

But this graphic-novel girl just glanced at me coolly. Then, when she saw the engineering textbook in front of me, a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes.

She asked, "Polymer Materials? That your thing?"

Huh? She actually spoke to me.

I nodded.

I studied science in high school, and thanks to the 'HarvardReject' upperclassman, my grades were always good. So after getting into MIT, I chose this major directly.

Maybe it was my imagination, but the girl across from me smiled slightly. "Not bad."

I was puzzled, and the senior next to her kindly added, "What a coincidence, we're in the same major."

Wow, what a coincidence—a direct senior!

"Hello, senior," I greeted politely.

The girl across from me just said, "Mm," her attitude even colder.

"Don't mind her. Our Mo is always like this," the other senior said.

I smiled and didn't take it to heart.

I tried to relax, fidgeting with my mechanical pencil and glancing out at the green campus quads framed by sunlit windows. Somewhere, someone’s phone buzzed with a Red Sox score, and the faint smell of cold brew coffee drifted from a nearby table. The nervousness from a moment ago faded as the gentle hum of air conditioning and the muted shuffling of textbooks grounded me. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have these two as mentors, and for a split second, that old pang of hope flickered: maybe, just maybe, things were about to get interesting at MIT.