A hush fell over the training field as a jaw-dropping figure appeared at the entrance. Picture this: crystal-clear blue eyes, a face so perfect it could've been sculpted by Michelangelo, and a vibe so icy she might've just stepped out of a freezer—or a fairy tale. Sophia Winters, Westfield University's reigning queen bee, had arrived. Every head turned. The guys gaped. The girls sighed, muttering, "Okay, she's why I'm questioning my life choices."
Even the people who knew her—upperclassmen who'd glimpsed her strutting through campus like a goddess—were floored. Sophia was the school's untouchable legend: senior, track star, and so aloof she made Antarctica look chatty. She didn't do pep rallies, didn't do small talk, didn't do people. So why the hell was she here, crashing freshman military training like some VIP delivery service?
Sophia paused at the edge of the field, scanning the sweaty herd of newbies. Then, clutching a bottle of Fiji Water—because of course she'd pick the bougiest brand—she zeroed in on Ethan Black's class and started walking.
The crowd lost it. "Is she… delivering water?" Jake whispered, clutching his chest like he'd seen a unicorn. "Mom, I'm in love."
"Dude, that's Sophia Winters," a snarky girl nearby snapped, rolling her eyes. "The Ice Queen. Senior year, untouchable. Student council prez tried to ask her out—shot down. Tech bro who sold an app for millions? Ghosted. Trust-fund frat boys? She wouldn't even give 'em her Wi-Fi password. You clowns don't stand a chance."
The guys gulped. This chick was a fortress—and apparently, Ethan's class was her next conquest. Hearts pounded as she drew closer, her heels clicking like a countdown to doom. Brad Harrison, who'd been soaking up the spotlight with Tiffany's water delivery, suddenly looked like a kid with a participation trophy. Compared to Sophia, Tiffany was a blurry Polaroid next to a 4K masterpiece. Brad didn't even have the energy to be mad—he was too busy drooling.
Sophia stopped in front of Ethan's group, her presence sucking the air out of the scene. Everyone leaned in, ears perked, waiting for her to speak. She cleared her throat, cheeks faintly pink—a crack in her icy armor—and said, "Uh… is Ethan Black here?"
Boom. The words hit like a nuke. The entire class spun to stare at Ethan, eyes wide, jaws on the ground. Sophia Winters was looking for Ethan? The freshman nobody who'd been here, what, five days?
Brad's Aquafina bottle slipped from his hand and hit the dirt with a pathetic thud. "What the actual—" he croaked, his smug face melting into a cartoonish gape. Tiffany crossed her arms, fuming. "Who's she, Brad? I thought I was your water girl!"
"Babe, I swear, I don't even—" Brad floundered, his alpha cred evaporating faster than a puddle in the sun.
Ethan, meanwhile, was just as lost. "Me?" he squeaked, pointing at himself like he'd won a raffle he didn't enter. He'd never met Sophia. Didn't even know her last name until five minutes ago. What was this, some prank show?
Before he could process, Sophia stepped forward, holding out the Fiji Water like it was a peace offering. "Military training's brutal," she said, her voice cool but oddly soft. "You're probably thirsty. Here."
The bottle landed in Ethan's shaky hands, and the crowd collectively lost their minds. The Ice Queen—the girl who'd turned down millionaires—was playing personal hydration assistant to a freshman? The drill sergeants, grizzled vets who'd seen it all, exchanged looks. "Kid's got game," one muttered. "Never seen a senior that hot play water boy before."
Jake elbowed Ethan, grinning like a maniac. "Bro, did you hire her off Craigslist or something? What's your secret—blackmail? Hypnosis? Teach me!"
"I didn't do anything!" Ethan hissed, clutching the bottle like it might explode. Then it clicked. The game. That damn Campus Queen Water Delivery Service for $0.10. First time, it was Sophia with a tray. Now, she was back, solo, with fancy water? This wasn't a coincidence—it was a pattern.
As the class buzzed—half jealous, half convinced Ethan was a secret billionaire—his phone vibrated. He snuck a glance:
[Purchase Confirmed: Campus Queen Water Delivery Service – Repeat Order]
[Next Suggested Item: Private Yacht, $0.75]
[Warning: Reality bends further with every buy. Careful, kid.]
Ethan's stomach dropped. "Repeat order?" he muttered. He hadn't even clicked anything this time! Was the game… auto-playing now?
Sophia lingered a moment, her sharp eyes locking onto his. "You're welcome," she said, then added, quieter, "Don't push your luck." She turned and strode off, leaving Ethan with a bottle of overpriced water and a sinking feeling that this was only the beginning.
Brad finally found his voice, pointing at Ethan like a prosecutor. "You rigged this, didn't you? What's your deal, Black? Sugar daddy? Mob ties?"
"Chill, Brad," Ethan shot back, forcing a grin. "Maybe I'm just that charming."
"Yeah, right," Tiffany scoffed. "He's probably catfishing her with AI pics."
The crowd laughed, but Ethan barely heard them. His mind was racing. Sophia knew his name. She'd warned him. And the game was moving on its own. This wasn't just about flexing wealth anymore—it was getting weird. And maybe dangerous.