Laced in Your Ruin

Chapter [III]

Inara's POV

The first day of college—the day every freshie dreams of. And let me tell you, I was ready. So was Siya. We had been talking about this day for months—well, more like giggling about the hot boys we were going to meet. We were about to enter a world where no one knew us, and the possibilities were endless. And if there were hot boys to be ogled at while we snuck in all the gossip... well, we were in business.

The Metro ride was a breeze. Thirty minutes of us shrieking with excitement and discussing the latest gossip from school to school. Neighbors, classmates, best friends—call us what you will. We were like peas in a pod, except we were both convinced we'd be so much cooler in college. Of course, that might have been wishful thinking.

As the train screeched to a halt at our stop, we finally reached the college campus. And wow, talk about epic. My eyes went wide as I gawked at the pristine buildings, lush greenery, and, of course, the hunky seniors scattered across the campus like walking gods. I could already feel the heat of a thousand fantasies beginning to burn. Yes, college was going to be amazing.

And then, disaster struck. Siya, my partner in crime, wasn't watching where she was going and ended up plowing straight into someone. Guess who? A senior. And of course, she fell flat on top of him. Lucky guy, right? Not.

There we were, my best friend on top of a guy she barely knew, her hair stuck in his leather jacket's button. She tugged on it like she was trying to pull out a stubborn knot, and I could practically hear the guy's internal thoughts as he just stared at her in disbelief. But then, to my surprise, he helped her up, like some sort of polite gentleman. Oh, brother. Why does it always have to be the polite ones? And of course, my best friend was red as a tomato, stammering apologies.

Just as we thought it couldn't get worse, a senior girl appeared from nowhere and started accusing Siya of "ruining her perfect outfit." The audacity! But before I could stop her, Siya—sweet, innocent Siya—yelled back at her. I had to physically hold her back from taking this into the "you-slap-my-face-I'll-slap-your-face" zone. There was a lot of yelling, and I was just here for the drama.

The senior girl stormed off, but the guy? He turned to Siya with that "Are-you-alright?" line. And boom—the heartbreak hit. Siya looked at him like he was the last lifeboat on the Titanic. Seriously? Over some polite guy who was probably already bored by her? This wasn't good.

And if things weren't confusing enough, Siya suddenly went all quiet on me. Quiet as a mouse when that guy looked her way. Oh, no. This was going to be one of those days.

We shuffled to our first class, with me trailing behind like a shadow. Why did I have to be the only sane person here? I dragged my exhausted body to the classroom after what felt like three years of back-to-back lectures, which was more like an initiation for the new batch of freshers. By the end of it, I was completely drained. And I could tell Siya was just as wiped out as me.

It was cafeteria time. Hallelujah. The perfect place for a little post-orientation lunch... or, in my case, a massive burger to shut up my grumbling stomach. We walked in and took in the surroundings. The cafeteria was like the dream dining area I always fantasized about. After reading Harry Potter as a kid, I always thought that every school should have a cool cafeteria, and, well, here I was—living the dream. Finally.

But wait—what was this? Sitting at a table, looking like a lone wolf, was a guy wearing a black hoodie and headphones. And let me tell you—he was handsome. Not just any handsome, mind you. This guy looked like he'd been sculpted by the gods themselves. His face was sharp enough to cut glass, and his posture screamed mysterious. What the hell was he doing sitting by himself? Introvert?

In a way, I was mesmerized. Who wouldn't be? But we were starving, so I dragged Siya to a seat in the corner. Even though I knew, deep down, that my mind was definitely wandering toward the mysterious stranger. Sigh.

And then, out of nowhere, all attention turned to the most bizarre scene I've ever witnessed in a cafeteria. Enter Her Royal Highness—a pretty brunette in a ridiculously short silver dress and obnoxiously loud red high heels. She clicked her way toward the table in front of the handsome hoodie-wearer. And let's be real—every step she took felt like a drumroll.

She stopped right in front of him, and I could feel the tension building in the air. Was this really happening? Was she seriously about to do what I thought she was going to do?

"I've been watching you for a month now, and straight to the point, I like you," she said with so much confidence, she practically had "Queen Bee" written all over her. "Let's date. We could be the hottest couple in this university."

Uhh... what?

The whole cafeteria held its breath. All eyes on him. What would he say? What would he do? My heart was racing—Was she really this bold?

And then, as if I had just witnessed the most mind-blowing thing in my life, he straight-up rejected her. No hesitation, no hesitation, no stuttering. "Are you done? I'm not interested. Don't waste both our time," he said, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

What?!

The girl—who, by the way, was probably the epitome of high-maintenance—huffed in annoyance and stormed off like a two-year-old whose favorite toy had been taken away. But wait, the best part was yet to come.

Someone in the back of the room whispered, "Fifty-seventh."

And just like that, bam. I realized something mind-boggling. This guy had rejected fifty-seven girls before her. Who was this guy?!

The mysterious guy—his name was Ibrahim, not that I was super invested in remembering it—stood up like he was done with the world's stupidity and walked out. But for a split second, I wondered if he was just going to apologize to the girl. But no. No such thing. He disappeared, and the whole cafeteria just... relaxed. The tension? Gone. And I was left with my jaw on the floor.

"Stefanie's the fifty-seventh girl Ibrahim rejected. Who's gonna be next? I want it to be some brainless desperate fresher," I heard the annoying girl from this morning say as she threw a pointed glance at me.

Oh, that's adorable. But no thanks.

I stood up to head to the restroom, trying to process what I'd just witnessed. And then—boom—I heard a voice. A familiar voice. Ibrahim, of course. And he was talking on the phone. From the corner of the corridor, I could hear him yelling at someone, "I'm busy, can't come. It's your anniversary, mother, not mine."

What? Did he just...?

But wait—what was that? Qays?

Oh no. Did I just overhear a nickname? Was this his alter ego? "Qays"... What kind of name was that? I couldn't help myself; I was too intrigued.

That's when he turned around and saw me. Staring at him, caught in the act.

"Uh... Hey?" I fumbled.

"What's with the manners, huh?" he barked at me. "Why were you eavesdropping? Who told you to?"

"Why would I listen to your conversation, Qays?" I retorted, not backing down. If he thought I was scared of his temper, he had another thing coming.

"What did you call me?" He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in irritation.

"Qays," I said again, unable to resist the temptation of teasing him. "What's wrong? Is it too cute for you?"

His face turned even darker, and before I could even blink, he started coming toward me, shouting in rage, "You little—"

Oh boy. This was going to be interesting.