Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Apparently, I Have a Type
I discovered I had a type on a Wednesday afternoon.
Not because I had some life-changing revelation.
Not because I saw a ridiculously attractive stranger across campus and suddenly understood every questionable romantic decision I'd made since I was sixteen.
No.
I discovered it because my friends were horrible people.
"You have a type."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
"I literally don't."
Nia stared at me from across the table with the exhausted expression of someone explaining basic mathematics to a toddler.
Beside her, Maya was scrolling through her phone.
We were supposed to be studying.
Technically.
There were books open.
Laptops too.
A collection of highlighters sat between us.
So, if anyone asked, this was an extremely productive university study session.
The fact that none of us had looked at our notes in twenty minutes was irrelevant.
Maya suddenly turned her phone around.
"Ryan."
I stared at the picture of my ex.
"Why do you have a picture of Ryan?"
"Research."
"Delete that."
She ignored me and swiped.
"Daniel."
Another ex.
Swipe.
"Noah."
I frowned.
"Where are you getting these?"
"Your Instagram."
"You're stalking my exes?"
"For science."
Nia nodded solemnly. "Important research."
"I need better friends."
"You say that every week," Maya said. "Yet here you are."
I reached for my iced coffee.
Maya placed her phone beside my face and squinted.
"What?"
"Comparing."
"Comparing WHAT?"
She looked at Nia.
Nia looked at her.
Then both of them started laughing.
I put my drink down.
"Oh, I hate both of you."
"You have a type," Nia repeated.
"I DON'T."
"Tall."
"That describes half the male population."
"Dark hair."
"Coincidence."
"Quiet."
"Daniel wasn't quiet."
"He barely spoke."
"Because he had nothing interesting to say," Maya added.
I pointed at her. "Exactly."
"Which raises another question," Nia said. "Why did you date him?"
"He was cute."
There was a pause.
Maya slowly leaned back.
"And there it is."
"What?"
"Your entire dating philosophy."
I gasped.
"Excuse me?"
"He's cute."
She counted on her fingers.
"He's funny."
Another finger.
"He looked at me for approximately four seconds."
Another.
"Maybe he's the love of my life."
"I have NEVER said that."
"You don't have to."
Nia was trying not to laugh.
Traitor.
I grabbed my notebook.
"I'm studying."
"No, you're avoiding accountability."
"I'm studying aggressively."
"Amara."
I looked up.
Maya had that expression.
The one that meant she was about to say something I probably wouldn't like.
"What?"
"Why did you actually date Ryan?"
I blinked.
"Because I liked him?"
"What did you like about him?"
"He was nice."
"That's a requirement for being a decent human being."
"He was funny."
"Kian makes you laugh more."
I frowned.
"What does Kian have to do with anything?"
"Nothing."
Maya looked down too quickly.
I narrowed my eyes.
"No. You did that thing."
"What thing?"
"That thing where you say something weird and then pretend you didn't."
Nia suddenly became very interested in her laptop.
I looked between them.
"Why are you both acting suspicious?"
"We're not."
"You are."
"We're literally sitting here."
"Suspiciously."
Maya rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Forget Kian. Continue."
I stared at her for another second.
Then let it go.
"What did I like about Ryan?"
"Yes."
I thought about it.
Ryan had been...
Ryan.
We met at a friend's birthday party.
He asked for my number.
We started texting.
He asked me out.
I said yes.
One date became four.
Four became, Do you want to make this official?
And suddenly I had a boyfriend.
There hadn't been some massive moment where I'd thought, Yes. Him.
It had just...
happened.
"I liked spending time with him," I finally said.
"More than being alone?"
I looked at Maya.
"What kind of question is that?"
"A question."
"Obviously."
"Obviously what?"
"Obviously I'd rather spend time with someone I like than sit alone."
She tilted her head.
"That's not what I asked."
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it.
Nia looked between us.
"Okay, Dr. Phil. We're supposed to be studying."
"Thank you," I said.
Maya raised both hands.
"Fine."
I returned to my notes.
Except now the words weren't really going into my brain.
More than being alone?
What was that even supposed to mean?
Of course I could be alone.
I was alone all the time.
I went shopping alone.
Sometimes.
I ate alone.
When nobody was available.
I watched movies alone.
While texting people.
I—
Okay.
Maybe Maya had a point.
A tiny one.
Microscopic.
Barely visible to the human eye.
My phone buzzed beside my notebook.
I grabbed it immediately.
Maya looked at me.
I slowly put it back down.
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"Your face did."
She smiled.
I checked my phone anyway.
KIAN: outside
I frowned.
ME: outside where?
