Chapter Five: "Yee Haw and Giddy Up."

FRIDAYS ARE THE best days of the week.

It's basically the start of the weekend. When you're a kid, it's when the best shows release a new episode on the TV. When you're a student like me, you can unwind after all the lectures, tutorials, or labs you have for the day and relax as much as you can until it's Monday.

I hated Mondays, but Fridays? Fridays were amazing.

Especially since I wasn't scheduled to work tonight.

Opening the door to the front of my house, my new backpack dangled over my shoulders. Yasmeen was curled up in the living room, her laptop open as she was typing while a talk show was playing on the TV. She looked comfortable. Her legs were crossed on the couch, wearing a big sweater and a bowl of fruits by her side.

Rushing into the living room, I stood in front of her, grinning. She looked up at me puzzled before she realized the cause of my excitement. "It's Friday."

"It's Friday," I said loudly, my arms extended as if I was about to give her a hug. She dismissed it, continuing her typing and not allowing me to even falter her train of thought. "And I have no work. Do you know what that means?"

"It means that you're probably going to hole yourself in your room to study for your next midterm because you're not going to any party this weekend even though you would give away a kidney to."

She knew me too well.

"I wouldn't go to a party this weekend even if I wanted to. There's no one to go with. Everyone else has midterms or assignments too. I'm not stepping into Outlaw without my favourite people." Yasmeen glanced up at me again. "So, marathon?"

"Deal," She said, before pulling on my arm. "Sit down, you're reminding me of Iman with the way you keep smiling like that. It's freaking me out."

She offered me the bowl of fruits she was eating and I graciously took a strawberry as I sat next to her. "Where's everyone?" I asked her, noticing how quiet the house seemed.

"Larine went to her sister's for the weekend so no headboard banging for you."

I groaned, leaning my head back against the plush of the couch in relief. The last thing I needed was to hear the repetitive 'bang, bang, bang' against one of my walls. "Yes."

Yasmeen kept her eyes on her laptop, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she said, "You should honestly just talk to her about it."

"I will when I get this thing called courage from the Wizard of Oz," I said dryly, grabbing a grape from the bowl and plopping it into my mouth as the talk show changed to a commercial about cat food. "Not happening. Next."

Yasmeen stopped typing to shoot me a look, "What do you mean next?"

"Next roommate," I moved my hand, emphasizing for her to get on with the next topic. "What's Mariam doing?"

"Wait, she didn't tell you?"

"She didn't tell me what?"

"She's on a date."

My eyes widened and I straightened my back, whipping my head in her direction. "With who?"

"She met this guy who lives in town during homecoming. They're out right now."

I took my backpack off of my shoulders, putting it on the ground as I got comfortable with this conversation. "Stop."

"Yeah, they met around the time after you left Parkdale then they saw each other again during the concert and they would not stop talking," Yasmeen explained. "I think she really likes this guy. She didn't want to tell anyone because you know Mari."

"She thinks it's going to jinx things," I recalled as I finished the strawberry. "She did the same thing on her first date with Iman. She almost didn't give me the location of where she was going. I had to force it out of her. Imagine she didn't and something happened."

Yasmeen made a face. "She would have been with Iman. He wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"Iman and I weren't close as we were back then," I said. "He could've had, like, two brain cells and felt the need to leave her on the side of the road. Or he could have just left her at where their date was, stranded. What if her phone had died?"

"Then how would she reach you? Mariam doesn't know your number by heart."

I waved a hand. "She'd find a way to contact me but I'm telling you anything can happen. At least one person has knows where you're going. She told you, right?"

"They went to that mini-golf place across town. The glow and the dark one."

"Not a bad venue."

"He can pull out the cliché 'this is how you do it' line." She mused.

"Mariam would walk out there if he did that-no. It'll go well, though," I said, grabbing another grape. "She'll have nothing to worry about."

When a sigh left my lips, Yasmeen tapped me just as the talk show came back on the television. "What?"

"It's kind of like, wow," I leaned back against the couch once more, slouching.  "Her and Iman are really over'."

