way up • stephen curry [au]

ii. fire vs fire

Arzaya

I was really looking forward for lunch time, not because I'm hungry but because I have so much to tell Shay. So when I got the chance to see her, I immediately scurry towards our usual spot in the cafeteria.

"What's wrong?" she asks as I set down my apple. She must have noticed the furrowed brows I've been keeping since this morning.

I sigh, sitting across her. "I got paired with this asshole, Curry."

She looks at me like I grew another head. "So? Shouldn't you be—oh, never mind. I forgot you aren't like the rest of these hoes."

"I'm telling you, Shay. I'd rather fail that class than work with him everyday."

"Oh, would you now?" She displays a smirk, eyeing me warily.

Right. I wouldn't. I care about my grades a lot especially now that I'm trying to get into Ivy League schools.

I prop my chin in the palm of my hand and sigh as deep as the Mariana trench. "What should I do?"

Before Shay can open her mouth, Klay comes into view, giving her a peck on the cheek. "Hey, babe."

"Well, hello there, baby." She smiles brightly. You can see how her eyes gleamed at the mere sight of him.

Klay looks at me, then. "Hey, Arzaya. I heard you and Steph–"

"Don't remind her," Shay cut him off. "She's pretty upset about it."

Klay chuckles lightly. "Yeah, he seems pissed, too."

"I don't care about his feelings," I snap, but as upset as I am, I have no choice. "Klay? Can you please tell him to meet me at my house later? Come, like at five?"

"Are you giving him the greenlight?"

"What? No!" I exclaim louder than I expected. Both Klay and Shay find my reaction funny. "We just really need to work on this paper and I don't know how I'd get him to cooperate."

"Alright, Arz. I'll try to talk to him about it," Klay reassures with a smile. "But first you gotta find your chill, because fighting with fire with fire only makes things worse."

That was true, though. Nothing great comes out when Steph and I are both hotheaded. Actually, you'd see the worst.

"Thanks, Klay," I tell him in gratitude. "Tell him not to get late!"

--

"Mom?" I call, coming into the living room.

She looks up at me while helping my younger brother, Asher, get out of his big ass backpack. Then he looks at me and sticks his tongue out. I don't really know why that stupid kid is my brother.

"Yes, dear?"

"Someone might come over," I say, unsure of how to put it. "Uh, for a school-related stuff. So maybe we can do it in my room?"

"Which classmate is it? A girl or a boy?" she asks.

"The latter," I say, almost inaudibly.

"A boy? Oh dear, if you are dating someone you don't have to lie about it," she says quickly.

What? "Mom, no! Like, he's not...I don't...ew."

"Who is he?"

"It's Stephen, but I'm not—"