Undecided

The thumping bass vibrated through my chest, a familiar rhythm to the start of another semester. Brice, my self-proclaimed 'brother in crime,' had just abandoned me for a fresh batch of wide-eyed freshmen, leaving me to survey the hunting grounds.
It was initiation week, and the air buzzed with the eager naivety of newcomers. For us, it was always a successful week, a chance to refill our 'little black book' of contacts. Every semester, I'd purge my phone of the previous batch, ready for a new set of conquests.
My rules were simple, my criteria precise: cute, never beautiful; poor taste in clothing for easier 'puts out'; and absolutely no intelligence or intrigue. It was a formula that worked, keeping things casual, keeping things safe. I'd perfected the art of the fleeting encounter, cutting ties before any messy attachments could form.
Brice reappeared, a scowl on his face. "What happened?" I asked, already scanning the crowd for my next target. He just shook his head, muttering about 'a girl who's never had a boyfriend.' I scoffed, "Attachment guaranteed." He nodded, confirming our shared cynicism.
Then, my eyes landed on her. Twirling on the dance floor, she seemed to defy every single one of my carefully constructed rules. An anomaly. A danger. And just like that, the semester was already far from 'business as usual.'