THE PURSUITS OF SHAIYA FONTAINE

2

I woke up the next morning with the bitter aftertaste of the night before at the back of my throat. My headache was a pulsating throbbing sensation. I wasn't hung over. I had just overslept. I would briefly have my sleep interrupted by the sounds of the people in my house or the vibration of my phone alerting me I had received a message. I had also ignored a few phone calls, reaching over to place my phone on silent. As I slowly regained consciousness the first thing that popped into my mind was the assignment deadlines I had coming up. I stretched feeling drowsy and uncomfortable, but it was now coming up to five in the afternoon so I knew I had to get out of bed. I had stumbled into my house at the early hours of the morning, brushing past my mother who was hurriedly taking my younger sister Ivy to Saturday school. She threw me a deliberate look before calling over her shoulder impatiently at my sister who had gone in the kitchen to get a glass of milk.

"I'm coming!" she heard her wail as I trudged my way up the stairs towards my bedroom before unzipping my playsuit and abandoning it on my carpet before clambering into my bed.

"You look a mess." Taryn - my nineteen-year-old stepsister - observed as I came out of the bathroom after using the toilet and brushing my teeth. I stared back at her blankly for a moment registering the amused look on her lightly made up face before I brushed past her purposely knocking into her shoulder. She reacted dramatically and loudly. "Ow! Shaiya was that necessary?"

I winced at the high-pitched edge to her voice. "Why do you always have to be so loud?" I groaned as I re-entered my room slamming the door behind me. I was met by darkness with a slight orange tinge from the glare of the sunlight behind my curtains. I grabbed my phone that was on my bed before walking towards my desk, sitting down on my swivel chair as I unlocked my phone and curiously checked my messages and missed calls.

Shaq wanted to know if I had got home safely - he had generously paid for mine and Riah's cab fare, while Kayla was wondering whether I was the one who had a cropped leather bomber jacket, Riah had repeatedly messaged me to call her and Ishmael wanted to know if he could burrow one of the books I had bought for one of the essays we had to do that term.

The message that stood out to me the most was the one I received from Rashan: I see how you left without giving me my hug

I stared at the message momentarily feeling heavily confused and annoyed at the fact that even now after we hadn't spoken for almost six months and the last time we spoke I told him via text message to delete my number and simply forget about me he still felt like he could text me. We hadn't exchanged one word with one another at Shaq and Marcel's flat and he hadn't even acknowledged me when I had slipped past him a couple times to get myself a drink from the kitchen and yet he felt the like he could text me the same thing he would text me when we were college and we were secretly seeing each other: I see how you left without giving me my hug. It would always make me smile to myself before shyly glancing over at him to where he would usually be sitting - which was always across the room with his friends - and nodding towards the classroom door. I always thought our situation was smart.

But what I didn't realise then was that there is a difference between a relationship being private and it being a secret.

Rashan and I denying that we were seeing each other only benefited him as it meant he could speak to other girls without their acknowledgement or mine because he was having the same type of relationship with them - which was no real relationship. No matter how much he tried to insist it was a real relationship, as the reality of our situation slowly crept into my focus...I realised it really was a whole load of nothing.

I felt sick as I read over his message deciding to tap on it to eliminate the bold text and allow him to see that I had read it - but I was not going to respond to it. It was clear to me that he was used to blanking me when there was a lot of people around, he was just up to his old tricks again, probably trying to see if I would reply and somehow one reply would become another and the next thing you know we would be back in our old, confusing relationship status. I automatically enlarged his WhatsApp display picture it was a picture that was taken last night of him, Shaq, Marcel, Timz and Ryan. He looked good, dressed in all black as usual with that dark, smouldering expression he had in all his pictures while Marcel, Timz and Ryan all smiled for the camera. He was really feeling himself last night.