The Blind Date Catastrophe

Amara gently pushed the door open, expecting to find Nia curled under a blanket napping like she usually did after dinner. But to her surprise, soft sniffles filled the room

Nia sat cross-legged on her bed, eyes glued to the laptop screen, tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Oh my god! Are you crying?" Amara asked, stepping in quickly, concerned.

"It's so sweet," Nia said between sniffles, pointing dramatically at the screen where an animated couple was confessing under a cherry blossom tree. "He literally gave up his dream to stay by her side!"

Amara chuckled, shaking her head. "You're crying over cartoons again."

"They're not cartoons, they're emotionally mature animated narratives," Nia defended, grabbing a tissue and blowing her nose. "Also, have you had dinner?"

"Yes," Amara answered with a small laugh as she started digging through her wardrobe to change.

"Okay," Nia muttered, already dabbing her eyes again as she reached for the tissue box.

A few minutes later, Amara came out, fresh-faced, towel drying her hair. Nia had moved to her desk, her head resting on folded arms.

"Are you falling asleep mid-movie now?" Amara asked, raising an eyebrow.

But before she could get an answer, Nia suddenly jerked upright and patted the bed beside her. "Sit. Now."

Amara blinked. "What's going on?"

"I'm messed up," Nia said, lips pursed into a pout, her voice lower now—serious.

"What happened?" Amara asked, settling beside her, rubbing moisturizer into her hands.

Nia sighed dramatically. "Okay, so… remember Mira? She convinced me to go on a blind date last month because she had double-booked herself."

Amara narrowed her eyes. "Wait, you actually went?"

"I did," Nia admitted, "and guess who the guy turned out to be."

Amara paused mid-rub, raising a brow. "Don't tell me—"

"Professor Carter," Nia finished, burying her face in her hands.

Amara's hand froze mid-air. "You're joking."

"I wish I was." Nia leaned back, groaning. "The most awkward, humiliating evening of my life. And he... he just went along with it! Like it was totally normal. No reaction, no weirdness. Just... calm, polite, cool."

Amara stared. "That man is unshakeable."

Nia groaned. "Apparently, the guy I had a minor bike crash with during my first week here-"

"Yeah?"

Nia covered her face with both hands again. "That was also him. Professor Carter."

Amara blinked.

Nia said with a bitter laugh. "And now I've been skipping his classes for two weeks like a complete idiot."

Amara looked at her, stunned. "Wait, is that why you've been hiding during his lectures? You could've told me!"

"I know!" Nia leaned forward. "I mean, how is he so okay with it? Is he pretending it didn't happen? Or does he just not care?"

Amara sat silently for a moment, letting it sink in. Then she sighed, speaking gently, "Maybe he's just... mature. He knows it was an accident, and he doesn't want to make things awkward."

"Nia flopped back down on the bed with a groan. "Ughhh. Why is my life like a teenage soap opera?"

Amara patted her friend's shoulder. "Okay, here's what you're going to do. First—calm down. Second—stop skipping class. If he can be normal, you can be normal. Act like it never happened."

Nia crossed her arms. "Then why do I feel like I'm the only one dying of adwarkness?"

Amara smirked. "Because you're dramatic. And emotional. And possibly, maybe—just maybe—you liked him a little?"

Nia stood up suddenly and started pacing. "No. I mean, yes. I mean—I don't know. I might have a tiny… microscopic crush."

Amara smiled, but her tone turned serious. "Nia… he's a professor. That's dangerous territory. Even if you didn't know in the beginning, you do now. You have to be careful."

"I know," Nia said, deflating a little. "I just… I didn't expect to feel this confused. It's not like I even know him that well. But the way he just… doesn't make it weird—it's messing with my head."

Amara nodded slowly. "Then don't let it. If he's not making it a big deal, neither should you. Go to class. Be normal. Act cool."

"Act cool," Nia repeated like it was a foreign phrase.

"Yeah. And absolutely no more blind dates," Amara warned.

Nia raised her hand solemnly. "Sworn off. Mira owes me a lifetime of snacks for this."

They both laughed, the tension slowly fading.

"Okay, I'm gonna watch another episode," Nia declared, grabbing her laptop again. "You get some rest. I'll cry more quietly this time."

Amara flopped back onto her bed, grinning. "Try not to fall in love with the animated hero this time."

"No promises," Nia called back, already hitting play.

It was a crisp Sunday morning, sunlight pouring through the hostel window as Amara stood in front of the mirror, tying her hair up in a loose ponytail. She wore a light, cropped T-shirt with soft beige pants—comfortable yet put-together. Something about the day felt different. Maybe it was the weight of what she wasn't telling Nia.

She spritzed a little perfume and slipped on her sandals, just as Nia looked up from her bed with sleepy curiosity.

"Interview? What for?" Nia asked, stretching.

Amara blinked, caught off guard.

"Yes," she said quickly, then after a short pause added, "I'll tell you later."

Before Nia could press further, Amara grabbed her sling bag and flashed a quick smile. "Bye. See you!"

She rushed down the stairwell and made her way to the café where she worked part-time. The morning air was cool against her skin as she waited out front, heart pacing a little faster than usual.

At exactly 10 a.m., a sleek black car pulled up in front of the café. Kieran's car.

Without hesitation, Amara slipped inside.

But before the silence could settle, Kieran spoke, his voice calm but commanding.

"Can you hand me the bottle from the back seat?"

Amara blinked. "Huh?"

He tilted his head slightly toward the back. "There's a water bottle behind you. Toss it here."

"Oh—right." She fumbled for it, half-turning in the seat. Her fingers brushed against a few books and a jacket before she grabbed the bottle and passed it forward.

"Thanks," he said simply, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip.

Amara adjusted herself, a little flustered. She couldn't help but glance at him—dark shirt, sleeves casually rolled up, hair falling just perfectly. Why did he always look like he walked out of a magazine?

"You look... different," she said before she could stop herself.

He arched a brow but didn't turn to look at her. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I—" she cleared her throat, suddenly self-conscious. "Just different. In a not-bad way."

After a pause, Amara hesitated, then asked, "Is this your car?"

Kieran nodded, eyes still on the road. "Yeah."

"But where do you even keep it? I mean... if you're in the hostel…" she trailed off.

"I don't stay in the hostel," he replied, sparing her a quick glance. "I share an apartment with Max. Has a small parking space."

"Oh." Amara nodded, a bit surprised. That explained the sense of independence he always seemed to carry.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "That makes sense."

Another moment passed in silence, but this time it felt less awkward. The radio played something soft in the background, and Amara found herself relaxing—just a little.