A Eternal Love

chapter 2

My best friend, Jeeya, was talking to her—the bitch, Stella.

Most of my friends think it’s normal for me to hate someone. After all, I’m the “bad bitch,” the “dark feminine,” and—let’s be honest—half the people in college are lowkey scared of me. But at home? I’m the baby. The good girl. The polite one who hugs everyone and loves everyone. My family would never believe how sharp my tongue gets with Stella. Even my dad is shocked when I’m mean to her. But trust me—she deserves every bit of it.

It’s like she’s constantly trying to steal something that’s mine. I don’t know what exactly, but I feel it every time she opens her mouth.

And now? Time to interrupt their little bonding moment.

Mia: “Hey, bitch.”
Jeeya: “Hi, dude! How’s it going?”
Mia: “Great. 😒”

She knows that “bitch” isn’t aimed at her, but Jeeya always plays it safe since Stella is her family friend.

Stella: “Hi Mia. Rebecca told me you were late, so you couldn’t join us in the car.”
Mia: “Yep. Dad dropped me off.”
Stella: “We missed you! We had so much fun.”
Mia: 😌

Liar. She wasn’t missing me—she was thrilled to get alone time with my sister. On her mission to steal her. If she wants a sister so bad, she should ask her mom to give her one—not mine.

Stella: “Maybe next time.”
Mia: “Yep.”
…and by “yep,” I mean “never in this lifetime.”

Stella: “Anyway, I’ve got to go. Class is starting. Bye.”
Mia: “Finally. Thank God.”
Jeeya: 😹
Stella: “Did you say something?”
Jeeya: “Have a nice day!”
Stella: 😒
Mia: 😎

Stella leaves. Peace restored.

Jeeya: “Let’s go. Aren’t you getting late?”
Mia: “Nope. Same classes today, but mine don’t start until twelve. And don’t try distracting me—you know what’s coming.”
Jeeya: “Yeah, yeah. ‘Why were you talking to that bitch?’”
Mia: “Don’t mock me.”
Jeeya: “Like?”
Mia: “Like my mimicry.”
Jeeya: “Harry’s better at it anyway.” 🤣
Mia: “…Fine. You win. Let’s go.”

We push through the hallway jungle—my “animal kingdom.”

Jeeya: “Seen Harry?”
Mia: “He texted—said he’d meet us at the cafeteria.”
Jeeya: “Cool. Let me grab something from my locker first.”
Mia: “Okay.”

It’s the first day of my final semester. B.Sc. in Botany—one more year and I’m free. Jeeya and Harry are in Chemistry. We met in first semester, passed each other’s vibe check, and the rest is history.

Jeeya: “Uh-oh. Look who’s coming.”
Mia: “Hide me.”
Jeeya: “Where? In my bra?”
Mia: “Too small. Won’t fit.”
Jeeya: 😒
Mia: 😘

Here comes Jacob. Captain of the football team, campus golden boy, my classmate, and unfortunately—Stella’s friend.

Jacob: “Hey Jeeya. Hey Mia.”
Jeeya: “Hi! How are you?”
Jacob: “Good. Heading to practice—we’ve got a big match next month.”
Jeeya: “You’ll crush it, as always.”
Jacob: “Hope so. What about you two?”
Jeeya: “Same as always—cafeteria, class, home.”
Jacob: “And you, Mia?”
Mia: “Nothing special.”
Jacob: “If you’re free, come watch practice. We’d love to have an audience.”
Jeeya: “We’d love to!”
Mia: “Sorry. I don’t sit under the sun. We don’t get along.”
Jacob: “Another time, then.”
Jeeya: “You broke the poor boy’s heart. At least try being nice.”
Mia: “That was me being nice.”

At my locker, I find… an envelope. Inside? A heliotrope flower.

Creepy? Maybe for you. But for me? Normal. I’ve been getting flowers like this since I was a kid. Different flowers, different meanings, different promises. Always left in my room or my locker. This one means everlasting love.

Jeeya: “Oh my God, another flower? So romantic! I’ve never even gotten one.”
Mia: “It’s creepy.”
Jeeya: “Then why do you keep them?”
Mia: “Because it’s my creepy thing. 😌”
Jeeya: “You’re weird.”
Mia: “And that’s why we’re best friends.”
Jeeya: 😝

No one knows about the flowers. Not even Jeeya. And I plan to keep it that way… until I find out who’s sending them.

Jeeya: “Ever wonder who it is?”
Mia: “What’s the point? If he wanted me to know, he’d sign his name.”
Jeeya: “Maybe he wants you to figure it out.”
Mia: “Then he should’ve sent a clue, not a flower.”
Jeeya: “Fair point. Got your stuff?”
Mia: “Yep. Let’s go—Harry’s waiting.”

The cafeteria is unusually empty today. We scan the tables and spot Harry—sitting with Rye, Jacob’s friend.

Jeeya: “Perfect. Time to give him his present.”
Mia: “What present?”
Jeeya: “Patience. You’ll see.”

She sneaks up, pulls out a plastic spider, and tosses it at him.

Harry: “WHAT THE—?!”
Jeeya: 🤣 “Happy present!”
Harry: “It’s not my birthday!”
Jeeya: “I know. Just felt like gifting you something.”
Harry: “This gift nearly killed me.”
Jeeya: “But it was funny.” 🤣🤣
Harry: “I hate you both.”
Jeeya: “No, you don’t.”

Rye: “Hey, guys.”
Mia & Jeeya: “Hey.”
Rye: “Gotta run to practice. See you later.”
All: “Bye.”

Harry turns to us, fuming.
Harry: “You embarrassed me in front of him!”
Mia: “Yeah, not cool.”
Jeeya: “Come on, you were laughing a minute ago.”
Mia: “Still. Don’t do that in front of his crush.”
Harry: “He’s not my crush. And I’m straight. STRAIGHT. How many times do I have to say it?”
Mia: “Then why were you blushing?”
Harry: “I wasn’t! We were having a serious discussion until you two ruined it.”
Mia: “Sure. Serious discussion with pink cheeks.”
Harry: “Think what you want. Doesn’t change facts.”
Jeeya: “Relax, she’s joking.”
Mia: “So, what was this ‘serious discussion’?”
Harry: [sighs] “Fine. It was supposed to be a surprise… I’m joining the football team.”
Mia: “WHAT?! No! Why?”
Jeeya: “That’s awesome!”
Mia: “You’re only happy because now you’ll get into matches without an invite.”
Jeeya: “Rude. I actually love football.”
Harry: “No, you love Jacob.”
Jeeya: 🙄
Mia: “And you hate football. And Jacob.”
Harry: “I don’t hate him. He’s my cousin. He’s just… bossy.”
Jeeya: “I love bossy.” 😉
Harry: “Ew. Gross.”
Mia: “Harieee.”
Harry: “Later. Let’s move before we’re late.”
Mia: “Fine. But this conversation isn’t over.”

As we walk, I watch him. Harry’s a little soft, a little sensitive. I know he’s gay, even if he doesn’t. Or maybe he does, but his mom is too homophobic to let him accept it. She pushes him to be someone he isn’t. To play football. To act like Jacob.

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he really is straight. But one thing I know—he hates football.

Oh God. Please save this poor soul.