KIAN: your university
ME: why
KIAN: kidnapped a student. need help hiding the body
I stared at the message.
ME: understandable. 5 mins
"Who is it?" Nia asked.
"Kian."
Maya's eyes met Nia's.
There.
Again.
That weird look.
I pointed between them.
"STOP DOING THAT."
"Doing what?"
"THAT."
"We didn't do anything."
"You looked at each other."
"People tend to do that, Amara."
"Not like that."
Nia started packing her books.
"We should probably leave before she starts interrogating us."
"I'm serious."
"So are we."
I shoved my notebook into my bag.
Maya smiled sweetly.
"Going somewhere?"
"Kian's outside."
"Of course he is."
I stopped.
"What is THAT supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
"You people are irritating."
"We love you too."
I slung my bag over my shoulder.
"Unfortunately."
I was halfway across the library when Maya called after me.
"AMARA!"
Several people looked up.
I turned.
She cupped her hands around her mouth.
"ASK KIAN WHAT YOUR TYPE IS!"
I gave her the finger.
Quietly.
Because we were in a library.
---
Kian was leaning against his car when I came outside.
Black T-shirt.
Grey hoodie tied around his waist.
Hair slightly messy.
Phone in one hand.
He looked up when he saw me.
"Seven minutes."
"What?"
"You said five."
"You timed me?"
"No."
"Then how do you know?"
He opened the passenger door.
"Get in."
I stopped.
"Did you just open my door?"
He looked at the door.
Then at me.
"Yes?"
"Why?"
"Because I'm a gentleman."
I stared.
He stared back.
Then I looked inside.
There was a bag from the café on my seat.
I immediately understood.
"You don't want me to crush the food."
"There she is."
"Fraud."
I picked up the bag and got in.
The smell hit me immediately.
I opened it.
"Is this mine?"
"No. I bought your exact order because I wanted to eat it."
"Thank you."
"Pay me."
"Friendship is payment."
"That's not how capitalism works."
I took a bite.
Kian got into the driver's seat.
"Where are we going?"
"Grocery store."
I paused mid-chew.
"You remembered?"
"You asked me yesterday."
"People forget things."
"You sent three reminder texts."
"Preventative measures."
"You also called."
"Additional preventative measures."
"And then you sent me a picture of an empty fridge."
"I needed you to understand the severity of the situation."
He started the car.
"You had ketchup."
"Exactly."
"That's not food."
I smiled.
"I missed you too."
"I saw you yesterday."
"Doesn't mean you didn't miss me."
"I didn't."
"Liar."
He didn't answer.
I ate another bite.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Music played quietly through the speakers.
I watched buildings pass outside the window.
This was another thing about Kian.
Silence wasn't awkward.
With some people, silence felt like a problem you had to fix.
You'd start searching your brain for something to say.
Weather.
Classes.
Some random video you saw online.
Anything.
With Kian, silence was just...
silence.
I could exist beside him without performing.
Maybe that was what eight years did to people.
"Oh," I said suddenly.
"Mhm?"
"Apparently I have a type."
"Condolences."
I turned toward him.
"Don't you want to know?"
"Not particularly."
"Kian."
"Fine. What's your type?"
"I don't know."
He glanced at me.
"Great story."
"No, Maya and Nia said I have one."
"Everyone has a type."
"You?"
"No."
I sat straighter.
"You JUST said everyone has one."
"Everyone except me."
"That's not how everyone works."
"Maybe I'm special."
"You're definitely something."
He smiled.
I studied him.
"What is your type?"
"Why do you care?"
"Research."
"No."
"Come on."
"No."
"Is it Sophie?"
His fingers shifted slightly on the steering wheel.
Oh.
Interesting.
I grinned.
"It's Sophie."
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to."
"You're annoying."
"Dark skin?"
Silence.
"Short hair?"
"Amara."
"Artistic?"
"Stop."
"Pretty smile?"
He sighed.
"Can we listen to music?"
I gasped.
"YOU HAVE A TYPE."
He turned the volume up.
I turned it back down.
"Amara."
"Does Sophie know you like her?"
"I don't like Sophie."
"Yesterday you said she was gorgeous."
"She is."
"So you like her."
"That's not how attraction works."
"Explain."
"I'm not giving you a lecture on attraction."
"Why?"
"Because you're twenty-one."
"Exactly. Educate me."
He reached for the volume.
I slapped his hand away.
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
Then he laughed.
"You're impossible."
"You've survived eight years."
"Against all odds."
I smiled and went back to my food.
A few seconds passed.
Then he spoke.
"Funny."
I looked up.
"What?"
"My type."
