The piercing sound of her alarm jolted Amara awake, its relentless buzz cutting through the quiet at exactly 5:00 AM. She groaned, rubbing her temples as the events of last night replayed in her mind. She hadn't intended to stay so late at her best friend, Freya's birthday party, but promises were promises.
She swung her legs off the bed, her head pounding faintly. "Ay Dios mío," she muttered under her breath. "I should've stopped at the second drink."
The party had been wild—laughs, music, and plenty of drinks flowing. By the time the birthday girl got thoroughly wasted, the night was cut short, forcing everyone to call it a night. Amara couldn't complain; it was fun, but now the consequences were kicking in.
"Why did I agree to this?" she mumbled as she padded to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.
Her reflection stared back at her: tired eyes, slightly puffy from lack of sleep, and her hair is a disheveled mess. She sighed. No amount of makeup could fully mask exhaustion, but today was Friday. Quiz Day.
Quiz Day was her saving grace. It meant she didn't have to lecture much, just let her students review before their tests. As a teacher, she loved her job, but today, the thought of standing in front of a room full of energetic kids made her want to crawl back into bed. Still, work was work.
As she packed her things—her lesson planner, papers, markers and other stuff —her phone buzzed on the table. It was a text from her mom.
Mom: Don't forget family dinner tonight! 7 PM sharp.
Mom: And wear something nice! Maybe someone will notice you this time. 😊
Amara rolled her eyes, already knowing where this was headed. Friday wasn't just Quiz Day; it was also Family Dinner Night, another tradition she both loved and dreaded.
Later that evening, Amara found herself at La Vida Alegre, one of the city's most well-known restaurants. It was the kind of place her parents loved—elegant but not overly fancy, perfect for their weekly tradition.
"Amara, over here!" her mom waved enthusiastically from a large table near the back. Her dad was already seated, looking sharp in his button-up shirt, while her younger siblings, Aimee and Amadeus, were chatting away with their respective partners.
Amara sighed as she approached, feeling that familiar pang of loneliness. It wasn't that she envied her siblings for being in relationships—it was the constant reminders from her parents that made it exhausting.
"Finally! You're late," her mom said as Amara sat down.
"It's 7:02, mamá," Amara replied, raising an eyebrow. "That's hardly late."
Her mom waved her off. "Excuses, excuses. Anyway, we were just saying how lovely it is to have everyone here. Mateo brought his girlfriend, and Lily brought her boyfriend… and you," she said pointedly, her voice taking on that familiar nagging tone, "brought no one. Again."
Amara bit back a sigh and forced a polite smile. "Maybe because I'm here for the food, not to parade someone around?"
Her father chuckled, clearly amused by her sarcasm. "Speaking of parading," he said, leaning in conspiratorially. "You know, Amara, I met someone recently. A nice young man. Hardworking, good-looking, and single."
Amara groaned inwardly. Of course. Aquí vamos otra vez.
"Papá, not again—"
"Hear me out," her dad interrupted, raising a hand. "He's the son of our family's friend, soon to be business partner, and I think he'd be perfect for you. You should meet him."
Amara's polite smile faltered for just a moment, her mind suddenly flashing back to last night at the club. The memory came unbidden: the dark-haired man at the bar, his intense gaze, and the way he smirked as if he owned the world.
Her dad's words barely registered as the scene played in her head. She remembered the brief interruption when she and her friends had gone to order drinks. She'd apologized to the guy, catching a glimpse of him and the blonde he was with, which she must admit, way hotter and gorgeous. She always wanted to have that blonde colored hair.
But that guy, he'd seemed… familiar somehow. Maybe it was the confidence, or maybe it was the way he carried himself, but the memory lingered longer than it should.
"Amara? Are you even listening?" her mom's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
She blinked, her cheeks warming slightly. "What? Oh, sorry. I was just… thinking about work."
Her mom narrowed her eyes, clearly suspicious, but let it slide. "Well, like your dad said, maybe it's time you start thinking about more than just work. You're not getting any younger, mi amor."
Amara clenched her jaw but stayed silent, knowing any protest would only fuel the fire. She focused instead on the food that had just arrived, trying to block out the usual lecture about finding a husband and giving her mom the grandchild she'd been begging for.
Amara shook her head at the thought. *Two years,* she thought with a wry smile. This routine had been her life ever since she turned 25, and the label "NBSB" (No Boyfriend Since Birth) seemed to follow her like a shadow.