3. The One With A Break-Up Pt. 2

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 ❝Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes

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❝Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes.❞

-Mahatma Gandhi

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SALMA

The next day, I returned with my older sister to my dorm. She was hoping that Ryan or Helen would showed up, so she could beat them up. My sister, Iman, wasn't someone people liked to mess with. Others wished to have older brothers to beat up their exes, but I was quite content with my big sister handling them.

Iman was a senior at Richmond University. She got a full ride to RU for varsity volleyball, becoming the youngest student to be team captain. On top of that, she had a mean reputation for starting a lot of altercations. To many, she was a force to be reckoned with. I should know. I was the first person she would start fights with growing up.

Unfortunately, we didn't get a run-in with Ryan or Helen. I packed all of my things—minus my bed spread and pillow. I had a talk with a few people that dealt with room and board. I wasn't surprised when they told me that the dorms were all taken, and it was too late for me to switch roommates. The only thing I could hope for now was for someone to drop out or drop dead.

I'm kidding.

About the dead thing, at least... unless it was Ryan who ended up dead.

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"I swear if you mope over that damn television show one more time, I'm going to shank you into oblivion, Salma." Iman groaned. "Why don't you want to go?"

It was two weeks after my break-up with He Who Shall Not Be Named and all I'd manage to do was complete my class notes, eat ice cream till my head started to ache, and re-watching old Grey's Anatomy episodes on Netflix.

Iman and her boyfriend were cool with me staying with them at their place. They lived in an apartment complex adjacent to the school campus. Her boyfriend wasn't vocal about me staying here, but I could tell that they wanted to have more privacy. I told them that I was looking for a new home and that I would no longer be a nuance after the end of the month. Iman didn't want to rush me, but I knew it was best if I found a place to live as soon as possible.

I slammed my laptop shut. "I already told you, Iman. I don't want to go."

"You've been moping all day."

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have." She took the seat on the couch beside me. Which was also my bed at night. "I get it, Salma. You're still hung up on what happened."

"I'm not." I scoffed. "Besides, even if I was still hung up, that doesn't mean your plan to cheer me up will work."

"Oh, c'mon. Give me a reason to why you don't want to go with me."

"Well, oh I don't know. Maybe because there is a high chance that we'll get arrested for even showing up."

"That's a stupid answer." She rolled her eyes. "They've been doing this for at least over a year and the cops have only raided the place one time." I raised my brow at her. "Okay. Maybe three times."

"That's exactly my point. I don't want to end up in handcuffs simply because I'm watching some cars go in circles."

"This isn't NASCAR. It's street racing. There's a difference."

"Whatever." I sighed. "I'm surprised you still go. If we got arrested, mom will kill us."

Iman's boyfriend, Malik, was down at the tracks for some stupid race and I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't go anywhere near it—even after my sister asked me to go the first night I stayed here. My sister constantly tried to convince me to go to the tracks, but I wasn't in the slightest bit interested. She wanted something to do whereas I was perfectly fine with doing nothing at all.

Why did I need to go watch illegal street racing when I had Patrick Dempsey waiting for me on my laptop?

"We'll just stay for a little bit. If you really don't have a good feeling about it, we'll leave." She kneeled down before me. Her hands were knitted together, tucked under her pointy chin. "Please, Salma."

I sighed. "How about...no."

"Sal!" She wailed. "I'm begging you. You know how much I hate begging."

Throwing my blanket off of my legs, I eased off of the couch and slipped into my sandals. "All right. All right. We can go. Just stop screaming in my ear. Ugh." I picked up my bathroom tote bag. "I'll take a quick shower and then we can go to your idiotic race thing."

"Yes!" She leaped back to her feet, hands in the air. "Thank you so much. Ohmigod. What am I going to wear?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't act so clueless. I bet you already have something planned out."

"I actually do." She smirked. "Are you going to bring some money to bet with?"

"No." I scoffed, throwing my towel over my shoulder. "I'm not wasting any of my money on that stuff. You're lucky I'm willing to waste my time there."

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