To End That Situationship

Chapter 1B: The First Weekend

“Can I help you?” I asked. He was just standing there, so I figured I’d get straight to the point.

“Are you here on vacation?”

Oh, so he just wants to know my life story, I thought. Up close, I noticed more of his features: he was muscular, likely between 6’0”

and 6’2”, and quite pale. I’m not exactly short at 5’2”, but standing in front of him, I felt tiny.

“No, I just moved here. What is it you want?” I asked. I was getting a bit annoyed. Why couldn't he just say what he was after? Meanwhile, my aunt was already walking back to our mat, giggling to herself.

“How long have you been here?” he asked. He was handsome, but he was really testing my patience.

“Six months,” I lied. I didn't want him to know the full details of my life just yet.

“Quite some time, I see.” He gave me a small smile. I didn’t smile back. Then, he removed his sunglasses, revealing his eyes. For a moment, I could only stare; they were a captivating mix of green and grey. He had such a soft, soulful look—it was completely disorienting.

“Who is that woman you’re with? The one taking your photos?” His question snapped me back to my senses.

“She’s my aunt,” I answered.

“Oh, okay. I thought you were sisters. You look so much alike, like best friends.” I already knew that; Tita and I have always been very close.

“I'm sorry, but can I help you with something?” I asked him again. He chose to ignore my question entirely.

“I saw you earlier while I was walking this way. You looked good,” he said. I frowned at him, but he just smiled back—a more genuine smile this time. That’s when I noticed a new charm: he had a dimple. And God forbid, I’ve always found dimples incredibly cute.

“You look good in that orange bikini—”

“Burnt,” I interrupted.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, sounding confused.

“Burnt. The color of the bikini. It’s burnt orange,” I corrected him. I didn’t see what was so funny about what I’d said, but he laughed. I almost felt offended.

“Okay, ma’am. You look good in that burnt orange bikini,” he said, teasingly emphasizing the word. I couldn't help it—I chuckled, too.

“You’re beautiful. Would you mind if I got your number?” He finally asked for what he wanted.

“I don’t have a phone number.” Technically, I wasn’t lying. I’d only arrived yesterday and hadn't gotten a local SIM card yet. He chuckled again; he probably thought I was giving him a fake excuse, especially since I’d already told him I’d been here for six months.

“Okay, maybe your social media?” I wasn't sure about sharing that yet. First, I’d just met him. Second, I didn’t even know his name.

“I’m Matthew, by the way. I forgot to introduce myself because I was too busy thinking about how interesting it was when you corrected me on the color of your bikini.”

He told me his name as if he could read my mind.

“I’m Rie.” I didn’t want to give him my real name just yet, so I used the nickname I keep for strangers. Since it’s derived from my actual name, I wasn't technically lying.

“Rie... that’s a very cute name. Would you mind if I got your socials, my beautiful, Rie?” I hadn't intended to give them to him and was searching for a way to say no when my aunt suddenly appeared at my side.

“Just give it to him, girl!” I shot her a look, hinting that I wanted to get out of the situation. But being the "cool aunt," she didn't help me at all. She walked away again, leaving me alone with Matthew for the second time.

“Okay, give me your phone,” I sighed in defeat. It was only my first day, after all, and Dubai is a massive emirate—the chances of seeing him again were slim. I searched for my profile on his phone and handed it back. He briefly checked my page and hit "follow."

Immediately, a notification popped up on my own phone.

“I’ll do my stalking later,” he joked, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “I have a scooter. Do you want to go for a stroll?” I looked toward the far end of the beach where the running and bike tracks were.

“Thank you for the invite, but I should probably go. I’m going for a swim.” He gave me a reassuring smile, and I left him there.

I found my aunt on our beach mat, reading the book I’d left behind. When she saw me, she closed it with a wide grin.

“I knew your beauty would get some guys hooked!” I rolled my eyes, a ghost of a smile on my lips. She playfully slapped my arm and we both started giggling. Matthew was handsome, sure, but I figured he probably approached dozens of girls with the same lines.

Tita and I went for a swim and lost track of time. By the time we were done, evening had already set in.

“I’ll send you the photos later once I export them,” my aunt told me. I told her that was fine whenever she was free.

“Tita, I’m starving.” My stomach was making audible growls. She drove us to the nearest fast-food joint, and I didn't complain once; I was hungry enough to eat anything.

“So, how was the talk with the guy?” she asked on the way, her tone dripping with mischief.

“He’s handsome.” I don't know why that was the first thing I said. My aunt laughed so hard I couldn’t help but join in.

“Yes, girl! So handsome. f**k him!” she teased, making us both laugh until I could barely breathe. “Kidding!” she added, still chuckling.

“I gave him my social media, and he followed me right then and there,” I told her. Still, I doubted he’d remember me among all the other girls he likely met today.

“If he messages you, you should respond,” my aunt said, turning serious for a moment.

“Kidding aside, it’s good to build a social circle here. It’ll keep you from feeling blue.” She had a point. Adjusting to a new country is hard; a social circle was a good first step.

After dinner, we went home. I showered and crawled into bed. I was exhausted from the swim, but it was a "good" tired. I lay there for an hour reading until I remembered to check my phone.

I saw the notification earlier: matthew_jordan is following you. I clicked his profile. His name was plain—he clearly hadn't put much thought into his username—but his features were strikingly foreign. Curiosity got the better of me. Since his profile was public, I didn't even have to follow him back to see his posts. He had a lot of beach photos; he clearly spent a lot of time there, probably meeting girls.

He looked undeniably hot in his pictures; he definitely knew how to work his charm for the camera. There was nothing about his career, though. I almost jumped when a new notification flashed:

New message request from matthew_jordan.

I clicked it instantly. He had sent a few messages throughout the afternoon and evening.

“Hey, Riri! It’s Matthew.”

“Are you still at the beach? Is the scooter still a no?”

“Do you want some churros?”

“Hey, good evening! Did you make it home?”

I stared at the screen, unsure. I could ignore him, but my aunt’s advice about a social circle echoed in my head. I accepted the request and typed back.

“Hello, Matthew!” He read it instantly. That was fast, I thought. He must always be on his phone talking to girls.

“Hello there, Riri!” I frowned. Why was he giving me a nickname already?

“Rie. Please call me Rie,” I replied. How many times would I have to correct this guy?

“I like Riri more. It suits you.” I rolled my eyes, though he couldn't see me. I didn't respond after that and eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next morning followed the same routine, though my aunt had prepared a different breakfast. I was lounging on the couch watching movies when I remembered my phone. I saw messages from my family and friends and replied to everyone. Then, I saw a message from Matthew sent 13 hours ago.

“Still thinking about when you corrected me on the BURNT ORANGE color. I’m hooked, lady.”