Self

Chapter 25

Yale was at a fancy restaurant, in the middle of a candlelit dinner with Xandra, when his phone buzzed. His face clouded over instantly.

After noticing the change, Xandra asked with concern, “What’s up?”

Yale did not say a word; he just stewed in silence.

He opened his phone and sent a message.

[Yale: None of my business.]

Shane smirked. He had a twinkle in his eye.

[Shane: So, you and Yara are really done, huh?]

Yale took a peek, grinding his teeth on the inside, but his reply was cool as a cucumber.

[Yale: Yeah, and? You’ve got an issue with that?]

[Shane: Me? No way I’d have an issue.]

He threw in a surrender emoji for good measure.

[Shane: So, if someone else goes after Yara, are you cool with that?]

Out of nowhere, Michael sent a message.

[Michael: Why? You planning to make a move?]

Shane’s eyes flickered, and he sent a nodding gif.

[Zachary: LOL]

[Michael: Smooth, dude.]

Nobody bought it, though.

Yale glanced at the goofy emoji and was not fazed. He shot back a

quick reply.

[Yale: Sure, go for it then.]

Shane pocketed his phone with a smirk.

Mission accomplished. He wondered if Yale would regret it, though.

“Babe, thanks for the best birthday ever.”

It was nine at night when Yale walked Xandra to her dorm. She clung to his hand, not wanting to let go.

“The thought of saying goodbye to you is just… I hate it,” she said, her smile lighting up her face, her teeth peeking out as she playfully pouted. “How can you be so chill? Don’t you feel sad at all?”

Her eyes sparkled, her smile was pure sweetness, and her voice teasingly sweet, a soft breeze that made one’s heart flutter.

was

Yale’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, gently tousling her hair. “You’ve got class tomorrow, and it’s been a long day. Better head back and get some rest.”

Xandra bit her lip, a quick shadow of disappointment crossing her eyes, but she nodded. “Okay, I’ll head back then.”

Before they knew it, 30 minutes had slipped by.

Yale pulled out of the University of Science and Technology parking lot. Left was home, but Shane’s text with that mysterious photo popped into his head, and on a whim, he veered right.

Rain began to fall, speckling the windshield with droplets that turned the streetlights into a kaleidoscope of color.

In the rearview mirror, he noticed a cashmere plaid blanket tossed on the back seat–Xandra must have forgotten it.

It reminded him of Yara, who always complained about the AC in his car being too cold. After a few grumbles, she dragged him to the

3/3

store to pick out a light brown plaid blanket–just like that one.

Since they split, the blanket had been sitting untouched, perfectly folded in the back seat–until then, when it was finally spread out again.

Honk! Honk!

The car horn blare yanked him out of his reverie as the traffic light flipped from red to green. He stomped on the gas and zoomed off.

He pulled up at the bar, flung the keys to the valet, and breezed

through the familiar ground floor.

As a regular, the manager spotted him and hurried to welcome him.. “Where’s Shane?”

“Young Master Shields and the others are upstairs in the VIP room.”

Yale brushed past the manager’s warm welcome and beelined for the stairs.

In the VIP room…

The friends had drunk heavily, sprawled on the seats, their words jumbled and slurred.