I waited.
"Someone funny."
"That's boring."
"You asked."
"What else?"
"Kind."
"Even more boring."
"Do you want me to say international criminal?"
"At least we'd have something to discuss."
He shook his head.
"Anything else?"
He thought.
"Someone I can talk to."
"Again. Boring."
"Someone who doesn't make everything complicated."
That made me pause.
"Relationships are complicated."
"They don't have to be."
"Spoken like someone who has also failed at every relationship he's ever had."
"Failed is dramatic."
"Name one that succeeded."
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
I smiled.
"Exactly."
"Yours aren't exactly winning awards."
"Which is why I am officially retired."
"You said that yesterday."
"And I meant it."
"For how long?"
"Forever."
"Four days."
I punched his arm.
He laughed.
---
The grocery store was almost empty.
Which was good.
Because grocery shopping with Kian was less of an errand and more of an argument with wheels.
"No."
I put the cereal into the trolley.
Kian removed it.
"Excuse me?"
"That tastes like cardboard."
"You eat plain oats."
"Because I'm an adult."
"You're twenty-one."
"Exactly."
"Put it back."
"No."
"Kian."
He held the cereal above my head.
I stared at him.
"You know, one day I'm going to become taller than you."
"At twenty-one?"
"Medical miracles happen every day."
He put the cereal on the higher shelf.
I reached.
Couldn't get it.
He watched.
I tried again.
Nothing.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Immensely."
I stepped onto the bottom shelf.
His expression changed immediately.
"Amara."
"I've got it."
"Get down."
"I can reach."
"You're going to fall."
"I am a grown woman."
"You're standing on supermarket furniture for strawberry cereal."
"Some things are worth dying for."
I stretched.
My fingers touched the box.
The shelf moved slightly.
Before I could react, Kian's hand wrapped around my waist.
He pulled me down.
"Kian!"
My feet hit the floor.
"What is wrong with you?"
"I ALMOST HAD IT."
"You almost had a concussion."
He was still holding my waist.
I noticed.
He didn't.
At least, I didn't think he did.
"Kian."
"What?"
I looked down.
His eyes followed mine.
"Oh."
His hand disappeared immediately.
He stepped back.
"Don't climb shelves."
I frowned.
"Why are you acting weird?"
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I just prevented your tragic death in aisle six."
"It wouldn't have been tragic."
"You're right. Embarrassing."
I hit his arm.
He grabbed the cereal and dropped it into the trolley.
"There."
I smiled.
"I knew you'd come around."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
He pushed the trolley forward.
I followed.
Maybe I imagined it.
But his ears looked slightly red.
---
We were standing in the frozen-food aisle when someone called my name.
"Amara?"
I turned.
A guy stood a few feet away holding a basket.
It took me a second.
Then—
"Oh my God. Lucas?"
He smiled.
"Hey."
Lucas was in one of my classes.
We'd spoken a few times, mostly about assignments and once about how our lecturer seemed personally offended by happiness.
He walked over.
"I didn't know you shopped here."
I looked around.
"Yeah. Huge part of my personality."
He laughed.
Beside me, Kian said nothing.
"This is Kian," I said. "My best friend."
Lucas nodded.
"Hey, man."
"Hey."
Something about Kian's voice sounded different.
Not rude.
Just...
short.
Lucas looked back at me.
"Are you coming Friday?"
"Friday?"
"Jade's thing."
"Oh! Yeah. Probably."
"You should. Everyone's going."
"I'll see."
He smiled.
"Cool. I'll text you."
"Okay."
"See you."
"Bye."
Lucas walked away.
I turned back to the freezer.
Kian opened one of the doors.
"Who's Lucas?"
I looked at him.
"A guy from my class."
"Never heard of him."
"Why would you have heard of him?"
"Exactly."
I stared at him.
He took out frozen pizza.
"What?"
I started smiling.
"Nothing."
"What?"
"You're being weird again."
"I'm buying pizza."
"You asked who he was like somebody's father."
"I asked a question."
"You interrogated me."
"One question isn't an interrogation."
I followed him.
"He seems nice."
"Didn't say he wasn't."
"He's funny."
"Didn't ask."
My smile grew.
Kian noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"That."
I laughed.
He rolled his eyes and kept walking.
And because I was me, I immediately forgot about it.
I didn't notice the way Kian glanced back toward the aisle Lucas had disappeared into.
I didn't think about the strange edge in his voice.
And I definitely didn't think about his hand around my waist ten minutes earlier.
Why would I?
This was Kian.
My best friend.
The person who had watched me date other boys for years without caring.
At least...
that's what I thought.
