Other Girls, Other Games
996 Words
The next day, Shay was exhausted.
Not tired. Exhausted—emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Like her body had been running a silent marathon she never signed up for.
That night with Cairo—his fingertips brushing hers under the stars, that quiet truth they shared—it stayed with her like perfume on skin. She kept replaying his voice in her head, the way he said, “So… are you letting me in?” like it wasn’t just about them, but about everything.
And she hated how much it meant to her.
But when she got to the library to study that afternoon, Shay saw something that knocked the wind right out of her chest.
Cairo.
Sitting on the stairs outside the main entrance.
Talking to a girl.
Not just any girl. One of those girls who wore her confidence like cologne—tight dress, perfect hair, lashes for days. She was laughing, touching his arm lightly, leaning in like she already knew she had his attention.
And what made it worse?
Cairo was smiling back.
Not the soft, rare smile he gave Shay when no one else was around.
No—this one was cocky. Flirtatious. Like it cost him nothing.
Shay slowed her steps, hoodie pulled over her head, pretending not to see. But her eyes betrayed her.
She watched the girl twirl a piece of her hair while talking. Watched Cairo nod slowly. Watched him pull out his phone and hand it to her.
He’s giving her his number.
The pit in Shay’s stomach dropped into her shoes.
She hated herself for how much it bothered her. Hated that her heart was thudding like she just ran track. Hated that her first thought was, Was I stupid for thinking I meant something to him?
She turned on her heel before he could spot her and walked the long way around the building.
She didn’t cry.
But she was close.
⸻
That evening, she stayed in.
No texts. No studying. No Cairo.
Her phone stayed silent, even though she checked it more times than she was proud of.
She tried to distract herself. Cleaned her room. Reorganized her closet. Watched a trashy dating show with her roommate, who had no idea Shay’s insides were unraveling.
By 10 p.m., she was lying in bed, scrolling aimlessly, when her phone lit up.
Cairo: “You disappeared today.”
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Then she typed:
Shay: “Wasn’t feeling great.”
Cairo: “You good?”
Now he wanted to check in?
She stared at the message for a long time before replying.
Shay: “Fine. Just tired.”
It was dry. On purpose.
Cairo took five minutes to respond.
Cairo: “You mad at me?”
She blinked.
Then typed—
Shay: “No.”
Another lie.
But she wasn’t about to explain herself over text. Not when she didn’t even know where she stood.
He didn’t respond after that.
⸻
The next day, their psych class was weird.
He sat behind her, like always.
But he didn’t say anything.
Didn’t tap her chair. Didn’t lean forward. Didn’t compliment her ring or whisper something that made her heart skip.
She was the one who glanced back—just once—and he was already watching her.
Their eyes met.
And in that second, she knew he felt the shift too.
After class, Shay walked fast.
But he followed her.
“Yo—Shay.”
She stopped just outside the building.
Turned slowly.
He looked… confused. Frustrated. Like he couldn’t tell if he’d done something wrong or if she was just being complicated.
“You good?” he asked.
“I already said I’m fine.”
“Yeah, but you’re saying it with that tone.”
“What tone?” she said, folding her arms.
“The one that means the opposite of fine.”
She didn’t respond.
Cairo stepped closer. “What did I do?”
She looked up at him. Hard.
“You were flirting with some girl outside the library. Gave her your number.”
He blinked.
Shay shrugged like it didn’t matter. “You don’t owe me anything. I just thought…”
“You thought what?” he asked, softer now.
Shay swallowed. Her throat felt thick.
“I thought maybe I wasn’t the only one who felt something the other night.”
Cairo stared at her.
Then, slowly—“You’re not.”
The words settled heavy in the air between them.
“But,” he continued, “I’m not used to any of this. I don’t know the rules. I don’t even know what we’re doing.”
Shay bit her lip. “Me either. But I’m not trying to be someone’s placeholder while they flirt with girls who look like they belong in music videos.”
He laughed under his breath. “You’re jealous.”
She looked away. “Maybe.”
He stepped closer again.
“I didn’t give her my number,” he said. “I gave her the contact info for a student org she asked about. She’s in my psych study group.”
Shay blinked.
Now she felt stupid.
“Oh.”
Cairo tilted his head. “You gonna apologize or keep being mad for no reason?”
“I’m not mad.”
He smirked. “Still lying.”
Then, suddenly, he reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
Shay froze.
“You don’t have to say it,” he murmured. “But I like knowing you care.”
Her chest rose and fell faster now.
He was too close.
Too much.
And yet—she didn’t move.
Then he leaned in just a little.
Not enough to kiss her.
But enough to set her on fire.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he whispered. “Library. Same time.”
And just like that, he walked off.
Leaving her standing there—
Heart in her throat.
And knees barely holding her up.
- Writer
