Twisted Chances

10. Nia/Niko (edited)

Nia's pov

Something was seriously wrong with me that day.

Actually, scratch that. Something has been wrong with me for the entire week.

It's been seven whole days since that night—the night I went completely out of my mind and acted like the world's biggest idiot in front of everyone. Who does that? Who in their right mind barges in to disrupt a guy's date... a guy I had rejected, no less? A sane person? No. A normal person? Definitely not. Me? Apparently, yes.

And then, to make things worse, to sprinkle extra humiliation on top of my already embarrassing cake, I had to go ahead and call our outing after that disaster... our first date. Our first date?! God, what was I even thinking?

Nia Harper, you've officially lost it. Somebody check me into a clinic because clearly, I need help.

That's all I've been thinking about this past week, like a broken record on repeat. Every single day, every single night. It's starting to eat me alive. I keep zoning out in the middle of conversations, spacing out while helping Mom in the kitchen. I nearly added sugar to the daal yesterday, for God's sake. My studies? Forget about it. My focus? Shattered. My brain cells? All fried.

I keep telling myself I need to get a grip. That I need to lock my heart up and throw away the key because the last time I listened to it, I made a spectacular fool of myself. Who even does things like this? Who in their right mind—

But here's the problem. Every time I replay that night in my head, every time I try to convince myself it was a mistake, there's this tiny, annoying voice that whispers, What if it wasn't? What if it was right?

And that terrifies me.

Because if I admit that... if I admit that I actually like Niko Volkov, then I have to admit something even scarier. That he's doomed. Not by me, but by the two most dangerous men in my life: my dad and my brother.

Let's be real here. Dad would probably shoot him on sight. No warning, no hesitation, just straight up bang-bang until poor Niko stops breathing. And my brother? He wouldn't just help hide the body—he'd help Dad reload the gun. That's how protective they are. And if they knew what I've been thinking? Yeah, Niko's obituary would already be in the works.

So why? Why now? Why, after all these years of nothing, am I suddenly looking at him differently? Why am I suddenly thinking about his stupidly soft eyes and that smile that shouldn't make me feel warm but does? Why is it only after his confession that my heart decides to betray me like this?

Am I... thirsty? Is that it? Am I really that desperate for affection that the second a boy confesses, my brain short-circuits and I convince myself I like him back? That has to be it. Right? Right?!

God. I hate this.

Just as I'm spiraling deeper into my mess, my phone starts ringing. Camilla.

I swipe to answer, already bracing myself. "What's up?"

"Babe, have you seen Niko's Insta post?" Camilla's voice is sharp, urgent, like she's delivering bad news.

My stomach drops. "No?"

"Do it. Now. He's got a new friend. And that too... a female friend. I didn't even know about this."

A new friend? What is she even—

I don't even wait for her to finish. I open Instagram, go straight to his account, and then... my heart plummets to the floor.

It's Brittany.

Niko's "new friend" is Brittany.

What?!

How? Why? When? Last I checked, things between them ended—unsuccessfully, messily, thank God. So how the hell is she back? What am I supposed to do with this information?