Jack and his guys were at the other side of the street, across from the parlor. They jeered when they saw me, but I flipped them off and stormed away.

"Aimee, wait!"

Fucking Miguel.

Without slowing, I yelled, "Fuck off!"

He jogged up to me, then matched my pace. "I know you're mad-"

"Oh, that's an understatement! I want to kill Jack."

"Woah, that's a strong statement-"

"I mean it." I stopped moving, glaring at him. "If I had a knife on hand, I would have gladly stabbed him in his stupid face!"

He backed up a bit, raising his hands. "Okay, point taken. But can you maybe wait until we get somewhere more private than a sidewalk before you yell about wanting to murder someone?"

I rose an eyebrow, scoffing. "We?"

"Well-"

"Miguel, what do you want?"

"Uh-" His words caught in his throat.

I growled. "Well?"

He swallowed, then cleared his throat. "Well I, uh, wanted to apologize. I didn't think this would happen-"

"Really? Well, maybe don't go screaming into random people's ears next time."

"You're not just a random person."

"So what am I then? We barely know each other." I scoffed. "Just because we fucked once doesn't mean we're besties."

His face flushed. "Yes, of course-"

"Oh, and I hope we're on the same page; that was a one-time thing. We're not going to become fuck buddies, so if that's why you're investing energy into apologizing, sorry to burst your bubble."

His expression fell to that of a kicked puppy's. He mumbled, "That's not why I'm here."

"Okay, so just the apology then. Noted, you can go now. Bye!"

Miguel looked away from me. After a moment of silence passed, I turned and walked away.

After a few moments, he shouted, "I'm sorry! I won't bother you again. And I'm sorry for the calls this morning."

I slowed my pace, furrowing my brow. What call-oh, so the number was his!

Scoffing again, I mumbled, "Figures."

. . .

It took me about twenty minutes to get back to my dorm room. By then, my rage had dissipated, leaving me with its consequences. I winced when I thought about the onlookers in the cafe watching me fly off the handle. Dropping onto my bed, I placed my hands on my face and groaned.

My face warmed when I remembered shoving Nabila. "Oh fuck."

I stood up and headed to her room, then softly knocked on the door. "Bila, are you in?"

There was no reply. I was about to knock again, then I realized that she was probably still out with Andre. I went back to my room, then texted her: 'I'm sorry for blowing up at you like that earlier.'

Minutes passed without a word from her. Fuck, she must be pissed at me. I don't blame her; I embarrassed her in front of Andre. Only god knows what they said about me after I left...

I bit my lip.

Right at that moment, I got a call. I brightened when I saw Angelo's caller ID, then answered the phone. "Hi."

Music was playing in his background as he drawled, "Hi, how are you?"

I sighed. "Not great, honestly. I'm kinda sad."

"Sad?" He chuckled. "Why are you sad, baby?"

I furrowed my brow but still narrated the events that had taken place earlier. After I'd finished, he scoffed. "He's lucky I wasn't there, or I would have punched his stupid face. Fuck, I hate people like that. Remember how much of a dick Dylan used to be?"

"Yeah, you hated him."

"Right! I'm glad I beat him up. Don't get me wrong, I don't wanna beat him up anymore. Like we're cool now. But not so cool that you start getting too friendly with him or anything; I don't like that."

Rolling my eyes, I smiled. "I hear you loud and clear."

He hummed. "So anyway...yeah...what were we talking about again?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like earlier, what we were talking about. I don't remember." He giggled. "Sorry, I'm high as fuck right now."

I frowned. "Oh, we were...never mind." He clearly doesn't care, so no point bothering him with it.

"No, tell me, I wanna know." Angelo drawled.

I brightened. "Well-"

"Ooh, I love this song!"

Sighing, I rolled my eyes. Angelo began rambling on about different topics, ranging from the type of music he was obsessed with at the moment to his contemplations on what to have for lunch. I listened, albeit feeling a bit resentful that he dominated the conversation. However, it provided a good distraction for a couple of hours.

By the time we got off the call, Nabila had replied: 'It's alright, don't worry about it.'

I sighed, then texted her: 'Alright, let me know when you get back.'

. . .

Nabila came to my room later that evening. As soon as she settled inside, I repeated my apology.

She shook her head, smiling. "Seriously, don't worry about it. It's not like this is the first time something like that has happened, right?"

My face warmed. I looked away.

She hastily added, "I mean that I know not to take it personally! Plus, it's nice that you apologize now, rather than just trying to make it up to me."

I looked up at her sharply. "You used to tell me that you liked that!"

She grinned sheepishly. "I did! I just appreciate the apology, that's all."

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, whatever."

"Anyways," she said, "you had a right to be angry-"

"Right!" I exclaimed. "Like why the fuck would that dickhead be mad because I didn't like what Miguel did? And why the fuck would Miguel even randomly do that? I could have spilled my ice cream, for fucks sake!"

"Yeah-"

"Oh and by the way, guess what? Turns out he was the one who called me this morning."

Nabila furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Miguel tried to call me this morning, but I didn't know it was him. Not that it would have made a difference if I had known anyways." I groaned. "I wonder how the hell he even got my number."

Nabila thought for a bit. "Does Precious have your number?"

"Precious-" My eyes widened. "Of course! Fuck, I need to tell her that she shouldn't give out my number without my consent, especially not to guys like Miguel. Ugh, he must be hoping to have me as a regular booty call; why else would he take my number?"

Nabila said, "Maybe he wants to be friends-"

I rolled my eyes. "Bila please, we're talking about the guy who kissed me because he felt we were 'connecting'."

"That sounds more romantic than anything else."

"Romantic? That would be even crazier than if he wants something platonic! Trust me, he's just looking for easy sex."

Miguel's words echoed in my head: 'That's not why I'm here.'

I added, "And even if that isn't the case, it doesn't matter; I don't want anything further with him."

Nabila said, "Well whether you talk to him or not is up to you."

"Mm. Anyways, enough about me: how did things go with you and Andre after I left?" I wagged my eyebrows at her, then grinned sheepishly. "He thinks I'm a crazy bitch, doesn't he?"

Nabila shook her head. "Not at all! He understands why you were angry."

"Alright. So did anything happen between the two of you?"

"Well..." Nabila looked away, smiling. "We kissed."

"Oh my god, yes! Your first kiss with him-" I wiped away a faux tear, grinning, "-I'm so proud."

Nabila giggled. "Well technically it wasn't our first kiss, but it was our first sober one."

"So it's the one that counts! Did you give him your number?"

She shook her head, grinning. "Guess what? I asked him for his instead!"

I placed my hand on my chest, gasping. "What? How did you get the balls to do that? You know what: Tell me everything that happened after I left!"

.      .      .

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