ARWAN
A smug smile spreads across my lips as I walk through the busy corridors of the college, an air of elation surrounding me. It goes beyond contentment; I'm practically brimming with satisfaction. I know I shouldn't be enjoying it so much, but I simply can't help myself. Seeing Emery's devastated expression last Friday was an absolute delight that kept me smiling all evening. It was deeply gratifying to see her face the consequences of her actions after all the time she spent targeting me.
This morning, I spotted her in the hallways, and I have to admit she looked completely miserable. So much so that a burst of pity almost tugged at my heartstrings—almost, but not quite. I have no remorse for her because she took it out on herself. She played with fire for far too long, and it was only a matter of time before it consumed her. If there's a hint of regret in me, it's mostly for Tyler. I really feel for that guy; he seems really pathetic. I had no idea he had become so attached to Emery, and it saddens me to witness his misery. However, I remind myself that I orchestrated this to spare him any further heartache.
He will come to appreciate what I've done for him in due course.
With Emery out of sight, I can now concentrate entirely on the basketball season and what it means to me. This is my last year at university, the last chance to prove myself on the court. Once it's over, I'll have the chance to test my skills at professional level, and I couldn't be more looking forward to that moment. I recognise my potential and acknowledge that I've come a long way. Yet, in this final season, my aim is to demonstrate that I am more than just 'good' or 'adequate'. I want to transcend those labels and become a truly exceptional player. It's a challenge I'm ready to take up with all my heart.
With this determined frame of mind, I head straight for the cafeteria, where I spot Jar and Zoya deep in conversation. Taking a moment to survey the surroundings, I notice Emery standing next to Tyler, engaged in what appears to be a heated exchange. Well, that's more like her talking while he listens quietly. I watch them for a few fleeting seconds, finding pleasure in the fact that it looks more like an argument than a reconciliation. Emery looks puzzled, and this realisation fills me with joy. I imagine her desperate for an explanation while Ty remains resolute in his silence.
"What's with the smile?" Zoya's question greets me as I approach her, and I can't help but feel my heart miss a beat. Taking a seat opposite her, my meal in hand, I place it on the table and turn my attention solely to her. Her eyes, my God. They're absolutely captivating.
"Nothing. I'm just really glad to see you," I reply, my voice filled with sincerity.
She rolls her eyes in response. "Yeah, right."
"No, really," I insist, a playful tone throwing off my words. "Missed me too?"
She bites her lip as she ponders my question. I know she's thinking about the same thing I am: last night. Our evening started out as a simple movie night, at least that's what we'd planned, but it quickly evolved into something more—a memory I can still feel on my skin. We've been spending time together for a week now and although we haven't explicitly discussed it, I sense that there's something more than simple attraction. And why shouldn't there be? Our friendship has lasted so long that sharing an intimate connection is far from trivial.
I've decided to tackle the situation head on, but I'm waiting for the right moment when it's just her and me.
"I feel like vomiting," interrupts my best friend, mimicking the movement as he shifts his gaze between Zoya and me. "You two are disgustingly cheesy.
"I thought you liked cheesy things," I tease him.
"Yeah, well, it's still hard for me to accept the fact that you two… slept together. Oh, my God. Just saying it out loud makes me want to throw up."
I roll my eyes and Zoya bursts out laughing, her musical notes echoing in the air. Starting my meal, I lean back in my chair and already think about Friday and what lies ahead.
"I can't believe we're going to have our first match already," I say, a touch of anticipation evident in my voice. "I've been waiting for this moment since the end of last season."
Zoya nods, a supportive smile gracing her lips. "And I'll be there, cheering you on from the sidelines. So you'd better give it your all."
Her words light a fire inside me, fuelling my determination to excel on the pitch. I appreciate her unwavering support, even though she's not a player herself and doesn't understand all the rules of the game. Having her presence in the stands means the world to me. Especially now that she and I are where we are. I think I appreciate her presence more and hope to find her in the grandstands cheering us on even more.
I glance over at Jared, who's keeping a low profile as we talk about our match. I know he's not in as much of a hurry as I am, given that he's likely to spend the season on the bench just as he did last year. Jar doesn't see a future in basketball, so it doesn't affect him as much as it could, but I know he's still disappointed. He'd especially like to be able to play, if only one last time. He doesn't really like talking about it either, so I decide not to dwell on the subject too much.
However, Zoya doesn't seem to think so when she nudges him to tease him. "What about you, Mr Benchwarmer? Ready to see them shine?
Jared, ever the self-mocker, feigns offence, crossing his arms and adopting a sarcastically serious expression. "Hey, someone's got to keep the bench warm and provide moral support, right? It's a crucial role, you know?"
