Interraction

ARWAN

"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter, my frustration evident as I clutch the packet of stolen popcorn in my hand. Glancing over at Emery, still peacefully asleep as the credits roll on the screen, I can't help but feel a mixture of annoyance and amusement. She managed to fall asleep halfway through the film, giving me the perfect opportunity to steal her popcorn and drink. It was a small victory, but now the film is over, I'm left with a perplexing dilemma.

I shake my head, trying to suppress the irritation rising inside me. I can't believe she paid for a ticket just to doze off in the middle of a cinema. Why did she even bother coming here if she was going to fall asleep? Why didn't she just stay at home and just rest? You really have to be stupid to do something like that, especially as she's succeeded in disrupting my quiet evening with it. I was supposed to relax and stop thinking about Zoya, but that's exactly what I did throughout the film, and I can only blame Emery for that.

Now, on top of that, I have to decide whether to leave her here alone or take her with me. I sneer. The choice is clear. With her popcorn in hand, I head for the exit, leaving her behind. If she wakes up and ends up angry with me, well, she shouldn't have fallen asleep in the first place. It's her fault for missing the film. I can't be held responsible for her actions. As I walk away, I can already feel the satisfaction pulsing through my veins, just imagining her waking up and not understanding what's happening to her.

But when I reach the exit door, I stop.

I let out a frustrated sigh, unable to contain my exasperation. Closing my eyes, I mentally berate myself for getting involved with someone like Waverly and curse my sister for having such rotten friends—she'd kill me if I were to leave her BFF all alone. With a sense of resignation, I retrace my steps towards Emery and shake her shoulder, hoping to wake her up. To my dismay, all I get in response is a muffled grunt.

Rolling my eyes, I feel my patience wearing thin. She's really going to push my buttons, isn't she? I persist, shaking her arm with a bit more force, but still, there's no response. Starting to lose my temper, I shake her more vigorously until she topples out of her seat and her fist lands on my jaw.

"Fucking hell!" I swear, rubbing my sore jaw, only for her to simply roll over and go back to sleep.

It's beyond frustrating. I'm really on the edge here.

"Waverly, hurry up. I haven't got all day," I say, trying to sound stern.

"Shut up," she growls, barely acknowledging my presence.

"Waverly!" I raise my voice.

But once again, it falls on deaf ears. Losing patience completely, I decide to lift her from her seat and hoist her onto my shoulder, determined to take her with me. Grabbing her bag as I go, I take a moment to straighten her skirt, making sure no one has the idea of looking underneath. Surprisingly, she doesn't protest, still sound asleep.

I quickly leave the cinema, rummaging through her bag for her car keys. If there's a silver lining in all this chaos, it's the chance to drive her BMW. After all, I came here by bus, so I might as well make the most of it. There must be some reward for enduring this disaster, right?

Unlocking her car, I unceremoniously place Waverly on the passenger seat and lean over to secure her with the seatbelt. Her hand inadvertently lands on my arm, and I give it a little tap to remove it. Finally, I take the driving seat, savouring the moment and fully appreciating the luxurious surroundings. Putting my hands on the steering wheel, I take in every detail of the car and the comfort of the seat. My God! This is pure bliss!

With a mischievous grin on my face, I turn the ignition and the mighty engine roars to life; a sweet melody emanates from the car and fills the air with a symphony of mechanical beauty. This car is truly a jewel. The thrill of driving such a luxurious vehicle courses through my veins as I cruise the familiar streets. It's a guilty pleasure, but I can't help indulging in this little adventure while Waverly dozes beside me.

After a short drive to test the car, I turn to the brunette next to me as I stop at a red light.

"So, where do you live?"

With difficulty, Emery straightens and stretches, observing the night streets around her. I know she's heard me; she's deliberately avoiding answering me. And I clearly don't have the patience to play this game with her. I have a training session tomorrow, and I don't want to risk my sleep just because she wants to play games with me.

"So? Hurry up," I insist. "I'm already nice enough to offer to drive you home, so it's the least I can do."

Her tired eyes finally land on me.

"I don't want to go home," she whispers.

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by her answer. I was expecting her to say something whimsical like, 'I don't want to give you my address because I'm way too rich for you', but instead, she seems to be playing the sincerity card. This manages to arouse my curiosity. The way she says it so calmly and in such a weak voice makes me think that maybe there's more to her than the simple bitch I deal with every day. I mean, I still think 'bitch' is what suits her, but maybe there's more to her than that.

But it's not my problem.

"Why not?"

Again, she hesitates for a moment, then locks her eyes in mine. I can't tear my gaze away from hers, trapped in the intensity of it.

"I don't want to go. I want to go to your place."

Caught off guard, I burst out laughing, struggling to keep my eyes on the road. Her request seems so absurd and unexpected that I find it comical. Who'd have thought Emery was a comedian? Asking to spend the night at my place! Yeah, right! Anything else?

