Saturday Night Rescue

Chapter 2

Tina's POV

Weeks had passed since university started, and the lectures were getting tougher by the day. Mr. Roderick wasn't exaggerating when he said this course would be brutal. I could already hear his voice echoing in my mind. "This is not high school. This will break you before it makes you." Well, congratulations, Mr. Roderick. I am indeed broken.

I sighed, staring at my untouched dinner yet another takeout box sitting on my table, its greasy aroma filling the air. I missed my mom's cooking. No amount of fancy seasoning or extra cheese could compete with the warmth of home cooked food. These days, my meals were less of a dining experience and more of a survival strategy. If I keep this up, I might as well start a food blog called "The Fast and the Flavorless."

University life was a rollercoaster, keeping me on my toes every single day. Adjusting to a new lifestyle, new people, and a new city wasn't easy, but I was managing. Barely. Staying away from my family was hard, but Trisha and Veronica made things bearable. If anything, they were the only reason I hadn't completely lost my mind yet.

Trisha, with her boundless energy and never-ending enthusiasm, was like a human golden retriever. Always buzzing, always cheerful. She had this magnetic aura that made it impossible to be in a bad mood around her. Her tall figure, fair complexion, and long, sleek black hair made her stand out, but it was her personality that truly made her shine. She had this way of lighting up a room, even when no one asked her to.

And then there was Veronica. Quiet, observant, and mysterious. She had hazelnut eyes that held entire stories within them, yet she spoke in riddles or sometimes, not at all. She blended into the background so effortlessly that sometimes I wondered if she did it on purpose. It was as if she wanted to be present but unseen.

I was lucky to have them. Even if a small part of me was still wary. Trisha reminded me of someone I once cherished, someone who taught me that what we hold dear can often disregard us. A painful truth wrapped in beautiful memories. But surely history wouldn't repeat itself, right?

Right?

I shook my head, pushing the thought aside. It was Saturday evening, and I sat on the balcony, watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of orange and pink. My favorite time of the day. The golden hour, where everything felt a little softer, a little dreamier.

Sunsets always made me think. Sometimes, they inspire me to remind me that no matter how dark it gets, there's always another sunrise. Other times, they left me questioning everything like, why do we shine so brightly only to be conquered by darkness?

Or, more importantly, why did my thoughts keep circling back to him?

One promise made only to be broken. The one person who had once meant everything.

And now, a new face has entered my life. The boy I met on the first day of university. He looked so much like him, it was unnerving. The resemblance was almost cruel. I hadn't even realized it until now. And the worst part? I had been an absolute menace to him. The poor guy was just trying to ask for information, and I had ignored him like he was a telemarketer.

Why am I like this?

Just as I was about to spiral into another overdramatic inner monologue, my phone buzzed. Trisha.

I answered, and before I could even say hello, her voice burst through the speaker.

"I am alone and doing nothing. Can we hang out or go somewhere, please?" she whined dramatically.

I smirked. "Hello to you too."

"Sorry, sorry! It's just... this boring Saturday is killing me. I've been staring at the ceiling for thirty minutes trying to decide what to do. But nothing seems interesting, so I called you. You're my last hope."

I wanted to lie. I wanted to say I was busy. My past friendships had left me with enough emotional baggage to fill an airport luggage claim. But Trisha was different. She wasn't just looking for company. She was offering companionship.

So, after a pause, I caved. "Umm, no, not really. Actually, we're both on the same boring boat stuck in the middle of nowhere. I've also been sitting here, watching the sunset and deciding what to do next."

"Perfect! Since I'm the only one with a TV in my apartment, why don't you and V come over? We can watch movies, eat junk food, and have our first girls' sleepover!" She practically screamed into the phone.

A sleepover.

For a moment, I felt like a kid again. Giddy at the thought of staying up all night, watching movies I wasn't supposed to, and eating way too much sugar. Except now, we didn't have to sneak around to watch R-rated films.

"I'm in."

"Great! Get here quickly! And don't forget your PJs!"

She hung up before I could respond. I stared at my phone, shaking my head with a chuckle. This girl is impossible.

I hopped in the shower, throwing on a knee-length black dress and a white button-up shirt. I packed my nightwear, grabbed a bag of popcorn, and slipped into my sneakers.

Excitement buzzed in my chest as I stepped out into the cool evening air.

The only downside? Trisha's apartment was an hour away if I walked. And thanks to the universe's sense of humor, the elevator in my building was still broken. Living on the tenth floor had never felt more like a punishment.

After speed-walking down the stairs like my life depended on it, I turned on Google Maps. My sense of direction was so terrible, I was convinced I could get lost in my own apartment complex. Thank God for technology.

As I walked through the dimly lit streets, a shiver ran down my spine. The city at night had a different kind of energy. There was something both thrilling and eerie about it. I clutched my bag tighter, acutely aware of my own footsteps.