Zoya laughs at his reply, clearly enjoying the banter. "Well, Jared, I expect you to be the loudest cheerleader in the whole gym. Can you handle that responsibility?"
"Oh, totally. You all aren't ready."
In this arrangement, we spend the rest of lunch engaged in lively conversation, discussing everything and nothing in particular. We delve into subjects such as our courses and upcoming exams. It also leaves me thinking about the challenges of balancing studies, basketball and work. I admit to feeling a certain level of stress, wanting to excel in all aspects of my life without compromising any of them. Although basketball remains my passion and my responsibility, my mother depends on the income from my work and I'm determined to get my degree and secure a better future for myself.
So I try to do my best.
As we say goodbye to Zoya and a few of our other mates, Jared and I head off together to our next class, our hunger-fuelled discussion focusing on the teacher who never fails to bore us during his lectures. It's become something of a tradition for us to entertain ourselves during this hour, finding fun in our conversations as the monotony of the classroom surrounds us. However, this time, Jared chooses to go his own way, mentioning that he wants to ditch in order to meet up with someone and I don't stop him—maybe this time it really will be the one.
Alone now, I contemplate my options. Although I briefly consider skipping classes and catching up with them later, I realise that I have nothing better to do than turn up. With a feeling of resignation, I head towards the lecture theatre when I hear Zoya's voice calling me. I turn my head to see her approaching with a beaming smile, her bag in her hand. Instantly, her joy becomes infectious and a matching smile spreads across my face.
"Hey, guess what? Our teacher's not here today!" she exclaims, her enthusiasm palpable.
"Really?"
"Yeah," she confirms, her voice full of playful innuendo. "I was planning to go home and binge-watch a series, but now that you're here, I'm up for changing my plan. What do you think?"
I don't hesitate for a second. "I'm absolutely in. Have you got your car? We should get out of here, right?" I ask, eager to seize this unexpected opportunity.
Without saying a word, Zoya interlaces her fingers with mine, silently conveying her desire for me to follow. As she pulls gently, I obey willingly, allowing her to guide me towards the car park. In the distance, I can see her car, recognisable by its bright red hue. It's a bold and eye-catching choice, befitting someone like Zoya. She has a magnetic presence that draws people's eyes, and the exceptional colour of her car only amplifies that effect. I can't help but think it's a deliberate choice, as if she wanted to make sure she never lost her car in the sea of others.
Determination etched on her face, Zoya retrieves her keys, her hands trembling slightly in anticipation. After a few tense seconds, she manages to unlock her car, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. Without further ado, she grabs my arm and pulls me into the back seat, where she lies down and invites me to lie on top of her. Her soft hands caress my cheeks as she looks me straight in the eye before slowly bringing my face to hers to make sure I'm up for it, and then placing her lips gently on mine.
I reflexively run my hands through her hair to intensify the kiss, but I stop when my brain finally wakes up and I come back to reality. I then move away from her, using my elbows to pull myself up before sitting down on the seat. She seems surprised and doesn't understand why I put an end to it so quickly. Normally I wouldn't, but I really need to talk to her today.
"What's going on?" she immediately worries.
I hold out my hand for her to sit up.
"Zoya, there's something I need to tell you."
She tilts her head to one side, leaving me to continue.
"It's… it's about what's happening between us. I just… I just wanted to know where it leaves you and me, you know? I mean, what are we, exactly?"
Tell me we're more than friends. Tell me I'm not the only one who gets that warm feeling in my stomach every time I see you. Tell me you feel more than just this attraction too. Tell me that you have that sensation of not being able to breathe until you're standing in front of me, too. Just tell me that we can be more, you and me. That's all I'm asking.
"Oh, er…"
She frowns slightly, apparently not expecting this question. She takes a moment to assimilate what I've just asked her, and my heart pounds with anticipation. I know she has the same sensations as me and that I'm not the only one. She's bound to have them.
"I haven't really thought about it," she speaks. "I mean, we're having fun, aren't we? And we're friends. We're just doing this for fun, right?"
My breathing stops.
"Oh, er… yeah. Yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking. Sex friends, right?"
She smiles at me. For the first time ever, her smile breaks my chest to the point where I can hardly breathe properly or look her in the eye.
"Yes, exactly!" she exclaims. "Okay, let's stop talking for a second. Shall we pick up where we left off?"
She grabs the top of my collar and pulls me in for a kiss. I stand still, forcing myself to respond to it. Inside, I'm destroyed. Totally devastated. And I have absolutely no idea what to do with all these emotions. I really feel as if my heart had been trampled underfoot, all because of a few words, a few little letters, a single little thought that has managed to destroy every single one of my hopes.
Friends.
We are friends.