"They broke up months ago."

"Yeah, but a part of me always thought they'd get back together even though they agreed to stay friends and everything. You know the whole 'wrong time, right person' type of thing."

"I know what you mean but she was bound to move on."

"That's true," I took another strawberry from the bowl. "Did we get the name of the new guy?"

"Yup," Yasmeen showed me her notebook where Mariam had scrawled out his Instagram. I took out my phone, opening up the application to look through the man of the hour's page.

Extra careful this time.

"He's in business. Maybe he knows Clayton," Yasmeen speculated as we flicked through his profile and I went through it slowly, not wanting to mess up as I did before on this platform. I didn't need another Aven incident. "He's part of Delta Kappa Epsilon."

We continued looking through what seemed to be his endless number of pictures before I came to a conclusion.

"He doesn't seem like a dick," I made a face at the very typical picture of him and a bunch of guys in front of a keg, almost all of them wearing backward baseball hats. Somehow, a few of them, including Mariam's man of the honour felt that the best contribution to the picture was to throw up their fingers in very interesting positions. "Wow."

Yasmeen made a face. "Yeah, that's a weird picture."

"Guys can't take pics," I muttered, staring at one picture of him a few years back, half the phone covering his face. "He's probably nice since Mari's interested."

"Check for girls," Yasmeen said and I did just that, flicking through the comment section. "Wait, his bio says he has a Twitter. Check that after."

"Got it. So far no girls on his pics from the last few mon-" My phone vibrated. A direct message from the app showed up above the guy's username as a banner.

aven montaque: hey, this is the song right?

aven montaque sent a photo.

Yasmeen stilled next to me before she let out a gasp. A gasp more dramatic than I ever thought was possible from her. Her hand latched onto my arm. "Aven's texting you?"

"He messaged me on Instagram," I corrected, not helping her elated state as I stared at the banner until it disappeared. "It's just a message."

"Jay." Her brown eyes were wide as I stood up from the sofa.

"Yas, it's just a message." I wasn't even convincing her at this point, a part of me was trying to tell myself that. It was. It's just a message.

"And he's talking to you about music?" She dramatized as I grabbed my backpack and started making my way out of the living room and up the stairs to my room. "Out of all things- music? We know that's the way to your soul."

"Just. A. Message," I stressed, climbing the stairs. "If anything happens with Mari knock on my door."

Yasmeen stood at the bottom of the footsteps, arms crossed, "But-"

"Yasmeen."

"Jaiyesimi," She said.

I scoffed, taking the hat off of my head. "You're really pulling out the full name card?"

Jaime was the nickname my sister had given me growing up. She thought it was cute but then again she had called me various names since I was born. It wasn't just Jaime.

I went from Simi to Jai to Yo-Yo-because of a period where I had a collection of Yo-Yos when I was nine-to Jay to Jaime back to Simi for a very brief amount of time until Jaime stuck. And it stuck around more than I initially thought it would considering everyone called me Jaime or Jay for short since elementary school.

"Is it working?" Yasmeen asked.

"Unless your last name is the same as mine, it doesn't work, sweetie." Yasmeen's forms of protests faded when I closed my bedroom door, leaning against it, I glanced down at my direct messages.

Yup.

Still there.

Aven Montaque.

He had sent a screenshot from a music playing app on his own phone. The song by Keith Anderson, 'The Clothes Don't Make the Man' showed up.

Me: yeah, that's the one.

The second I sent that message, my eyes widened at the word 'seen' that appeared.

That was way too fast. No fucking way. Maybe it was by accident.

It could be by accident. I couldn't recall the number of times I accidentally clicked someone's message when I clearly didn't want to respond at that time. Yet, it wasn't because soon after that he was typing and a new message appeared on my screen.

aven montaque: There's no way you actually listen to country music.

Me: Okay, look.

