THE SAME

Chapter three

"I'm soooooo beyond sorry - I am embarrassed by yesterday. That is not me."

Laure Lee, is that you?

"It is okay, I get comments all the time lately. The Covid situation and all that."

"It is not an excuse. I'm really sorry, I hope we can be friends."

It would be Samirah to mess up and apologise not even within twenty-four hours. She demanded in all her brattiness that Marcello let her apologise to his friend immediately. So as semi-hungover as I am, I've been dragged to meet a hungover Marcello and his hungover friend because a hungover Sam, wants to make it right, now. 

"This is hella awkward," Marcello commented as him and I stood observing from a distance.

"I knew it couldn't be good when I saw her taking those shots like it was a competition."

"It is so painful to watch this though Nay."

Then do something instead of whining?

"Sam," I exclaimed breaking her and the guy out of painful conversation, "what if you and Marcello get us all some breakfast if you want to make it up to us."

I could visibly see everyone breathe a deep sigh of relief, even the boy. Marcello almost left her behind as he could not get out of the house faster. Him and Samirah are not the type of people to go out in early mornings but today, you could have fooled me.

"Thanks," the guy said sitting next to me, "that was awful."

"It was worse watching it."

So much more.

"It's just that... I'm not used to this. People being malicious just because I'm Asian - I'm not even Chinese and it's just... constant."

Is he.... going to vent to me? God, please not this.

"Welcome to being treated like shit for no reason."

"Hopefully it isn't for long."

Like Miley said, it's the climb. Climbing a crumbling tower of shit.

"I'm Somchai," he said extending his hands with a kind smile, "and you?"

"Nayla," I offered shaking his hand, "Somchai sounds like it'd be some bomb ass tea."

"Is it because I am Asian?"

So I just saw Samirah apologise and drop an insensitive joke not even an hour apart. I'm an idiot.

"N-no. Chai like tea, you know. I thought it'd be funny I guess not," I fumbled getting shy and embarrassed.

And he burst out laughing.

"I'm not that sensitive," he managed to say after calming down, "I can still take a joke - I was a jock throughout college. There were plenty making jokes about my name."

"They used to call me 'Nala' and make references to finding my Simba," I reminisced with a small smile.

Because I am black. And from African descent.

"Kids can be mean."

"If you consider 18 year-olds kids, sure."

And when he squeezed my hand... wait he squeezed my hand. He's holding my hand. Someone squeeze me... oh, he just did.

"People say stupid things," he started, "and you just have to let it slide."

Why? Why can't I scream at them until they apologise?

"Stand up for yourself. I have a feeling you let shit slide a lot. If it makes you uncomfortable, you have to let them know. You give them an inch and they take a mile."

"And then risk getting called defensive and sensitive? No thank you, I'd rather act like it doesn't bother me."

Is that what you think about people who stand up for themselves? I see the type of person he is. A pushover. I hate people like that because that was me. Just smiling and nodding when people were hurting my feelings.

"Tell them it's defence of your pride."

He chuckled a bit shaking his head.

"They can say what they want about me," he smiled, "It's only a superficial cut, it stings but it doesn't scar."

So why is your smile so forced and sad?

"Anyways," he started clapping, "was that a 3 wishes by J Cole line?"

Oh... he knows the route to my heart.