The Coldest Summer✓

Twenty-eight

"That was quite a scene. Who is that woman? She kind of looks familiar," Sam asks about the wild brunet.

"Sheila Mateo, the CEO of SM fashion," Natasha answers indifferently. "Girls, I gotta go. My puddles must be hungry by now, and I have a sleep to catch on." She is in a rush.

"Oh, sure," I reply.

"I hope to see you again before you leave, huh?" Natasha smiles, and Sam gives her a nod. "Now where is my baby again? He has to drive me home, there's no way I'm taking a taxi like this," she mumbles to herself as she wanders off.

With Natasha gone, my friend finally takes notice of me. She joins me by the pool and starts talking about Malik. We both wonder who that wild brunette is.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks afterwards.

And here we go again.

"Sam. Don't." I give her a stern look.

"Okay. Okay." She surrenders, her hands in the air. "Have you seen Liam?" she asks out of the blue. "He wasn't looking great earlier, so I'm wondering how he's doing right now. Would it be awkward if I check on him?" Sam asks.

"It's your choice, Sam. What I think can't dictate what you feel, can it?" I glance up at her, exhausted by this topic.

"Well, I'm not sure." Sam sighs audibly, looking rueful. "It's crazy that I don't function around him. What's wrong with me, Kira? I never fret for a trouser and yet here I am, debating whether to go and ask if he's okay or not. How stupid is that?" She huffs a ridiculous laugh.

"Do you really love him, Sam?" I blurt out, for I'm very curious about this one.

Sam flushes. "I don't know what loving someone means, Kira, frankly speaking. I've never loved before . . . like really loving a guy head over heels. But with him, I feel different." Her voice is amorous, dreamy, her eyes gleaming in a similar design. "I'm trying hard not to show it, because whenever I try to get closer to him, he takes a step back. It really scares me and I know I don't have time as this trip will soon be over."

"Sam," I call nervously, my lips barely parting as the voice comes out. She hums her assent for me to go on. "I have something to tell you and I'm sure it's going to be hard for you to accept—"

His mobile rings, the song I don't know flies up in my ears.

"New number?" Sam scowls at the screen of her mobile. "Hold on, Kiki, I need to get this. Maybe it's from my landlord, because I asked someone to fix a leakage at my place," she tells me while taking the call.

I take a deep breath, partly disappointed, partly relieved. I don't know what I truly feel honestly. As Sam picks the call I take the moment to fetch us some drinks in the kitchen. Or better yet, to escape from the ticking bomb in the shape of my lies and deceit.

I stride in the kitchen and grab a gallon of juice, then the glasses. My thoughts are all over the place, deranged, and my anxiety causes a tremor in my hands. I place everything on the breakfast table, taking a deep breath.

"How should I explain this to her?" I think out loud.

I don't get a chance to do a thing, or think more, as Sam breezes in and snaps, "Kira!"

"What?" I glance briskly at her.

She catches a long breath. "Guess who has just called?"

Not a guessing game, please.

"Who?" I ask.

It takes eternity for her to answer, something that usually annoys me.

She finally speaks, "Well, it was Jeremy. Can you believe Jay is in Miami?"