I dropped my backpack on the desk chair, going through my music app. Tossing my hat on my drawer, I yelp when I almost tripped over a sweater on the ground. My eyes widened at the realization of how truly messy my room was at that moment.  My posters of various music artists from all genres hung along the walls and the tapestry up behind my bed was vibrant as the rest of the room. However, the string of clothes that littered the ground from when I was trying to find a shirt last night was a horrid clash to anything that made my room presentable. I almost wanted to scream at the thought of cleaning that up later tonight.

But later tonight wasn't right now. My fingers hit the buttons on my phone, sending Aven a few screenshots of my country only playlist 'yee haw and giddy up'. He replied fast.

aven montaque: you did not name it yeehaw and giddy up 💀

Me: But I did.

What are you going to do about that? I wanted to ask but I wasn't going to play that card. Instead, I stood there, awaiting his response like an idiot. I was not going to wait.

I locked my phone, about to move towards my backpack when it buzzed again. Damn, this guy replies fast.

aven montaque: What the fuck Jaime.

Me: There's no need to criticize my taste in music. What if you listen to only classical music? Am I going to shame you for that, music shamer?

aven montaque: I'm not a music shamer lmao send your @.

Me: here.

After I sent my username Aven didn't respond for a few minutes until I was sitting at my desk, scrolling through my laptop for the quiz I had yet to attempt that was due my midnight and my phone buzzed with a message from him.

aven montaque: you listen to Frank Ocean?

He actually went through my playlists. The thought of him looking that deep to find my favourite Frank Ocean songs that I knew were at the bottom of my profile made me a little unsettled.

Music was something I considered way too personal. Most of my playlists were on private but just having him look at my public playlist made me take a deep breath before typing in my response.

Me: I love him. I saw him live a few years ago at a festival that my cousin got me into.

aven montaque: Are you serious? I'd be so happy if he came to Canada. I'd be one of the first people to buy a ticket. I could talk about Blonde forever.

The sight of the familiar album title has me grinning as I twisted in my swivel chair.

Me: I was so obsessed with his music when I was in high school, I had to beg my mom to see him live and drop a shit ton of money on his merch.

aven montaque: What merch did you get?

Almost tripping over a shirt on the ground, I manage to make my way to my small closet. I searched through my clothes before I pulled out the item that I was talking about. Taking a picture of the shirt, Aven's first response was a wide-eyed emoji.

aven montaque: No way.

Me: Way. My cousin got it for me at a pop-up shop. It's worn out because I wear it often but yaaaaaa.

aven montaque: Okay, I take back what I said.

Me: About what?

aven montaque: About you having questionable music taste.

A snort flies out of my mouth from his logic before I hopped onto my bed, laying on my stomach.

Me: I agree with you one time and I have good music taste now?

aven montaque: Yes. I thought it was obvious that that's all you need to do.

I send him a middle finger emoji, turning onto my side with one hand on my phone and the other tucked under my chin.

aven montaque: that's mean jaime.

Me: :)

aven montaque: who else do you listen to?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't hard to find where my spot was in Lambton Library.

Walking in from the main entrance, you make your way to the elevators. Fifth floor.

Get off from the elevator and make your way past the cubicles where students didn't bother studying. Usually, they were softly speaking to their friends in the nearby cubicles as their break for studying for the latest statistics exam was prolonged as they binged watching a Netflix show.

Then you take a right, passing by the bookshelves to the back of the room. Then by the last bookshelf, take a left, make your way down and in the corner, there's a huge round table. Multiple available outlets would be around, it was a quiet area where you'd only hear others if you focused hard enough. It included a big window overlooking the large campus. From the angle, the corner was in the sun never streamed directly to bother you when were studying but there was a nice glow to the area around sunset time.

Mariam had to have taken that route late Monday afternoon as she skipped over to us in her trench coat. Her brown hair was tied in a high ponytail and she held onto the straps of her backpack.

"How was your midterm?" Yasmeen asked. 

"Good." Mariam said, taking off her scarf and backpack. "I think it went pretty well."

"90 well?" Yasmeen asked.

I took a deep breath, choosing to fetch my phone that I had shoved deep in my bag. As Mariam contemplated, I turned my phone on, looking through my messages, scrolling through a conversation with my sister and another with a friend from back in Port Yonge. One part of me wanted to block out the conversation about grades but another part of me was too curious to know how she felt about it.

