Throwing Friends Under the Bus

Hala stood frozen in the middle of the crowded hallway, her breathing ragged, eyes glued to the horrifying line on her phone screen

Dr. Yousef: I am Dr. "Grumpy Pants" Yousef himself.

Smacking her forehead in utter disbelief, her brain completely short-circuited. She darted her eyes up to the massive wall clock mounted further down the corridor.

8:53 AM.

Her dead battery of a watch had set her up! The damn thing was running fifteen minutes fast, making her think she was doomed when class hadn't even started.

Dr. Yousef had been lounging in his plush office, sipping his hot coffee in total composure, casually laying out a trap while she walked right into it.

Panicking, her fingers trembled furiously as she scrambled to type a response

Hala: Dr. Yousef?! MY DOCTOR?!

Then came the second blow. A harsh system message flashed across her screen

(Message delivery failed. You have been temporarily blocked by the user).

Five minutes felt like an eternity. The campus bell chimed, and students began trickling into the lecture hall.

Hala remained anchored in place like a pale, lifeless statue.

Her friend Dima rounded the corner, grabbing her by the wrist mid-stride.

"Hala! Why are you standing there like a corpse? Move it before the professor shows up and locks the doors!"

Sinking into the tiered seats of the auditorium, Hala practically folded herself in half, using Dima’s back as a human shield.

Two minutes later, Professor Yousef strolled in with his signature aura of quiet authority.

Setting his coffee cup down on the podium with deliberate slowness, his sharp gaze swept across the entire room.

"Before we begin," his clear, commanding voice echoed through the room, "I'd like to address a small matter. My personal phone number is my private property.

When I provided it to this class, it was strictly meant for academic inquiries and coursework assistance. So... watch your texts and mind your manners. Understood?"

As he launched into his lecture, his eyes kept drifting back toward Hala's row. He had picked her out the moment he stepped in—the sheer panic written across her face was impossible to miss.

When the lecture finally wrapped up, the hall burst into a flurry of rustling notebooks and chatter.

Paralyzed by fear, Hala practically glued herself to Dima's spine, shuffling behind her step by step with her head ducked low, desperately trying to evaporate into thin air.

Dima grumbled under her breath, dodging her movements. "Ugh, Hala, you're driving me crazy! I swear you're moving like a turtle. Walk properly!"

Two steps short of the exit doors, Yousef’s deep voice cut through the noise behind them.

"Stop right there... Hala and Dima."

Hala’s soul nearly left her body on the spot.

Poor Dima froze, completely clueless about the situation. She whipped around to face Hala, her voice dropping to a panicked whisper. "What on earth did you do?!"

Both girls stood paralyzed, trembling like leaves

Dr. Yousef approached with slow, measured steps, stopping directly in front of them. He scanned their faces with an unreadable expression.

"Which one of you is Hala?" he asked calmly.

In a moment of pure, unadulterated panic, Hala’s survival instincts took over. Without thinking, she jabbed an accusing finger at her friend.

"She is! She’s Hala!"

Dima’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. She whirled on her, voice cracking with a mix of fury and terror. "Are you out of your mind?! Did you pull some stunt and now you’re trying to throw me under the bus?!"

Yousef raised an eyebrow, watching the drama unfold. "Relax, there’s no problem here... but I do need Hala for a quick word."

Hala’s brain went into overdrive. What could this terrifyingly strict professor possibly want from her? Meanwhile, Dima’s mind was practically burning with curiosity.

Yousef looked directly at Hala, his tone leaving no room for argument. "My office. Tomorrow."

Hala swallowed hard, nodding rapidly just to escape the pressure. "Right! Yes, Doctor. Absolutely. Tomorrow!"

The second they burst through the faculty exit doors, Dima spun around and grabbed a fistful of Hala's hair, screeching in frustration.

"You absolute nightmare! Tell me what happened right now! Were you trying to get me blacklisted by Dr. Grumpy Pants?! What did you do behind my back? Why does he want you?!"

