CHAPTER ONE
Sheila's POV
Fridays are a sacred haven for college students, a chance to shed the weight of exams, papers, and projects. While some flock to parties and clubs, others retreat to the comfort of their beds, binge-watching shows, playing video games, or enjoying a cosy dinner date. As Friday arrives, everyone's plans kick into high gear. Mine unfold in the cosy corner of my dorm room, where books and notes sprawl across my desk, the glow of my laptop illuminating my determined face. The sound of fingers flying across the keyboard fills the air, accompanied by occasional sighs and sips of lukewarm coffee. If my trusty keyboard could speak, it would sarcastically remark, 'Great, another night with this party pooper!' echoing my roommates' discontent as they try to drag me out.
"Sheila, can't you have fun for once in your lifetime? Even if you later end up being a nun", Lisa said while selecting her outfit for the evening.
Lisa James, one of my roommates, stands out with her blonde, wavy hair, hazel eyes, a tall and slender model-like physique, and perfectly shaped lips. She's an outgoing and adventurous free spirit, always eager to share her thoughts. Whereas her cousin Harper, our other roommate, embodies a gothic vibe and frequently uses sarcasm in her conversations. Harper Luke boasts luscious, black locks that fall straight and shiny, framing her dark brown eyes. Her thick build and plump lips complete her striking features.
"I'm having a lot of fun analysing SQL trends", I told Lisa, trying to sound convincing, despite the throbbing headache and mental fog. I turned out Harper's dramatic sighs as she glanced at her watched for the umpteenth time.
"Come on, Sheila, let's go. We're going to be late for the club opening." Harper said, her tone laced with impatience.
I shook my head, eyes fixed on my screen. "You guys go ahead. I've got a project to finish."
Lisa chuckled. "Sheila, it's Friday night, live a little."
I smiled wryly. "My database isn't going to optimize itself. Besides, I'm on a roll."
Harper's sarcasm dripped like honey. "Oh no, I'm shocked. Sheila's choosing coding over clubbing. What a surprise."
I ignored her jab, accustomed to Harper's teasing.
"I mean, who needs human interaction, music, or fun when you have SQL and databases?" Harper continued.
I bit back a grin. Harper loved to poke fun at my coding habits, but deep down, she knew I was happy.
Lisa intervened, "Harper, stop teasing. Let's go."
Harper pretended to whisper to Lisa, "Don't worry, I'll make sure to send Sheila a 'Get Out More' care package."
I looked up, meeting Harper's playful gaze. "Have fun, guys. Try not to get too lost without me."
As they left, Harper called out, "We'll struggle to survive without your coding expertise."
I chuckled, returning to my screen. "Just one more query…"
The silence was blissful, allowing me to focus on my project. I was in my element, where code and logic reigned.
No loud music or crowded clubs for me tonight. Just SQL, databases, and the thrill of solving puzzles. Perfect Friday night.
The silence lasted only a second. My stomach's growl erupted, breaking the stillness of the room. I groaned inwardly, standing up to grab my car keys. Time to satiate my hunger.
I rushed to the nearest pastry shop, lost in thought. Before I knew it, I collided with a solid object, landing on the ground with a thud. A cup of coffee splashed everywhere, and my stomach protested louder. I muttered "perfect Friday night indeed."
As I looked up, I realized I hadn't bumped into a wall, but a young man in his mid-twenties. His chiselled face, straight nose, and full lips left me breathless. Messy short dark brown hair framed his striking features, and piercing emerald eyes sparkled with anger. His glare, however, diminished their beauty.
Despite his scowl, I couldn't help but stare. Lack of partying and socializing must have left me deprived, because I couldn't tear my gaze away from this infuriated, yet handsome, stranger.
I snapped back to reality at his rude words, but his deep voice sent shivers down my spine.
"If you'd looked where you were going, it would have saved my expensive sneakers and joggers from getting soaked by the coffee," he said.
A high-pitched voice pierced the air. "Bitch, what's wrong with you? If you can't see, get glasses! Stop staring at my boyfriend like that, you little tramp."
I was baffled. How did bumping into her boyfriend and spilling coffee warrant this outburst?
The woman's attire and jewellery screamed wealth: gold necklaces, bracelets, and earrings, paired with a sleeveless black crop top, short denim skirt and black heeled ankle boots. Her brunette hair cascaded down her back, and a butterfly tattoo adorned her collarbone.
The man wore a grey hoodie, black joggers, and white and black sneakers, complemented by a golden Rolex watch.
A hot slap to my cheek jolted me out of my trance. Tears filled my eyes, but before I could react, a familiar voice intervened.
"What's wrong with you, Bentley? You're nothing but trouble. And Omar, are you just going to stand there like a coward while your girlfriend beats her up?"
My heart skipped a beat. Carlton Banks, my college crush – a fascination that still lingers, even though he graduated – was standing up for me!
Carlton helped me up, his brown-skinned, muscular frame towering over me. "Are you okay?" he asked, his black eyes filled with concern.
I nodded still in shock.
As we walked out of the shop, I couldn't help but notice Carlton's chiselled features: black Afro-shaved hair, piercings, and dimples.
In the car, I finally found my voice. "How did we end up here?"
Carlton chuckled. "You were out of it, so I took your keys, opened the door, and drove."
My stomach growled, embarrassing me further.
We arrived at a luxurious neighbourhood, and Carlton led me to his apartment. "Why am I here?" I asked.
"Isn't it obvious? You're starving, and I am too. Besides, homemade food beats pastries." He smiled.
A foodie at heart, I couldn't resist the offer of free food. Yet, as I walked into Carlton's apartment, a shiver ran down my spine. What if he had ulterior motives?