Better Luck in Next Life

Chapter 3. Aisha

This wasn't the most embarrassing, especially compared to my earlier days. It doesn't personally affect me. Martin once said that men need to be shaken to their veins, so they can't take their eyes off you.

I took a deep breath and noted down my number on his car. Then I knocked on his window. He rolled it down, and I said, "If you dare, don't call me." Another flip of my hair, and I walked away.

He took it too seriously; no call on my phone last week. I strolled down the street in my pink sweatshirt and baggy jeans. The sky was transitioning from rosy pink dusk to a greyish night, blending into camouflage. I headed straight to our usual bar, where we, siblings, used to go. As usual, he was there, sipping his drink.

"You shouldn't sip your wine with a straw. People will think the heir of Joe Junction is mentally unstable."

"It's fun. Care for a drink? Oh, you don't drink. Why?"

"I might become someone the world cannot control."

I never dared to taste it. It's not a matter of liking or disliking, but I've seen people open up once they're drunk. And I fear revealing my inner self.

"Hey. Can you give me some ideas on how to seduce him? Should I use my body?"

"Do you think I'd allow you to?"

"Okay. When are you going to classes? Don't skip, boy. You're still young."

"Management classes are boring. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Enroll in a course. Find a hobby. Don't lead an idle life, Aish"

"I can draw, but I can't sketch. I can sing, but I know nothing about notes. I play games, and it's up to Bubbles. I know the facts, but I fail to explain them. I play nice, but my words are rash. I'm completely average and in my mid-twenties. Which course would you suggest I study?"

_____________________

Attending college isn't a matter of preference. It's about choices, and in my case, I had none. Grabbing my backpack, I hopped on the regular bus and then walked to the gate.

"Finally, you're here." Martin wrapped his hand around my neck and pulled me along with him.
"So... What should I do?" I asked.

He chuckled, "I've already planned for it. You're taking cooking lessons. You live alone, how come you are not a good cook yet?"

He handed me the application forms and guided me to the office. As I opened the door, I rolled my eyes to find the very familiar face.

"Oh, look who it is." Diana's voice surprised me. A schoolmate, we used to share the same bench and some bitter memories.

"Oh, Shitty fate," I replied.
We were never on good terms. She had held me responsible for her second rank in our tenth-grade class, insisting that I shouldn't have been first. Although I knew her parents were strict about her grades, I couldn't fathom why I should be the one to compromise. Because that was my sole identification.

She approached me and snatched the paper from my hand. She remarked, "So you're here for the cooking class. Do you really think I'll allow it?" With a swift motion, she tore the paper. "I'll make you plead for it. It might not make sense, but instead of being a professor, I'm stuck as a mere teacher—all thanks to you." Her bitterness was clear from her voice.
I smirked and said, "I wanted that. I was never here willingly. Thanks. I'm leaving first." I waved at her and headed outside.

Walking through the corridor, I continued my quest for the restroom, feeling increasingly uneasy. Running into her again, I asked, "Where's the restroom? A little help would be nice." I sensed she noticed my discomfort, and she directed me to the other side. Despite following her instructions, I couldn't find it.

I found myself in the middle of the stairs when she approached. Cornering me, she whispered, "This isn't the first time, I guess. And you really believed me." I had no strength to argue with her due to my stomachache.

I took out my phone from my backpack, ready to call Martin when she threw it downstairs. Leaning towards me, she whispered, "Best of luck."

Yeah, it wasn't the first time I fell for her deception. In tenth grade, I trusted she was innocent, but she trapped me in the basement to prevent me from attending the test. Somehow, the next day, I managed to take it. She kept cursing at me. And nobody knew how long that night was in that dark room.