It was late at night, and I was scrolling mindlessly through my phone because I had nothing to do. I had finished my homework a little after I came home and had dinner right after that.
My parents were both co-owners of a big textile company, and because of their work, they were rarely ever home, so I lived alone. It wasn't something I complained about; I loved solitude.
But prolonged solitude can turn into loneliness.
I slumped on my bed, feeling tired. I missed mom and dad, and they were never here. All my childhood, I had been taken care of by different caretakers that my parents hired for me. But now that I was 18, I didn't have that either. I was all alone. The only time I wasn't alone was when I was in school, which was the only reason I liked going.
All of a sudden, I heard my phone chime, breaking me free of my thoughts. It was a text message from Jenna.
Instead of replying, I called her. I needed to feel not alone at the time.
"Hey," I said when she picked up.
"Hi! Guess what?" She exclaimed. She sounded excited.
"What? Did something happen?"
"Remember that guy from my science class? The one I told you about?"
I could imagine her, sitting in her room and beaming at the thought of the guy while she was talking to me. Something must have happened, to make her this happy. "Did he finally ask you out?"
"Yes! Yes, he did!" she practically screamed.
"Okay okay calm down! Tell me the details," I let out.
For the next half hour, she kept talking about the guy whose name I couldn't even remember; and I kept listening, a small smile on my face because it made me happy to see how happy she was. And I didn't feel so alone anymore.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
"Hey, Amara," I heard a deep voice saying to my right, and startled, I looked up from the book I was reading.
I was in class, waiting for it to begin; and standing next to me was Nixon de Costa. I looked around. It wasn't late, and many other seats were available. Yet, he had chosen to come over here?
"You're sitting here again?" I asked in a slightly exasperated tone.
"Apparently," he mused.
"...why?"
"Because I want to?" he raised an eyebrow, his straight, black eyebrows making an arched shape.
"Shouldn't you be sitting somewhere over," I waved my arm in the general direction of where Nadija usually sits, "there?"
He looked up to where I had pointed, and a slight frown formed between his eyebrows. He had the same calculating look on his face, but this time, there was an undertone of anger too. I turned to look as well, and locked eyes with her.
Nadija.
She was looking directly at us.
I couldn't discern what she was thinking. Her expression was cold and blank. Her blonde hair looked almost orange in the morning sun; her hair looked like it was made of fire.
I felt a chill run down my spine.
I heard Nixon chuckle and turned back towards him. He was shaking his head at me. At that moment, I could see why so many people liked Nixon even after knowing about his reputation. He definitely had the looks, but there was also something captivating about him - something that made you want to get lost in him and never return.
"I want to sit here, Amara," he said, "with you."
My mouth went dry. I didn't know what to say.
But then I saw it. The slightest twitch of his smile, his eyes darting to Nadija and coming back to me so fast, anyone could've missed it, but not me. I realised he was only doing this to make Nadija jealous. She had noticed the fact that Nixon was choosing to spend another class sitting beside me, and she didn't like it.
Nadija's bad side was not somewhere I wanted to be, but saying 'no' to Nixon could mean trouble, too. I felt like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
"Just-" I stammered, "just do whatever you want. Don't bother me."
He grinned, and my breath faltered for just a moment before I pulled myself together and went back to my book.
Focus, Amara. He's nothing more than his looks. Don't get distracted.
He only spoke to me after class started, and that was to tell me that he had forgotten his textbook.
"Why did you forget it?" I exclaimed lowly.
"Hey! I didn't plan to do it," he pouted.
"Fine," I sighed, "you can share with me."
He grinned and started pushing his desk closer to mine, making a huge racket in the middle of the class.
The teacher, Mrs Harrison, called out to him, "could you hurry it up back there, Nixon? I don't know if you're aware, but I'm trying to take a class here."
Yeah, Mrs Harrison was one of those cool teachers.
"Sorry!" he grinned at her, and she just shook her head, continuing with what she was teaching.
"So," he grinned at me, speaking lowly. I noticed that he smiled a lot. I also realised that I had never noticed this before. "What are you doing tonight?"
"We are in the middle of class, Nixon. Can you focus on that please?"
"I was just asking, Amara, jeez," he retorted playfully.
I ignored him. Whenever he tried to talk to me throughout the class, I barely replied. When the class got over, I hastily packed my bag and pretty much ran out of the classroom.
Because Nadija Petrova kept glaring at me every chance she got, and she looked livid.
The next time I saw Nadija was after school, in the parking lot. On the other side of the lot was Ray Wilson, Nadija's boyfriend. His brown hair was fluttering in the wind, and his denim jacket was in his hands. He was talking with a few of his friends, laughing, but on closer inspection, I could see that his hands were in a tight fist below the jacket, and even though he smiled, his jaw was clenched, and there was a slight tic in his eye. He was trying very hard to hide it, but it was evident that he was angry.
It wasn't hard to see why; because on the other side of the parking lot, Nadija wasn't alone. She was wrapped up in Nixon's arms, his head buried in her neck.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
It was later that evening, while I was in the middle of watching a show on Netflix, that I got a text message.
'Hey', it said.
'Who's this?' I asked.
'It's Nix. You accidentally left your book with me. Meet me at the park near your house so I can return it.'