Chapter 3
1008 Words
My phone buzzed loudly on the bed, waking me from a deep sleep. I saw Muizzah calling.
“Hello?” I said, still half-asleep.
“Good morning, sleepyhead!” she said, cheerful. “So, what are your plans for the weekend? Will you be playing tennis, or just reading that devil’s son novel again?”
I yawned and pulled the covers over my head. “It’s too early for questions like that. I haven’t even gotten up yet.”
She laughed. “You better get ready. We’re making plans. Are you coming or not?”
I thought for a moment. My body was still tired from the week. “Maybe. I might just watch you play.”
“Okay, at least that’s something. Wear your shorts and bring your racquet, just in case.”
I smiled and sat up. “Alright, I’ll come.”
“Of course you will. I’m always right.”
She hung up. I looked at the ceiling and smiled. Maybe this weekend will be fun after all.
After the call ended, I dragged myself out of bed and headed straight to the corner of the room where my stash of noodles sat waiting like loyal companions. Within minutes, the tiny stove was on, and the familiar sizzle filled the air. The aroma was enough to wake the rest of me up. I stirred lazily, letting the warmth rise to my face.
Once done, I ate quickly, enjoying every bite like it was a reward for surviving the week.
Next, I hit the shower. The water was cool and crisp, a gentle nudge to start the day right. I wrapped myself in a towel, took my time moisturizing, then threw on a loose tee, tennis shorts, and laced up my sneakers.
I grabbed my racket from where it leaned against the wall, slung my small bag over my shoulder, and stepped out.
The hostel compound was already buzzing, but I kept my pace steady as I crossed over to the next building where Muizzah stayed. Halfway there, my phone rang.
*Mum and Dad.*
A soft smile spread across my face as I picked up.
“Hello, sweetheart,” my dad's voice came through, calm and warm. “Just calling to wish you a happy weekend.”
“And to remind you not to skip your meals,” my mum added in the background.
I chuckled. “I just made noodles, so you’re right on time.”
“We miss you,” she said. “Try to get some rest too, okay?”
“I will. Love you both,” I said softly.
“Love you more,” they said together before the call ended.
I sighed, tucking the phone into my pocket. Somehow, the morning felt even lighter now.
As I stepped into Muizzah’s hostel block, I almost bumped into Ruth, one of my coursemates.
“Oh! Ruth!” I said, steadying myself.
She smiled. “Radiance! Where are you off to?”
“I’m going to Muizzah’s room. You?”
“I’m heading to read for a bit,” she said, holding up her book-filled bag.
I raised a brow playfully. “Wow, scholar!”
She laughed, almost dramatically. “God forbid! You, who’ve already finished the course outline, are calling *me* a scholar?”
I held my hands up. “I haven’t even read anything! Don’t drag me into this.”
We both laughed, shaking our heads.
“Alright, see you later,” she said.
“Bye, Ruth,” I replied and continued on.
I knocked on Muizzah’s door and stepped in. She was sitting on her bed eating a bowl of oat.
Without asking, I walked over, took the plate from her and scooped a few spoonfuls into my mouth.
“Radiance!” she said, giving me a look.
I handed the plate back. “There’s not even enough sugar in this.”
She rolled her eyes. “As if you don’t know I don’t like sugar.”
I laughed. “Yeah, and it tastes like it too.”
She threw a small pillow at me, both of us laughing.
Muizzah got dressed quickly—shorts, tank top, her hair tied up in a bun. She grabbed her water bottle, and we left the room together, jogging lightly toward the sports complex.
The sun wasn’t too harsh, and the morning air still had that weekend softness to it. We chatted as we jogged, laughing about the week, teasing each other, and casually gossiping about class.
Just then, a sleek, black car—definitely one of the latest models—pulled up right in front of us. We both slowed to a stop instinctively. The engine purred low, smooth, like it knew it was expensive.
The tinted window rolled down slowly.
And sitting in the driver’s seat… was this guy.
Not just any guy.
He was fine. Not the regular "Amiri-is-cute" kind of fine—this was next-level, almost surreal. Smooth skin, deep eyes, clean-cut jawline, and something about his features screamed biracial. Maybe Arab-African? Or European? I couldn't tell. But the glow was real.
Muizzah blinked. I blinked.
We both glanced at each other.
I won’t lie—even Amiri would have to pause if he saw this guy.
His face carried a friendly smile. “Need a lift anywhere?” the handsome guy asked, his voice gentle.
Muizzah shook her head. “No, thanks. We’re almost at the sports complex, just jogging.”
I nodded, my heart skipping a beat. He sounds more like a Greek god... gosh.
He smiled wider. “I’m Henry, from the Department of Finance.”
We quickly introduced ourselves. Then he turned to me and said with a playful wink, “What a lovely name you have, Radiance.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Thanks,” I whispered, confused by how much his words affected me.
“See you around, Radiance—and you too,” he added, nodding to Muizzah.
With that, the car sped off, leaving us both a little stunned and smiling.
- Writer
