The Soles Of Damini Manor

CHAPTER 11: FLATFORMS AND FAKE SCENARIOS

Kanyin

I'm on my third daydream this morning and I'm getting creative with my fake scenarios.

In the first one, Terna was a singer performing in front of a crowd until our eyes locked, and he asked to meet backstage. I should applaud myself for this second one because I don't know how I think of these things. I'm the star designer, and he's my new model. During a photo shoot, we lock eyes, and I craft an image of him shirtless in what I imagine his abs would look like. If he has abs. The third one takes the win, I must say. He's a CEO, and I'm interviewing to be his assistant. Me! I reduced myself to an assistant for a boy. It sounds ridiculous. All this because he called me fit and his type.

It's not just his words, but the way he said them. He knew what he wanted and was so direct about it, it made my tummy flutter. As I lay on my back facing the ceiling, I grin stupidly, his British voice playing in my head over and over again.

"Why are you giggling to yourself?" Deb asks from the entrance of my wide open door.

I sit up, straightening my face. "No-Nothing," I stammer.

Deb narrows her eyes in suspicion. "You know you can talk to me if you have any guy troubles. I know a thing or two about boys," she says, eyes radiating with pride.

"No offense Deb but I'd rather take advice from someone who has better taste in guys," I say without remorse.

"Touché," she says, joining me to sit on the lower bed of my bunk bed.

"Deb, I think I'm possessed," I complain, my face in my palms.

Her palm caresses my back. "Let me guess, does this relate to whoever is making you giggle to yourself?" she asks.

I nod, my face still hidden in my palms.

"What's his name?" she asks again.

"Terna Wellington," I mutter.

"Wait, who?" she asks. "You mean the Terna Wellington, son of James Wellington? My ex is his father's biggest fan," she gushes.

I release my face. "Well, the first time we had a conversation, he told me I'm his type of girl," I say.

Deb gasps. "That's amazing. He's incredibly handsome and-"

I cut off her rant with a glare.

"You're missing the point, Deb. I'm too good for him. I'm too good for any boy. But Terna, he makes me feel like he sees through me. Like he gets me, despite it being our first meeting. It's so strange, it's-it's-"

"Attractive?" Deb asks, smirking.

"Whyyyy?" I groan.

"How long have you guys been talking for?" she asks.

"Once." I rest my back against the wall. "We've only had one conversation and a bunch of hey whenever I'm trying to avoid him," I explain.

Deb stares, stunned.

"You've only had one conversation, and you've been able to deduce all that you said before from just one conversation?" she asks, taken aback.

I shrug. "The conversation happened three days ago, and I've had it on replay in my head. His voice is to die for Deb, and, oh my God, his eyes. They are mesmerizing," I say, images of Terna forming in my head.