Unwanted Days of HOLY HOLIDAY

BESTFRIEND SAM

Eve's POV

“Why am I dating?” I read the question aloud, my voice echoing softly in the quiet of my room. The words hovered in the air as I slowly closed the book, staring blankly at the ceiling.

If I were to answer honestly, it wouldn’t be like anyone else’s story. I didn’t have the luxury of time to fall in love, to meet a perfect prince, or to follow the clichés of romance I had always seen in movies. My heart had already chosen—once and for all—and it had chosen Xavier Jameson. There was no room in my life for anyone else.

Yet, even with that certainty, I couldn’t articulate why I was in a relationship. It wasn’t simple. Love was never simple, and sometimes, even when your heart spoke clearly, your mind refused to keep up. I reopened the book and scanned the lines I had read before—the part of the story where the character had no answer to this very question. That was me. I didn’t have an answer. Not a proper one.

Still, reading those words made me feel lighter. At least I wasn’t alone in my confusion.

One thing, however, I was certain of: Xavier had saved me from my darkest moments, from the depression that had tried to wrap itself around me like a suffocating fog. From that moment onward, he had occupied every corner of my mind. Every thought, every fleeting fantasy, every laugh I shared with friends—he was there, present, unshakable.

My moment of introspection, however, was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door. Followed by Aunt’s cheerful voice, “Eve? Are you up?”

“Come in,” I replied, placing the book aside. Aunt opened the door, and immediately, I noticed the radiant smile that had always had the power to lift my spirits.

“Guess what?” she said, stepping in, her excitement practically vibrating in the air around her.

“I can’t guess,” I said cautiously, although my curiosity was piqued.

“Well,” she began, her voice rising in excitement, “we’ve just received a phone call from Hadithi Zetu TV, and—” My jaw dropped before she could finish. She grasped both my hands firmly, shaking them slightly as if to punctuate her announcement.

“…they asked if you could come in this Saturday, at 9:00 a.m. They gave us two days to confirm whether you’ll be available…”

“Of course!” I almost screamed, jumping up and down with excitement, hugging Aunt as tightly as I could. I felt the world tilt slightly in joy, the air around me buzzing with possibility.

“You’re getting noticed, my baby girl. I’m so proud of you,” she said, her smile saying everything words couldn’t.

I couldn’t possibly refuse such an opportunity. My ultimate dream had always been to become a novelist, to write stories that would resonate with people. But if my path to that dream started as a children’s author, I wouldn’t complain. It was a start, and starts were always important.

After a while, Aunt left, and I was alone again, letting my mind wander in the delightful fantasy of my first interview. I imagined how I would answer questions, how I would talk about writing, inspiration, and my passion for stories. Just as I pictured myself dazzling the interviewer, my phone rang, snapping me back to reality.

“Hello?” I picked up, already suspecting who it might be. The groan on the other end confirmed my suspicion.

“Sam?” I called again, hearing the sharp tone in her voice.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were back from Guentemalla?” she demanded, sounding furious. I could practically see the steam of irritation rising from her temper through the phone.

“Oh! That…” I started weakly, unsure how to explain.

“I’ve been asking your uncle for weeks to let me work in your garden. He just agreed today and made me come all the way here, only to find out you’ve been in Xenonia without telling me!”

“You’re here?” I asked, exasperated, and then the line went dead. She had hung up. That meant one thing: she was outside, probably waiting for me. And if she was outside, I was in deep trouble.

I hurried to the window, pulling back the curtain to find Sam standing there, arms crossed, hands on her hips, looking straight through me. I faked a smile as I approached her, and she stepped back, keeping her arms firmly planted.

“Come on, Sam,” I started softly, unsure if I could meet her gaze.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, her voice rising slightly.

“I was going to—”

“When?” she interrupted sharply, almost yelling. “You wanted to surprise me with your interview? Or when we go back to studies?” Her words were clipped, her tone serious now.

I imagined her turning her back on me in frustration, and the thought made my stomach drop. “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, my voice almost a whisper.

“For what?” Her eyebrows rose, hands pressing against her chest in disbelief.

“For not telling you I was already home,” I said quickly, hoping to calm her.

Sam exhaled, rolling her eyes. Her anger seemed to fade slightly. “Seriously… what was your plan?” she asked, her tone gentler now. I knew she couldn’t stay mad at me for long.

“Let me tell you everything you need to know,” I said, motioning her inside.

She followed me to my bedroom, where we lay back on the bed, facing each other, and I recounted everything about Xavier. Her expression was a mixture of disbelief, irritation, and worry as I described the situation. She cursed him under her breath, her words fierce and protective.

“He’ll come back to you anyway,” she concluded finally, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You used to love each other.”

I shook my head slightly. I couldn’t allow myself to hold onto that hope.

“He never called after that day,” I whispered.

“Maybe he’s figuring out how to explain himself. Don’t worry too much,” she said with a small, reassuring smile.

I rolled onto my stomach, pretending to ignore her advice, though I could feel her eyes on me, attentive and curious.

“Anyway, funny thing…” I started, letting her curiosity build.

“I met a friend at Guentemalla,” I said carefully, choosing my words as she leaned closer, fully attentive.

“A guy friend?” she asked immediately, rolling her eyes as if she already knew my answer.

“Yes,” I admitted, “a guy friend who wants me to escort him to his brother’s wedding this June.”

“Whoa!” Her eyes narrowed, and she shifted onto her right shoulder, examining me as if I had just confessed some dangerous secret. “Are you sure he’s just a guy friend?”

I nodded emphatically.

“Did you have lunch together?” she asked, her tone sharp.

“Once,” I said. “I gave him a piece of my favorite writing so he could allow me to join his intermediate class.”

“So, it’s probably not your first date?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Come on, Sam. He’s just being friendly. There are a million reasons why I can’t go out with him,” I said, trying to sound casual, but my heartbeat betrayed me.

Sam chuckled, the sound warm and teasing. “I didn’t say anything about you going out,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Anyway, tell me more about him.”

I sighed, knowing that no detail would satisfy her curiosity until I gave the full picture.

“He’s rude, popular, rich, and quiet,” I explained. “Sometimes he’s cool, sometimes… a dumb ass.”

“And why are you blushing?” she asked, eyes narrowing mischievously.

I froze. I couldn’t possibly blush in front of her. But it was too late; my cheeks were already tinged pink. She burst into laughter, her expression a mix of amusement and incredulity.

“That’s how people fall in love in the movies,” she teased, shaking her head.

“Sam?” I said, half-yelling, lying back on my bed, covering my face with my hands.

She chuckled again, the sound infectious. “I’m just saying,” she said, settling back, “but I really want to meet this guy friend of yours someday.”

I couldn’t help but smile through my blush. There was no point in denying it—Sam always saw right through me, my thoughts, and my feelings. I knew then that whatever happened with Xavier, or this new ‘friend,’ she would always be my confidante, my sister in every way that mattered.

I sat up, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear, feeling the mix of excitement and nervousness building inside me. This was only the beginning of something new, something unpredictable—but life had taught me that unpredictability could be thrilling, if you dared to embrace it.

And for the first time that morning, I felt the weight of uncertainty lift just a little, replaced by a flicker of hope, a spark of anticipation, and the quiet, exhilarating feeling of possibility.