Chapter 12: The Campus Princess Strikes Back (and Immediately Regrets It)

Orm had reached her limit.

She'd tried everything.

Avoiding Lingling? Didn't work.

Running away? Only made things worse.

Ignoring her feelings? An absolute, spectacular failure.

And the worst part?

Lingling was still winning.

Every time Orm panicked, Lingling remained the epitome of cool. Every time Orm tried to hide, Lingling managed to find her anyway. Every time Orm attempted to seize control of the situation, Lingling swooped in and effortlessly took it back.

No more.

She was Orm—the Campus Princess.

Charming.

Powerful.

Supposedly untouchable.

And it was high time to remind Lingling of that.

Orm slammed her hands on the café table, startling Becky and May into a synchronized jump. "That's it," she declared, her voice ringing with determination.

Becky raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-concerned. "Uh... what's it?"

Orm narrowed her eyes and leaned back, crossing her arms with newfound confidence. "She thinks she can play with me? She thinks she can control the pace? Well, guess what—I'm done running. I'm taking control now."

Becky and May exchanged a look—a mix of amused anticipation and a silent warning that Orm was about to do something both brilliant and disastrously impulsive.

"Oh no," Becky muttered. "She's making that 'I'm about to ruin my own life' face."

May sighed dramatically. "Watch and learn, ladies. This is going to be epic."

Orm smirked. And so began her plan to stop avoiding Lingling—instead, to confront her head-on. If Lingling wanted to play, Orm would play. If Lingling wanted to act cool, Orm would turn up the heat. And if Lingling thought she could control everything, well... not for long.

First Encounter: The Locker

Lingling was calmly gathering her books from her locker when suddenly—there was Orm, leaning against the door like a classic drama protagonist. With a smirk and a voice as smooth as velvet, Orm said, "You're hard to find, Counselor."

Lingling barely reacted. She shut her locker, glanced at Orm, and replied, "Am I?"

Orm's eyes narrowed. "Or are you just avoiding me?"

Lingling's expression remained unreadable. "I'm not the one who was running last week," she said coolly.

Orm froze for a beat, then recovered with a weak smile. "That was a strategic retreat," she offered, though it was clear even to her that this was a desperate excuse.

Lingling offered no further comment. First attempt: a bust.

Second Encounter: The Library

Determined, Orm next strolled into the campus library. She casually dropped into the chair next to Lingling and leaned in with a flirtatious tone, "Studying hard? Or hardly studying?"

Without looking up from her book, Lingling replied, "Unlike some people, I don't need distractions." She turned a page with the nonchalance of reciting a contract clause.

Orm sat up straighter. That was supposed to be her moment—her chance to be the distraction! Instead, Lingling's cool indifference left her feeling deflated. Second attempt: another failure.

Third Encounter: The Bump and Catch

Not ready to surrender, Orm orchestrated a "chance" encounter in the bustling campus hallway. Purposefully bumping into Lingling, she dramatically caught her wrist. "Careful, Counselor," she purred, "I'd hate to charge you with stealing my heart."

Lingling stared at her, then deadpanned, "That's not how legal charges work."

Orm's carefully laid plan imploded. Third failure—and with every move, Lingling remained utterly unflustered.

Then came the ultimate twist. Lingling began countering Orm's advances in a series of reversals.

The Smirk War:

Orm tried to corner Lingling in conversation. Lingling merely tilted her head and then—for the first time—smirked. "Oh? So you do want my attention?" That unexpected smirk sent Orm's heart into a frantic spin.

The Close Proximity Game:

Orm leaned in too close during another encounter, hoping physical closeness might force a reaction. Instead of pulling away, Lingling leaned in even closer. Orm panicked, feeling trapped in her own web of miscalculation.

The Ultimate Backfire:

Orm's final desperate move was to make a bold declaration. "So, tell me," she said confidently, "do you always leave girls speechless, or am I just special?"

Lingling tilted her head, her eyes dark and unreadable. Then, in a voice so calm it sent a chill down Orm's spine, she replied, "You're special. But you already knew that."

That response was the final blow. Orm's heart pounded, her mind went blank. In a desperate bid to salvage some dignity, she turned away hastily. "Well, uh, this was fun—" she mumbled, stumbling toward retreat.

But Lingling wasn't done. She fixed Orm with an unwavering, steady stare and, in a soft, barely audible whisper, asked, "Are you done playing?"

Orm's breath caught. Her fingers twitched, her pulse skyrocketed—and then, unable to take it anymore, she turned and ran.

She had never lost so spectacularly, so utterly, so embarrassingly in her life.

Orm woke up like a woman who had lost everything. Not that she'd actually lost her wallet or her keys—no, it was something far more catastrophic: she'd lost her control. She stared at the ceiling, motionless and expressionless, as if her face were permanently fixed in a grimace. Her mind? Blank. Her soul? MIA. And her will to live? Apparently, it was pending review by the Campus Princess Grievance Committee.

Because, as fate would have it, Lingling had won.

Orm had walked straight into her own trap. She'd thought she was in control—she'd even convinced herself she could throw Lingling off balance, that she had the upper hand.

Instead, Lingling had played her like a game of chess and Orm had been nothing more than an unsuspecting pawn. And now? Now, she had to face the consequences of a battle she never really realized she was in.

