Friend or...?

~Nariya Patel~

With determined strides, I navigate through the sea of jubilant faces, all captivated by the relief of our concluded exams. Despite their infectious excitement, I find myself unable to fully share in their joy. Exams were not the sole obstacles hindering my teenage life. In the past weeks, my concerns extended beyond academic challenges, including the ominous specter of an unsettling subject. Moreover, the looming threat of unknown individuals pursuing me and my family cast a shadow over my existence.

Unaware of the true intentions behind these menacing figures, Alexie took it upon himself to act as my guardian. He insisted on accompanying me until he deemed it safe for me to traverse the paths from my college to my part-time job and eventually back home alone. The weight of these dual challenges—academic and personal—added a layer of complexity to an already demanding period in my life.

I let out a weary sigh as I head straight for my locker, I discovered that the "Unlucky subject" for this term turned out to be Business Statistics, not Tableau as I had anticipated. Thanks to the demands of this institution, I found myself running on a mere three hours of sleep. Another sigh escapes my lips as I crack my knuckles, acknowledging that despite the two months of impending vacation, a crucial task awaits me.

Every student is required to clear out their lockers of any outdated books or printouts to make room for the new materials of the upcoming semester. While the norm here is to perform this task after vacations, just before the commencement of new classes, it's not only impractical to postpone such a responsibility, but many seniors have experienced receiving less for their old books due to the surplus the college store accumulates during that period. Not that those privileged enough to attend this institute would be concerned about a few extra pennies, but I wasn't like everyone else. From the beginning, I've been meticulous about getting the full value of every penny I invested at the start of the semester, or at least something close to it.

Unlocking my locker, my eyes narrowed as they fell upon a pristine neon envelope placed atop the stack of books inside. 'Odd,' I thought, glancing around to see if other students had received similar envelopes—a sort of "All the best for the future" or "well done" card from the institute or its teachers. Yet, to my surprise, there were none.

Shaking my head, I tucked the mysterious letter into my bag. The crowd was growing denser, and I had more pressing matters at hand. Being a savvy negotiator, it was imperative for me to reach the store before anyone else. Timing was key to securing the best deal, as the store owner often adjusted prices based on the initial influx of book sales. In this ever-changing economic landscape, even for books, there were factors like inflation and interest rates to consider.As a business major, it was imperative to consider all these nuances, and I, for one, made sure to do just that.

Sorting through the books and notes, I began categorizing them into two boxes: one for the materials I might need in the future and another for those destined for sale. As I progressed, halfway through the task, a notification popped up on my cell—a message from Alexie: "Running late, wait for me in the cafe."

Responding with a simple "Okay," I returned to my task. By now, the halls were filled with students being ushered out by teachers and nuns alike. Gruffing, I picked up my box labeled "Sell" and navigated my way through the crowd towards the store. If my assumption held true, most people delayed selling their books right away. However, many juniors were always eager to purchase books in advance, creating a surplus demand disequilibrium. This worked perfectly for me, as I could sell at a higher price right away.

A smirk forms on my lips as I internally high-five myself, eyeing the long line at the cash register labeled "Purchase" and not a single soul in front of the one labeled "Sell." Making my way confidently to the front, I nod in victory towards Vicky, the owner of the register, only to receive a grumbling frown from him.

"Alright, Vicky," I say cockily, "I can be gentle with you, or we can get rough." With that, I place the books on his desk with a satisfying thud.

Fifteen minutes later, I walked out of the doors with a victorious smirk on my face and an additional two hundred dollars in my purse. I had no intention of purchasing the books right away; instead, I planned to wait a few weeks into the semester. It was the perfect time to catch a poor senior who had forgotten the optimal selling time and ended up with a dismal offer from Vicky. That was precisely when I would strike, offering them a slightly higher price and pocketing a profit of 150%. Call me a haggler if you want, but I consider myself thrifty, understanding that today's small gains could accumulate into substantial amounts later.

In my confident strides, I made my way towards the cafe. Unbeknownst to me, I accidentally bumped into a girl just outside the college gates, causing her stack of books to topple over as we collided. Instantly startled, I apologized to her repeatedly as we both bent down to pick up the scattered books from the ground.

"It's okay," she beamed a smile at me, her perfectly white teeth enhancing her radiant expression as I looked into her green eyes. We both got up as I helped her and apologized once again, "I'm so sorry once again."

"No, no, it's okay! Seriously!" Her words were genuine as she extended her palm towards me. "Hey, my name is Esther."

Taking her hand, I smiled at her. "Hello, I'm Nariya."

"So, are you a senior as well?" she inquired.

"Ah, ye—" However, my response was abruptly cut off as, in that instant, someone snatched Esther's bag, and she shrieked in horror. "Oh my god! Someone catch him! That bag has my mother's last picture!"

On its own, my body moved, my legs thudding to the rhythm of the thief. The pain from the earlier collision seemed to have vanished, and I felt light as a feather as I ran after him, shouting, "Stop, you thief!" Somewhere in the distance, I could hear Esther running, but her pace was much slower.

The man ran, huffing, and we had almost covered a kilometer. My own energy levels were dipping low, and I wondered how far this guy could even run. Gruffing, I gritted my teeth, only to scream one more time, "Stop, you asshole!"

Slowly, my own speed reduced, the blood pumping hard against my chest. I was at my limit when, in a thunderous speed, someone effortlessly surpassed me. Startled, I looked at the quickly distancing figure—a slender body with strong legs and short hair, I noted. As if their speed pumped adrenaline into me, I quickened my pace as well. Eventually, all three of us ended up in an abandoned park, at least they both did until, huffing for air, I reached the place.

My eyes widened as I saw the thief pull out a knife in front of the other person. I wanted to scream for them to let it go; no matter how valuable a photo was, it wasn't worth the life of another. But before I could, this other person swiftly snatched it away from the thief, kicking his rear in the process. Amazed, I remained glued to my spot as I noticed the thief running off, abandoning the bag.

Bending down, the person dusted off the bag and proceeded to hand it to me. That's when I noticed that this person, who might seem like a young boy from a distance, was actually a young girl. Her slim and athletic frame might fool someone into thinking otherwise, but up close, her cute Asian features cleared up any misunderstandings. Bowing a bit, she made her exit, and it wasn't until she moved away that I realized I had forgotten to thank her.

Still gaping like a fish, I wondered who that was. It wasn't until I heard the panting voice of Esther from far back, "Oh, I can't thank you enough," she cried, hugging me tightly. "This bag, it..." She sniffed against my shoulders, "My mother's last picture."

Slowly, I patted her back to calm her down. "You're welcome, but it wasn't me who got the bag back," I explained. She gave me a quizzical look, so I continued, "That was another girl..."

Soon, we parted ways, agreeing to meet as friends in the next semester as we exchanged contacts. Rubbing my arms in pain, I stopped when I saw a worried man pacing in front of the cafe. "Alexie!" I waved at him a bit uncertainly as he glared at me, making his way towards me.

"What happened?!" he frowned, taking in my messed-up appearance.

Laughing a bit, I recounted all that had occurred, only to receive a sigh from him. "Nari, what if that man had hurt you? What if this mysterious girl didn't show up? What if, worse, those people from before tried to kidnap you?!"

I bit my lip, looking down. He was right—my heroism was not more important than my own life. But the surge in me at that time, even I can't explain it. It was as if my body moved on its own.

Seeing my dejected face, he sighed. "Okay, let's get you a hot chocolate for your heroism. And then we have to go home; we have guests coming over." Nodding, I chirped in happiness as we made our way inside the cafe.