"I think so but I know I didn't get lower than an 85. I calculated what I knew I got right during it." Mariam said, taking a seat next to me and stretching. "Can you believe it's practically mid-October?"

"Just wait until next week with the back to back exams," Yasmeen said, slouching in her chair as she went through her phone.

"Definitely not excited about that," I muttered.

"Biochem?" Mariam asked and my eyebrows went up. Even after her own exam, she still wanted to study? I would have gone home and taken a nap before even attempting to study for my next one.

Yasmeen was the same. The girl had stopped doing what she was doing on her phone, putting her earphones in her ears as she read through one of her psych books in the slightly chatty portion of Lambton. They were both so focused and yet for me it took all of my will to concentrate on a subject without getting distracted.

Even with my phone, my eyes would wander around the room, my ears would pick up the faint conversation of a girl telling her friends a very interesting story that involved a slip and slide in a residence.

"Imagine he asked us which direction DNA synthesis occurs on a strand," Mariam mumbled, flipping through her flashcards moments later.

"5 end to 3 end," I answered anyway, "And if he did everyone would pass. I heard his midterms were brutal, though."

"Who's?" Yasmeen asked, pulling an earphone out of her ear.

"Professor Brock," Mariam answered and she glanced down at her phone that lit up. She stared at it for a moment before going back to her flashcards.

Yasmeen didn't allow her to move on from that, "Who's that?"

"Just Jonathan."

"That guy from Friday?" I asked. When she had returned home later that day she didn't talk much about the outing. All she said was that the date had gone fine.

"You're not going to go out with him again, are you?" Yasmeen asked her.

Mariam shrugged. "I don't think so. He's nice and all, we just didn't click. Not like Jaime's been clicking with Aven."

"I have not been clicking with Aven."

"That's not what Yasmeen said."

"It was one conversation about music," I assured them. It didn't last that long either. We had sent each other our favourite songs and our favourite artists when he had to end the conversation to head to volleyball practice.

A pair of hands came down on my shoulders and I screamed, all thoughts of Aven out the window as I pushed the imbecile off of me. I figured it was Clayton but instead it was Iman who was snicking, giving me a hug that I shoved away.

He gave a hug to Yasmeen and Mariam before taking a seat on the empty space of the round table. "Lovely to see you all here."

"Where're you coming from?" Yasmeen asked him as he took his hat off his head.

"Gym," he said, stretching his long legs outwards and annoyingly tapping me on the foot. I pushed my foot down on his own and he hissed, retracting his legs. "Fuck, Jay. I did some lifting with a few friends. Now I got to study for biochem like you scholars."

He went through his backpack, taking out his notes and laptop and getting settled at the library like the rest of us. The library had gotten quieter as people left campus for the day but we lingered well into the late evening. Cartons of fast food lay on our table and currently, Yasmeen was taking a break, watching a show on her phone and I watched Mariam and Iman sit a meter away from each other as Mariam tossed terms from her flashcards at Iman to explain.

"You got it wrong," Mariam said to Iman, putting the flashcard down.

"Huh?" Iman looked offended. He picked himself up and his chair as well, bringing himself in front of Mariam.

Mariam held the card backwards and out of his reach when Iman reached forward for the card. He narrowed his eyes. "You're lying."

"I am not." The teasing smile on her face said otherwise.

"I didn't get that wrong." He reached out, poking Mariam to which she squirmed.

"Stop."

"Oh, please. I know what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything." Mariam laughed as Iman fought her for the flashcard.

He gasped dramatically when he saw the answer. "I knew it! You're such a liar."

Their hands were intertwined as she pushed against him with a grin on her face. The entire moment, the way he chided her, the way she beamed reminded me of all of us in almost this exact position last year when we were studying right before they had officially started dating.

Yasmeen noticed as well, her eyes off her phone screen. The two of us exchanged glances at the interaction between our friends.

Maybe they didn't move on from each other just yet.