If Shawn knew I was walking alone at night, he'd have a full-blown meltdown. Knowing him, he'd probably send me a detailed PowerPoint titled "Why You Should Never Leave the House After 6 PM: A Presentation by Your Overprotective Brother."

I spotted a group of teenage girls outside a bar, their excitement palpable as they giggled and waited to be let in.

Ah, to be young and hopeful.

I had never gone to a nightclub before. Dad had been way too strict. But looking back, I wasn't mad about it. His protectiveness had steered me away from a lot of bad decisions. And here I am now living life on my own terms.

Being in my twenties felt like an odd middle ground. Some people my age were already thinking about careers, marriage, and mortgages. Meanwhile, here I was, getting excited about a sleepover.

But maybe that was okay. Maybe my mother was right. There was no rush to grow up.

As I put in my earbuds, my favorite playlist started playing. The only regret? The person who had made it for me.

But that's the thing about songs. They have a beginning, a middle, and an end. You replay your favorite parts, but eventually... you move on.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time for me to do the same.

Trisha's POV

I looked around the apartment. It was silent. Too silent. The kind of silence that pressed down on my chest, making my heartbeats echo in the emptiness, each thud louder than the last. Like the steady toll of a funeral bell. The quiet used to be my solace, a luxury I had once craved. But now, it was unbearable. A heavy, suffocating presence that wrapped around me like invisible chains.

I could feel the fear bubbling up inside me, slow and creeping, poisoning my thoughts. What if they find out? What if they see right through me?

I had already invited Tina and Veronica over, and now all I could do was pray. Please, don't judge me. Please, don't ask questions I can't answer.

My fingers curled into fists as I scanned the expansive space once more. It was too perfect. Too polished. The gleaming marble floors reflected the chandelier's cold light, the velvet furniture was untouched, as if no one truly lived here. And in a way, no one did. This wasn't my home. This wasn't me.

I swallowed hard. This apartment was the kind of place where people with six figure salaries lived, where their laughter echoed in spacious hallways and expensive perfume lingered in the air. Not people like me. Not an international student, not a boarder scraping by, not someone who once shared a single bathroom with four other people, fighting for mirror space before school.

How did I end up here?

A bitter laugh threatened to escape my lips. I knew the answer. I knew exactly how I got here. But admitting it even to myself felt like carving open a wound I had no strength to stitch back up.

My entire family could fit into this apartment and never bump into each other. Back in India, five of us crammed into a tiny two-bedroom home, always tripping over shoes, nudging each other for space at the dinner table. The noise... God, the noise. I used to complain about it. The chaos of morning bathroom battles, Mom shouting at me to help with the chores, my sisters bickering over clothes.

I had wanted to escape so badly. I wanted distance, freedom, a life where I wasn't constantly needed.

And now?

Now, I wanted it all back. I wanted my mother's nagging, my father's tired but warm gaze, even the petty fights with my sisters. I wanted home. But home was an entire ocean away, and I was stuck here trapped in a life I had never truly chosen.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to remember why I was here.

I chose this, didn't I? I worked hard for this. Top of my class. A scholarship. The dream of becoming a surgeon hanging just within reach. But dreams don't always come true. Especially when your life is no longer yours to control.

I did this for my father. That thought was my anchor. He carried so much on his shoulders, and I had promised myself that I'd help him. That I wouldn't let him struggle alone. I took that job at the department store to pay my own fees, to ease just a fraction of his burden. I had done everything right.

But then he came.

My stomach twisted. My fingers dug into my arms as shame and fury warred inside me. Why did I let this happen?

I didn't want this life. The luxurious apartment, the illusion of wealth was a gilded cage. A lie wrapped in silk and gold. Everyone must think I'm some spoiled rich girl, some privileged princess who's never known hardship.

If only they knew.

But they couldn't. No one could.

Joe's POV

The weather was changing day by day, becoming colder and colder. Normally, I liked this kind of weather. It was perfect for curling up under the warmth of blankets but today, it felt more like a constant reminder of how hard it was to drag myself out of bed. It wasn't even about the cold as much as it was about the comfort of my bed, the warm cocoon that was hard to leave. But thank God it was Saturday, so I could afford an extra hour of sleep.

I glanced at the clock on my phone. Half an hour left. A small wave of relief washed over me. Some Instagram notifications had popped up on my screen, and I absentmindedly started scrolling through them. I followed back a few accounts, mostly girls I recognized from university. A couple were followed by Blaire, that girl who seemed to have taken a sudden interest in me.

She wasn't my type, but I couldn't help but feel curious. I glanced at her profile again, wondering what it was about her that made her stand out to me now.

Stop it, I chided myself. Just chill.

I slid the phone under my pillow and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to grab a few more minutes of sleep before my alarm went off.

But, of course, I should've known better.

"Namaste!" Jia's voice rang out, followed by the soft sound of chanting music coming from the balcony. She was at it again.

