There are many things I fear in this world: poverty, confined spaces, and my parents. But now there's something else haunting my dreams, shaking my sense of self and whatever remains of my moral compass.
Sai Anand.
"Uh?" Lindsay replies, trying her best to pay attention while painting her toenail a deep, dark shade of red. It looks cute on her, but I think it'd look better if a professional did it.
"Do you think red is too much for my toes? I mean, I've done it before, but I feel like I'm screaming for attention now—"
"Lindsay!" I snap, shaking my phone to get her attention. She sighs and brings her phone closer, only her brown eyes visible now.
"Ariel, look at me," she says.
I look anywhere but at my phone.
"Ariel," she says again, her voice stern this time. I sigh and meet her eyes.
"Where should we bury him?" she asks.
"What?!" I lower my phone volume. The hallway to the soccer field is usually empty, but still, I don't want anyone overhearing this.
"Look, it's been two weeks since he saw you at Lady Red's. He hasn't blackmailed you or ruined your academic life—or your life in general," Lindsay says, adjusting her phone. Now I get a full view of her in her Lilo and Stitch nightdress. It's 3 PM and she's still in pajamas. Ugh. I want to be a housewife too.
"Either he's plotting against you, or he genuinely doesn't give a fuck," she continues seriously.
I bite my lip, trying not to cry. It's Sai. I'm his rival. I've made his college experience hell just by existing and being smarter than him. But is that my fault? No. So technically, it's his fault for being academically challenged and stuck in second place.
"Okay, let me just talk to him before I murder him," I say and hang up. I didn't spend the whole day chasing that overdressed dung beetle just to waste my efforts on premeditated murder. This isn't a Jennifer's Body sequel, and I'm not Megan Fox. Maybe Megan Good.
I finger-comb my curls, swing them over my shoulders, apply lip gloss, and pout. Perfect. Pretty. Ready.
I walk to the soccer field, the late-afternoon sun casting long shadows on the benches. The air smells of grass and sweat. My heart pounds. I'm beyond nervous but prepared for war: grey plaid skirt, white collared long-sleeve crop top, and knee-length boots.
If this outfit doesn't attract a soccer boy's attention, I'll take drastic measures.
"Sai!" I yell. A few boys glance at me but keep playing.
"Sai," I whine, resisting the urge to stomp like a spoiled toddler.
He's in the middle of the field. I know he hears me. He's just ignoring me.
I grin before yelling, "Sai, I'm pregnant!"
He trips over the ball and lands face-first. I chuckle. Serves him right.
He glares at me while getting up.
"Come on, let's keep playing," he calls out. The boys obey. Some glance at me, but none are Sai.
Ugh. He's such an A-grade asshole. Fine. I'll go to him.
As soon as I step onto the field, the boys start yelling.
"Hey!" "Not with your boots!" shouts George from 101 Project Management in his thick Scottish accent.
Right. The heels are wrecking the turf.I smile to myself ,I can use this to threaten him.
"I'll keep walking if Sai keeps ignoring me!" I shout.
They all glare at him. "Go talk to the girl before she ruins everything."
He sighs and walks over. I stand as confidently as I can, even though this man could ruin my life.
He grabs my arm and leads me to the hall. His touch is gentler than it looks—like that night when...
"This isn't a place for thong-wearing dolphins like you, Ariel," he snaps, his tall frame looming.
His dark brown eyes scan my face, his lips curling into a sneer. His hatred is palpable. You'd think I stole from him.
"Can we talk? I promise I'll be nicer. Need help with programming? I got 100%, you got 85%. I'm free Thursdays. Fridays... well, you know where I'll be."
"Ariel," he says calmly, and I fall silent.
"You've been stalking me all week. Trying hard to get my attention. You need to stop." He pushes me gently against the wall and walks away.
I follow. I feel pathetic chasing after a man. They usually chase me.