I'm amused by her little joke, but when I see her serious expression, I slowly lose my mirth, realising that she isn't trying to be funny but that she's obviously quite serious.

"You're kidding, right?" I reply hesitantly. "Sleeping at my place? Are you crazy?"

She crosses her arms, a determined look on her face. "I'm not joking, Arwan. I really want to stay at your place. Lil' is there, right?"

I shake my head in disbelief. "No, she's not here, and even if she were, it wouldn't change my answer. There's no way I'm taking you home with me."

Her perseverance remains unwavering. "Why not? I've slept at your place several times before."

Rolling my eyes, I let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, and I can't say I was exactly thrilled about it. Look, you have your own house, Waverly. Stop treating ours like a fucking hotel."

Undeterred, she continues to press her claim. "I'm not giving you my address."

"Fine, then I'll leave you and your precious car to find your own way. You seem wide awake now," I retort with a hint of sarcasm.

She lets out a weary sigh, her voice softening as she pleads, "Arwan, please. Stop acting like a child. It's just one night. What difference does it make? I'm not asking to take your room or anything."

A laugh escapes me. "Thank God!"

Emery rolls her eyes, adjusts herself in her seat and leans towards me, causing a slight distraction from my driving. Her intensity catches me off guard as she asks, "What do you want? What's your price?"

I frown, surprised by her unexpected question. "What?"

Undeterred, she leans closer. "What's your price, Arwan?" she repeats. "Do you want me to buy you a new phone or something?"

I burst out laughing again, finding her suggestion both amusing and disconcerting. "You really think you can buy me?"

Her expression remains resolute as she replies, "Everyone has a price. Just tell me yours."

I pause for a moment, considering her words. The truth is, I've never really thought about what it would take to sway me. But as I look into her eyes, I realise that maybe, just maybe, there's something more to her request than meets the eye. I mean, she's rich, right? If she's offering me something like that on a silver plate, who am I to turn it down? It's a golden opportunity, one I'm certainly not going to turn down.

"Okay. My price," I say, a gleam of mischief in my voice, "is something truly extravagant," I declare. "I want you to pay for me to attend an NBA game, court seats and all expenses covered. And not just any game. It has to be a game between the Lakers and Celtics at the Staples Center in L.A."

Waverly's eyes widen, clearly surprised by the magnitude of my request. She hesitates momentarily, her mind racing as she calculates the cost and logistics. It's a crazy request, one I'm sure she wasn't expecting. But to my surprise, a smile spreads across her face.

"All right," she answers. "I'll see what I can do."

I laugh, genuinely impressed by her willingness to accept my bold proposal. "Alright then. Deal?" I ask, holding out my hand to seal our agreement.

She reaches out and shakes my hand, her gaze fixed on mine. Feeling a sudden surge of self-consciousness, I look away and concentrate on the road ahead. We're not far from home now, just ten minutes. As we pull up beside my mother's car—who I know is already asleep, recovering from her day—I remember Liliana is staying with a friend, as she mentioned earlier. So the absence of her car comes as no surprise.

Without paying too much attention to Emery, I get out of the car and head straight for my house. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I insert the key into the lock, open the door, beckon her in, and then close it behind us. With the dimmest light on, I whisper to Emery not to make any noise. She obediently takes off her shoes and leaves them in the doorway, following me as I go upstairs. Knowing the house's layout well, I let her head for my sister's bedroom while I go for the bathroom to freshen up, brush my teeth and splash some water on my face. The film left me both entertained and mentally exhausted, as I couldn't help but indulge in creating various theories throughout.

Feeling refreshed after my brief routine, I approach my bedroom door but stop short when I see Waverly already inside. Instinctively, I shut the door behind me so that no noise would disturb my mother's sleep. I rush over to the woman rummaging in my wardrobe as if it were her own, and a mixture of confusion and disbelief comes over me.

Reacting quickly, I grab her wrist, silently urging her to back off before things degenerate into chaos. She meets my gaze with a puzzled expression, her eyes searching for an explanation.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I exclaim.

She turns to me, her expression defensive. "What? I'm just looking for a T-shirt to wear."

I sigh, trying to contain my annoyance. "Are you serious? Get out of my room!" I demand my patience wearing thin.

She removes her arm from my grip and glares at me before retrieving a T-shirt from the floor and hastily leaving the room. I don't bother trying to understand her actions, instead concentrating on restoring order to my meticulously organised space. With a resigned sigh, I start picking up the clothes she's thrown on the floor, putting them back in their rightful place.

Once everything is neatly arranged, I remove my own clothes and collapse onto my bed, seeking comfort in the embrace of sleep. Tomorrow holds a rich and eventful day in store for me, and I need to be well-rested to face it. Determined to erase Emery from my mind, I drift off to sleep, my thoughts travelling back to Zoya, her radiant smile etched in my mind and the possibility that maybe one day she'll accept that we're more than just friends.