Ah! That Hurts!

Amara Cross POV

"Amara… the professor is calling you!"

I grabbed my hair in regret, pulling it hard, like I was punishing my mind for drifting so badly. I was completely gone from the room. I only snapped back when I felt Layla’s warm hand wrap around my wrist, lowering it to my thigh as she whispered carefully.

I jerked my head up and straightened in my seat like a soldier in formation.

"Yes, Professor?"

He stood tall, gripping the microphone tightly. His eyes burned behind his glasses with clear anger.

"Are you insane? Your movements and whispers are distracting the students. If you’re not willing to focus, then leave."

His harsh words sliced through the quiet hall. Heat rushed to my face in pure embarrassment. I stood up, my body trembling slightly, and bowed deeply.

"I apologize to everyone. I didn’t mean to disturb."

I sat back down wishing the floor would open and swallow me whole. I kept my head down, shame tying my tongue and stealing my courage to look at anyone.

When the class ended, I packed my things quietly and left with Layla to the cafeteria. She watched me in thoughtful silence, then tilted her head and asked,

"What’s wrong with you today? You’re not like yesterday. Even though you were sick, you were laughing and having fun. Did something happen?"

I lowered my gaze to the cold coffee cup in front of me. A heavy weight pressed on my chest.

"I don’t know. Maybe I’m just tired. I couldn’t focus at all today. I think I’ll struggle to understand everything on my own."

She suddenly patted my shoulder, then stood up with excitement.

"How about I explain the lessons to you myself?"

I looked at her in shock, my eyes widening.

"Really?"

She smiled softly and placed her hands on my shoulders with sincerity.

"Of course. Why do friends exist if not to support each other?"

A warm wave of happiness washed over me. I stood up and threw myself into her arms, hugging her tight, breathing in her calm scent.

"I’m so happy you came into my life, Layla."

She laughed and hugged me back.

"I’ll stick to your hair like gum and stay there. Even if you try to get rid of me, I’ll suffocate."

I laughed hard and hugged her tighter until our laughter filled the place.

"Ah, Layla… you’re strong."

The next hours dragged by slowly. At the end of the day, Layla drove me home. Before leaving, she promised to come by at eight in the evening to study together. The moment I stepped in front of the door, my heart shook loudly.

What am I going to tell Asla?

I opened the door very carefully. Asla stood there like a judge ready to give a verdict. One shoe in her hand. The other arm planted firmly on her hip.

"Welcome home, girl."

I smiled nervously. Then I jumped as she threw the shoe at me like lightning.

"Oh my God. Asla, calm down. I’ll explain everything, I promise."

I stepped closer, but she raised her index finger, warning me.

"Stay where you are. Forgiving you won’t be easy. I called you a million times. My heart dropped, thinking something bad happened to you. Speak. Now."

I rubbed my hands nervously, searching for a harmless lie to protect her from the truth.

"I was at Layla’s place studying. You know the weather was bad last night and the snow kept falling, so…"

She raised a brow with sarcasm.

"And who is this Layla anyway? And why didn’t you answer your phone?"

"My phone died. Layla didn’t have a charger that fits. She’s my new friend."

I thought I escaped. Then her shout hit me.

"Oh really? You sleep over at a girl you just met? How innocent you are, Amaro. And why didn’t you call me from her phone?"

I answered fast, feeling victorious.

"I don’t know your number by heart to call you from her phone."

I smiled in triumph. Her response was the other shoe slamming hard into my thigh.

"Ah. That hurts."

I groaned, rubbing my leg, trying to soften her.

"Come on, Asla. Forgive me, please. You know I didn’t mean to worry you."

I grabbed her shoulders gently and shook them in apology. She pinned me with a sharp look.

"Do that again and you’ll die right now."

I stepped back immediately and offered peace.

"Do you want me to make ramen?"

She raised a brow.

"Are you bribing me with ramen now?"

I laughed while taking off my coat.

"It’s not a bribe. I just feel like cooking. I’ll make it for both of us anyway."

I walked into the kitchen quickly, watching the steam rise as I stirred the noodles in the small pot. I wiped my forehead with a kitchen towel and smiled to myself. A hot bowl of ramen could soften Asla’s heart.

I added the spices and eggs. Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

I checked the time. Six thirty.

I frowned slightly. Didn’t Layla say she’d come at eight?

Asla’s voice came from the living room.

"Amara, someone is asking for you. Come quickly."

"Okay, coming."

I dried my hands, removed the apron, and stepped out to find a man in a black formal suit. His face was stiff, like a machine.

I looked at Asla in confusion. She shrugged, just as lost.

"Sir, are you sure you have the right address?" I asked carefully.

He ignored the question and replied in a flat voice.

"Are you Miss Amara Cross?"

I nodded. He turned to Asla coldly.

"One minute, please."

Asla stepped away, her eyes full of suspicion. The man then handed me an elegant black box, tied with a deep red ribbon. On top was a black card with a shiny gold frame.

"This is for you, miss."

"A costume party? What is this? Who sent you?" I asked in shock, trying to hand it back.

He pushed it toward me calmly.

"This is not a joke. The sender insisted you attend."

"The sender? Which sender?"

He ignored me again and said as he left,

"I’ll be here at eight tonight to pick you up. Be ready."

"Wait. Hey."

I ran after him, but he got into his car and drove away smoothly. I stood at the door, breathless and helpless, then went back inside holding the box tight to my chest.

"What was that? And who was that handsome jerk?" Asla asked with deadly curiosity.

She opened the card and read it.

"Oh. What kind of party is this?"

"I don’t know. I’m completely lost."

I carefully untied the red ribbon and lifted the lid.

I gasped loudly. Asla jumped.

"Wow. A wine colored dress this beautiful? And the shoes too. I bet this person is very romantic," she teased.

My eyes were locked on a small card placed on the soft fabric.

I picked it up. My jaw dropped as I read the elegant handwritten words.

"From Mr. Dorian. I bet wine red will suit your milky skin. Attendance is preferred, you stubborn girl."