A loud, insistent knock on her door shattered the eerie silence of her room.

"Orm, get up!" May's voice called from the other side, filled with the usual mix of concern and exasperation.

Nothing.

Another knock, more insistent this time: "You can't stay in there forever."

Still nothing.

Then came the sound of the door unlocking, followed by a dramatic announcement, "She's not responding," from Becky.

"I told you we should've brought breakfast," May added with a hint of mock reproach.

"Okay, but hear me out—this is funnier," Becky retorted as she pushed the door open.

Both of them stepped into Orm's room and took one look at her. What they saw was a masterpiece of morning misery: Orm, sprawled on her bed, face buried in a pillow so intensely that even her hair seemed to droop in defeat. And then, like a perfectly timed punchline, Becky and May burst into uncontrollable laughter.

May pointed at Orm, laughing, "Oh my god, she looks like she saw the face of God—and it was Lingling!"

Becky wiped away a fake tear of mirth. "You love to see it, don't you?" she teased.

Orm groaned, burying her face deeper into the pillow. "Go away," she mumbled.

"Wow, she speaks!" Becky declared triumphantly.

May nodded, smirking. "But at what cost?"

Orm lifted her head just enough to shoot them a withering glare. "I hate both of you."

"Oh, sweetheart," Becky cooed sweetly as she sat on the edge of the bed, "you hate yourself even more right now."

May crossed her arms and said, "So, wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Good, because we're talking about it anyway."

Orm groaned again and rolled onto her side. "It's over. I lost. She won. She's never flustered, never thrown off her game. She just—she just let me think I had control and then DESTROYED me in one sentence."

Becky grinned, barely able to contain herself. "And what was that sentence, Orm?"

Orm clenched her jaw and, with strained resignation, spat out, "Are you done playing?"

Silence reigned for a painfully long moment—and then Becky and May erupted into laughter again.

Becky clapped like a proud spectator at a grand performance. "She's SO GOOD AT THIS."

May wiped away an actual tear, exclaiming, "Oh, Orm. Oh, sweetie. This is beautiful. You're done. You're absolutely done."

Orm flopped back onto her bed and released the loudest, most exhausted sigh imaginable. Today was going to be a long day.

And so it began. Orm spent the entire day in a state of absolute paranoia.

She was convinced that Lingling would appear at any moment, lurking in every shadow of the campus, waiting to deliver another perfectly calculated barb.

At any corner, in any room, at any place where she'd least expect it—Lingling would be there.

But as the day dragged on, no sudden run-ins occurred. No smirks from across crowded corridors. No passive-aggressive legal metaphors. Nothing. And that, as if by cruel cosmic design, was even worse. The absence of Lingling's presence tormented Orm more than any overt confrontation. It was like walking on a tightrope, waiting for the inevitable fall that never came.

Finally, at lunch, Orm couldn't take it anymore. Becky and May were happily eating their meals, clearly aware of Orm's suffering.

"Where is she?" Orm muttered between bites, anxiety lining her voice.

Becky raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

Orm shot her a look that said everything. "You KNOW who."

May shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. Maybe she's busy."

Becky smirked. "Or maybe... she's making you wait."

Orm froze mid-bite. Slowly, she set her fork down, as if time itself had slowed. "You think she's doing this on purpose?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Becky leaned in conspiratorially and gave her a knowing look. "Sweetheart, that woman operates like a seasoned lawyer. She knows exactly what she's doing."

May sipped her drink slowly. "And right now? She's letting you suffer."

Orm slumped in her seat. This was psychological warfare of the highest order, and unfortunately for Orm, the entire campus had caught wind of the madness.

It wasn't long before whispers began circulating in the corridors after the infamous confession. As Orm walked past groups of chattering students, snippets of conversation reached her ears:

"Did you hear that? I'm telling you, there's something going on between Orm and Lingling..."

"Maybe the rumor is true—after that wild exchange, it's like they're secretly a couple!"

"I swear, when Orm ran like that, you could tell there was more than just friendly banter happening!"

The campus buzzed with scandal and speculation, each hushed voice adding fuel to the already roaring rumor mill. And all the while, Orm's heart pounded in her ears, feeling more exposed and humiliated with every whispered repetition.

Then, as if fate were not done with her yet, a professor stopped Orm before class. "So, Orm," the professor said casually, "given your... association with Lingling Kwong, I assume you'll be considering law school next?"

Orm choked on her own breath. Becky slammed her hands on the desk, trying not to laugh, while May shook with silent laughter. Orm, meanwhile, was ready to flee the country.

By the end of the day, Orm was utterly exhausted. Her reputation? Shattered. Her sanity? In pieces. Her ability to function? Severely compromised. All she wanted was to go home and hide under a pile of textbooks.

She left campus with her bag slung over her shoulder, her mind a fog of stress and humiliation—and then, in a twist of cruel fate, she saw her.

Lingling.

Standing right at the entrance to the Economics Faculty, as if waiting just for her.

Orm stopped dead in her tracks. Her heart seized up, her brain went into freeze mode.

Lingling looked at her—calm, unshaken, perfectly composed—and then, in a voice so soft and precise it sent chills down Orm's spine, she said, "Are you ready to talk now?"

Orm wasn't ready at all.