Not one to take a beating lying down, Hala launched forward and grabbed Dima’s hair right back, shouting over the hallway noise. "Let go of my hair first! I'll explain everything, just let go!"

What followed was a full-blown catfight right in the middle of the main corridor—a chaotic spectacle of flying hair and muffled shrieks that drew instant snickers and bewildered stares from passing students.

Standing at the far end of the hallway, Dr. Yousef leaned against the wall, quietly observing the brawl from a distance. A faint, unreadable smile touched his lips.

"What a little chaotic troublemaker," he thought to himself, a warm flicker passing through his eyes. "Reminds me of my own dark past..."

By the time the two girls finally noticed the crowd gathered around them—and the dozens of smartphones actively recording the entire showdown—it was too late. Disentangling themselves in record time, they awkwardly tried to smooth down their bird's-nest hair.

Within minutes, the clip went viral across every campus group chat. They were officially the top trending topic on campus.

On the bus ride home, Dima's handsome boyfriend boarded at the next stop, sliding into the row across from them. He took one look at their disheveled hair and burst out laughing.

"You two are literally famous right now! The whole campus is talking about your fight. What even happened?"

Hala crossed her arms, snapping at him icily. "None of your business."

Deep down, a petty pang of envy pinched at her chest. Dima had a handsome, attentive boyfriend riding the bus with her, while Hala was stuck dealing with a grumpy professor and a ruined reputation.

When the bus pulled up to her stop, Hala turned to Dima with a mysterious glint in her eye. "After I go to Dr. Yousef's office tomorrow... I'll tell you everything."

Back home, Hala kicked off her shoes and sprinted straight to her bedroom. As the pampered, youngest daughter of the house, she had zero responsibilities, wrapped comfortably around her dad's finger.

She collapsed onto her bed, staring up at her bedroom walls—covered end-to-end with posters of K-drama actors and international pop stars. Resting her head against her arms, her thoughts drifted back to the morning.

"What does he actually want with me? Why didn't he throw me to the wolves in front of the whole lecture hall when he had the chance? Maybe... Dr. Yousef’s terrifying reputation isn't entirely accurate..."

Exhausted from the emotional roller coaster, she drifted into a deep sleep—only to drop straight into a bizarre, jaw-dropping dream.

In the dream, she was sitting at an exquisite, candlelit table in an upscale restaurant, surrounded by red roses.

Sitting across from her was Professor Yousef. But his usual sharp, intimidating demeanor was completely gone, replaced by an intense, overwhelming warmth. Reaching across the table, he gently held her hand, his dark eyes locked onto hers as he murmured in that deep, velvety voice:

"Hala... my love..."

In the dream, her heart soared, floating on cloud nine.

Hala shot up in bed, her heart hammering against her ribs, completely floored.

She sat there in the dark, rubbing her forehead in absolute disbelief. The dream hadn't left her angry—just wildly confused.

"Me and Dr. Yousef?! No way. Absolutely not! How on earth did I dream that?!"

Unable to keep the panic to herself, she yanked her phone from the nightstand and dialed her friend Carice.

The moment the call connected, Hala blurted out, "Are you awake? Listen... something crazy just happened!"

Carice rasped out a sleepy groggy reply. "I am now... What’s going on? You never call this early."

Hala let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, so... I had this insanely weird dream. I was at this super fancy, romantic restaurant with someone, totally head over heels and happier than ever!"

Carice chuckled softly. "Ooh! Sounds like a great dream." She paused, a random thought popping into her head. "Hey, Hala... question. If a forty-five-year-old engineer asked you out, would you date him?"

"Gross! Absolutely not!" Hala gagged instantly. "If he’s not a built guy in his twenties with abs, it’s a hard pass!"

Carice laughed. "Fair enough! My question was stupid anyway—just late-night thoughts. Go make yourself a midnight snack."

"Yup, Korean noodles calling my name. See you tomorrow!"

Hala hung up, staring at her screen for a moment before heading to the kitchen, the lingering memory of that deep voice still echoing faintly in her mind.