When I Left, He Found His Way Back-Chapter 31: Meeting Annabelle

Jessica’s POV

"I’m Annabelle," she stretched out her hand and I took it in a soft handshake.

"Is this seat taken?" she asked, nodding toward the empty chair beside me.

I shook my head, and Annabelle settled into the seat, her expensive dress rustling softly. My gaze wandered over her polished appearance - bright red hair cascaded down her back in effortless waves, framing her heart-shaped face.

Annabelle’s poise and style hinted at a privileged upbringing, yet her approachable demeanor put me at ease.

"You seem to be on everyone’s tongue. What did you do?" Her soft gaze rested on me, awaiting my response.

I shook my head, genuinely perplexed. "I have no idea."

She smiled softly and looked away. Her reaction hinted that she knew something, but she didn’t elaborate. I let it slide, assuming she couldn’t know much, being a freshman like myself.

As we sat in silence, she turned back to me. "I overheard whispers on my way here. Rumors say you’ve ruffled Celine’s feathers – and those of her crew." Her voice was low, but not enough to be called a whisper. "Apparently, she’s the department’s darling and Max’s fiancée."

My eyes widened, pieces falling into place. Celine’s reaction, the cold stares, and whispered conversations – it all made sense now.

"What’s the big deal about Celine?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

Annabelle leaned in, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. "Celine’s family wields considerable power in the country, and Maxwell’s family isn’t far behind." She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in.

The silence between us almost choked me before she continued, her voice laced with a hint of warning. "Max’s mom is the Dean of this school, and she’s particularly fond of Celine for her son." Annabelle’s gaze locked onto mine, her expression serious. "Now you know what you’ve gotten yourself into."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as the magnitude of my situation hit me. Celine wasn’t just any student; she was the dean’s future daughter-in-law. No wonder she exuded confidence and intimidation.

"But I haven’t done anything," I protested, only to falter under Annabelle’s raised eyebrow.

"You’ve caught Celine’s attention, and that’s never a good thing," Annabelle repeated, her gaze drifting outside the window as if recalling a painful memory.

Her eyes snapped back to mine, filled with a mix of understanding and caution. "Max treated you differently. I hope you understand."

The unspoken implication hung in the air: Max’s behavior had sparked Celine’s ire, and now I was caught in the crossfire.

"What do you mean, ’treated me differently’?" I asked.

I pondered Annabelle’s words, replaying my encounter with Max in my mind. We’d bumped into each other, chatted briefly, and he’d shown me around the school. It was a kindness anyone might offer to a stranger.

’That’s not treating me differently,’ I thought to myself. ’Anyone would do the same for someone new on campus. I mean, I would.’

I turned to Annabelle, seeking clarification. "What makes you think Max treated me differently? We just had a casual conversation and he showed me around."

Annabelle’s expression hinted at skepticism. "Casual conversations with Max are rare, especially with freshmen." She continued.

"Max doesn’t usually notice people outside his circle. But with you...it’s different. And that’s what Celine can’t stomach."

Lost in thought, I worried about the potential fallout. More drama, on top of the tension with Liam and Kristen and my adopted family, was a luxury I couldn’t afford.

Avoiding Max seemed like the easiest solution, but it would come at a cost. Skipping social events and clubs would hinder my academic progress and networking opportunities.

But would distancing myself from Max be enough to appease Celine and her crew? My head throbbed with anxiety.

"Settle down, everyone," the professor’s voice cut through the chatter, jolting me back to reality.

I hadn’t even noticed the professor’s arrival, too engrossed in my own thoughts. Annabelle’s words still lingered in my mind, a reminder of the complex web I’d unintentionally entangled myself in.

As the classroom fell silent, I took a deep breath and focused on the professor, hoping to shake off the unease that had settled within me.

"I’m Professor Thompson, and I’ll be your instructor for Jewelry Design Principles this semester."

Professor Thompson, a renowned jewelry designer with impeccable style, scanned the room.

"Today, we’ll explore the fundamentals of jewelry design, focusing on proportion, balance, and texture. After the lecture, your assignment will be to create a piece showcasing these elements."

As Professor Thompson distributed the assignment handouts, I felt a surge of excitement. This was exactly why I’d chosen the jewelry design department – to merge artistry with technical skill.

Annabelle leaned over and whispered, "I heard Professor Thompson has industry connections. Impressing him could open doors of opportunities."

I nodded to myself, a quiet smile spreading across my face. My family’s wealth and influence could have paved the way for an easy ride, but I was determined to forge my own path. I wanted to prove to myself that I could achieve greatness on my own merit.

Two hours flew by, and the lecture came to a close. As we took a few minutes break, I couldn’t help but think that this wasn’t the freshman orientation I had expected. The professors were intense, and the students seemed just as driven.

"This isn’t exactly Freshman Week, is it?" I turned to Annabelle, who was packing up her belongings. I only wanted to start a conversation. She seemed nice and it wouldn’t be bad to have someone as a buddy in school.

She raised an eyebrow. "I guess they’re throwing us straight into the deep end. No coddling here."

I nodded in agreement. The professors weren’t here to mess around, and neither were the students. It was time to sink or swim.

As we stepped out into the hallway, the hum of conversation and clinking of coffee cups filled the air. Students rushed to grab a snack or catch up with classmates before the next lecture.

"What’s the next class?" Annabelle asked, her eyes scanning the hallway.

"Jewelry Making Techniques with Professor Patel," I replied, consulting my schedule.

Annabelle’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. "Get ready to get your hands dirty."

I grinned, drawn to her infectious enthusiasm.

Unlike many from privileged backgrounds, Annabelle lacked the haughty air that often accompanied wealth. Her down-to-earth demeanor made her relatable, and I found myself appreciating her company.

As we headed to the workshop, I wondered if Annabelle’s humility was a rare trait among the affluent students here.

"Have you worked with jewelry before?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

Annabelle nodded. "A bit. My grandmother was a skilled artisan. She taught me the basics."

Her smile faltered for a moment, and I sensed a story behind her words. But before I could pry, we arrived at the workshop, and Professor Patel greeted us with a warm smile.

"Today, we’ll explore the fundamentals of metalworking. Let’s get creative!"

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