I groaned, rolling over to check the time. Eight o'clock. I still had a whole hour until I needed to head to the café. Perfect. But my sister? She didn't need sleep. She had yoga to do.

I dragged myself out of bed and made my way to the balcony, still half-dazed from sleep. There she was, contorted in some weird position, balancing on one leg while the other was stretched across her body in a way that made my joints ache just looking at her.

"Namaste," I said, stretching my arms out in a mock prayer gesture.

She lost her balance and tumbled down with a soft thud.

"Ouch," she winced in pain, glaring up at me. "Why do you have to do that? You scared me!" She sat up, glaring at me, looking more annoyed than hurt.

I couldn't help but laugh. "It's just your big brother trying to make your yoga routine more interesting," I teased, strolling over to the table where she kept her smoothie. I took a sip, and she shot me a look that was a mix of horror and rage.

"It's for me," she said, her voice laced with irritation.

"Well, you know the saying, 'sharing is caring,' so care for me." I grinned, taking another sip.

She stared at me like I'd just stolen her puppy.

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it works," she muttered, rolling her eyes before going back to her position.

"How do you do this every morning? What's with this new-found motivation? Is it a boy?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the café?" Jia shot back, not missing a beat, her tone sarcastic.

"Touché," I said, inhaling the crisp morning air. It felt sharp against my nose, as though the world was waking up with me, and I was being gently nudged along. "This is what I love about summer," I added, leaning against the railing and letting the cool breeze wash over me. Even though the sun was already halfway up, there was still a bite to the air. I was warm in my long-sleeve nightshirt, but I could see the faint sheen of sweat on Jia's forehead.

She had been a fitness freak since she was little. Walking with Dad, playing soccer with my friends, and now she is deep into yoga and Pilates, always looking to be an adult, though she is still a teenager at heart.

"See you when I see you, little one," I said with a mock bow, folding my hands together in a Namaste gesture.

She scowled, making an exaggerated face as she adjusted her position.

"Stop calling me that!" she snapped. "I'm not a little kid anymore!"

I laughed, not even feeling the slightest bit guilty. "You're always gonna be my little one. That's just how it is."

She growled under her breath, and I felt a brief surge of pride. I knew it annoyed her, but it felt right. No matter how old she got, she would always be the little sister who looked up to me and no matter how grown up she tried to be, that wouldn't change.

I turned away, heading inside to get ready for the day, but as I walked back into my room, the thought of her yoga on the balcony made me smile. Despite the occasional sibling fights, I couldn't deny how proud I was of her.

The last couple of years have been tough. Dad's accident, having to take over the business while still in school, and that heartbreak I'd never really gotten over. I'd been forced into adulthood before I was ready, and somewhere along the way, I had lost myself. But things had started to fall into place. Dad had fully recovered, and he took back over the business. I started university, and while it was hard at first, I found my rhythm after a month.

Between hanging out with friends and helping Mom with the café, I finally felt like I was getting back to being myself. Sure, there were still things that weighed on me, but I had friends and family who had my back. It wasn't perfect, but it was working.

My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the screen to see Eric's name flashing.

"Yo, what's up, man?" I answered.

"Yo, bro! Party at my place tonight. My parents are away," Eric said, excitement practically radiating from the phone.

"Hell yeah, I've been waiting for this!" I said, already feeling the tension of the week lifting. "What's the plan?"

"Grab some beer, watch the game. Oh, and bring Calvin, he added."

"Okay cool, I'll see you there," I said, hanging up with a grin.

This was exactly what I needed. A break. A chance to party, to watch football with my buddies, to let loose. It had been way too long since I'd had some real fun. The last two years had been nothing but responsibility and emotional weight, but tonight? Tonight was all about me and the boys.

By afternoon I finished up my work for the café, handed the paycheck to Mom, and made sure everything was good to go before heading out. I stopped by the liquor store to grab beer on my way.

As I was walking back to my car with two cases in my hands, I saw a familiar face in the parking lot. I froze for a second. It was her. The girl from university. The one who had been so rude to me on the first day.

I almost kept walking, but something about the way she was standing under the streetlight, her phone glowing in her hand, made me hesitate. She looked... different. More real somehow. Like she wasn't just playing a part, but genuinely searching for something. I wasn't sure what, but it was as if she was trying to figure out what happiness meant for her, alone in the world.

I couldn't help but feel a small pang of curiosity. I wanted to ask if she needed a lift, but I wasn't about to make it awkward. We barely knew each other, and I wasn't trying to get into her business.

Still, I watched her as she walked away, the shadows of the night slowly swallowing her up. Maybe one day our paths would cross again, and maybe then I'd understand her a little better. Until then, I'd let the road decide when it was time for us to meet again.

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"I just knew I liked him when I was walking like a lady, when I started taking small steps so I can admire him a little longer all to pretend we're strangers."