The Coldest Summer✓

Twenty-five

"So, when are you going to tell me about your secret affair?" Sam quizzes out of the blue.

Secret affair? I almost hit the brakes.

"What do you mean?" I woman-up and ask, my heart racing.

"You keep exchanging glances with Malik, and when I ask, you keep denying." She glances at me, her face serious. "If it's not the secret romance, then there's something you two are hiding from us; I wasn't born yesterday."

Well . . . that is surely a misconception on her part.

"Suppose you're right." I keep my eyes on the road, driving moderately. "Let's say I do like someone, but that person is not Malik." I glance fleetingly at her.

"And . . . who would that person be, if it's not Malik?" she asks, curious, and my throat turns dry instantly.

Mustering the most reserved courage I have, I ask Sam, "What if it's Liam?" My eyes are bold and determined. "What if the guy I like is the same one you like?"

Unsettling silence takes a reign, our eyes fixed on one another. My heart beats at the speed of a rocket, wondering what I'm doing with my crazed life. But it's the truth, right? My subconscious is nowhere to be found.

Why isn't Sam saying anything? I can't help but worry over this intense atmosphere blanketing us. It's unnerving. And suddenly, she bursts out laughing, hysterically, forcing a small frown on my face.

"That's pretty funny!" She keeps laughing. "You? Liking Liam? Seriously, Kira?" Her voice is wrapped with utter disbelief.

"Yes. Is it impossible or something?" I huff a nervous laugh.

"Totally," says Sam, and I just hold my tongue. "I mean, I don't think Liam is your type, Kira . . . let's face it." She's amused.

What does she mean by that?

"And may I know why?" I ask incredulously, my eyes wide in stun. "Or rather, who is my type?" I fail to hold the feel of offense I find in her remark.

Maybe it's nothing new coming from Sam, but I feel absolutely offended right now.

"I don't know, Kira. I'd say someone like Malik, whom you get along so perfectly, but then he's also a playboy; he'll just play with your feelings. Maybe you deserve someone sweet and saint," she says. "Someone who won't give you a headache. But Liam, he's like . . . I don't know. He's just not for you. And Malik, he's so used to date worldly women so it'll be disastrous."

"Oh? So basically, men like Liam and Malik are not my level. Is that what you mean?"

I'm terribly hurt.

"Well, something like that," Sam says, shrugging. "Kira, you've never seriously dated anyone before. If you begin a relationship, then it should be with someone who'll be a sweetheart and not some egocentric dude who knows so perfectly that he's great."

So she can have those egocentric men but I can't. She can like men of high status in class but I shouldn't? I've always taken every degrading word she threw my way, without putting much meaning to them, but this time it's too much.

"Okay, I heard you." I smile. Perhaps I should make her eat her words. "And what if we happen to fall for the same guy?" I ask casually, my eyes back on the road.

"Why the fuck would you ask something like that?" Sam deadpans.

"Out of curiosity?" I remark coolly, shrugging. "Why? You think I don't have eyes for good looking men as you do?" A laughter escapes me, for this is too ironic already.