"Sai, just let me explain about Lady Re—"
"Are you crazy? Want to get us both in trouble?" He glances around.
I shake my head.
He sighs, mutters, "Fuck," and softens.
"We'll talk later," he says and jogs back to the field.
"Is that your baby mama, Dior?" a midfielder calls, prompting laughter.
I laugh at the nickname. Dior? Sai barely wears it anymore. It's Saint Laurent and Nike now. His rich family even funds our scholarship program at Eaststein Private College—a school for the privileged. And I'm on that scholarship. A parasite, some say.
The scholarship covers tuition, not survival. At 18, I didn't read the fine print. I was homeless my first year. My lifeline? My best friend's not-so-rich husband. Second year, I got a job as a waitress at a strip club. Yes, thongs, stripper heels, sparkly bras. That's my reality.
Could I have asked my parents for help? Maybe. But returning to Namibia to attend a local university? No, thanks. I wanted freedom, not their expectations.
Classes drag. Sai said we'd talk, but he's MIA, and he's ignoring my calls.
I shove my books into my oversized bag and head to the ice cream parlor near campus. After the week I've had, I deserve it.
At the crosswalk, a familiar deep voice taps my shoulder. "Hey."
I turn and smile. It's Alexander.
"Hey! Long time," I say, pulling him into a hug. He smells amazing. I sneak a sniff.
"Yeah, I had to take classes online. My grandma wasn't well."
The light turns green. He gently touches my lower back and guides me across.
"Ariel, are you listening?" he asks.
We're on the other side already? Wow. One day, I'll ask him out.
I smile, tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Ah, sorry. Got lost in thought."
He raises an eyebrow. "I asked where you're going."
"Oh. Billy's Ice Cream Parlor," I reply, suddenly shy. I'm twenty but acting like a preteen. I need to Google how to seduce a handsome man.
He smiles, and my heart races.
He opens the door like a gentleman. I blush.
We sit at a cozy corner table. The parlor's pastel aesthetic feels like a trip to the '80s.
"What's on your mind?" he asks.
"Just school," I lie, while admiring his lips.
"Us scholarship kids gotta stick together," he says.
I nod. Alexander's family is wealthy, but he wants to be self-made. So admirable.
"So, I heard a wild rumor today," he says, frowning.
I stiffen. Did Sai talk?
The waiter brings our ice cream.
Alexander leans in. "Sai is your baby daddy."
I burst into laughter. People stare, but I can't stop.
"Where'd you hear that?" I ask, wiping tears.
He shrugs, looking guilty. "Nowhere."
Yeah, right. One of the soccer boys must've said it.
We spend hours catching up. Turns out, he loves yoga—his mom got him into it during his rebellious phase.
Later, we walk around D.C., taking in the city lights. It's nearly 10 PM. I should be studying, but this is better.
"These heels not killing you?" he asks.
"Please. I've spent five hours in nine-inch heels."
He scans me up and down, then lifts me bridal style. "My place is five minutes from here."
I don't squeal, but it's a struggle.
His place is gorgeous—floor-to-ceiling windows, polished hardwood floors, and ambient lighting.
"Don't mind my place. It's all I can afford," he says.
What! If he saw my apartment...
"Make yourself comfortable," he adds. I'm already on the couch, eating Doritos, sipping wine.
"I'm going to change for two minutes, and you're already home?"
"Yup." Mouth full of chips.
He smiles and sits beside me.
"Never really invited people here. Thought they'd laugh at me."
"Why?" I ask.
He sighs. "I have this new aloe vera face mask, want to try it with—"
My phone rings.
Lady Red.
I answer. "Ariel, it's Tory. You need to come in."
"Why?" I groan.
"Daisy's out of town. You're covering."
"I'm just a waitress—"
"Nope. A client booked you for the whole week."
"What?! I don't do that!"
"He said you're the 'thong-wearing dolphin.'"
Fuck. It's Sai Anand.