The Rolling Dice

November 2010. Senior Year suddenly shifted from a boring waiting game into a frantic, high-stakes sprint.

College application season had arrived.

Jessica and I had spent hours pouring over early admission forms. We made a quiet, unspoken pact to attend the exact same University. I was highly confident my academic record would secure my spot, and despite her bubbly cheerleader persona, Jessica was incredibly smart; her GPA was more than high enough to get her in. Pinning down our college plans felt like throwing an anchor into the future. It meant I wouldn't lose her after graduation.

But before we could secure the future, we had to survive the present. The state Constitution exam was looming over us. I spent the entire first week of November drilling flashcards with Jessica, hiding out in the library or the cold courtyard.

When Friday finally hit and the exam was behind us, the relief was palpable.

"At last... it's over," Jessica groaned, letting her head fall back against the brick wall of the courtyard. "I miss my sophomore days."

"You miss being a naive kid?" I chuckled, shoving my heavy textbook into my backpack.

"Yeah!! Senior year completely sucks! It’s nothing but paperwork and stress. It completely takes away my freedom!"

"What are you talking about, Cheeto? We only have three mandatory classes this semester. The rest are electives."

"Yeah, but my friends don't have time to hang out anymore," she sighed, playing with the zipper on her jacket. "Everyone is super tense and freaking out about their FAFSA applications."

"Oh." I paused, tilting my head. "You don’t fill out the FAFSA?"

She snapped her head toward me, her eyes narrowing defensively. "Don’t mock my parents, Daeron! My dad works hard. They already prepared a college fund for my tuition. What about you?"

"....." I just stared at her blankly. The concept of applying for federal financial aid hadn't even crossed my mind.

"Ah, fuck. Never mind!" she groaned, slapping her forehead. "Sometimes I completely forget your parents are loaded. You drive a normal car and wear basic clothes. Why don't you act like a rich kid? You should buy branded stuff and flex on people like the other posh guys at school."

"For what?" I asked, genuinely confused by the logic.

"To get girls, obviously! So you don't stay a virgin forever, perhaps?" she teased, her defensive posture melting into a wicked, teasing smirk.

"That's a great idea. Maybe I should go buy a Gucci belt and try it tomorrow," I deadpanned, leaning in closer to her space.

"Ohhhh, fuck you!" she shrieked with laughter, hitting my shoulder with a rapid barrage of weak, playful punches. I just laughed, grabbing her wrists and pulling her in close.

*

My world had shrunk down to a population of one.

I spent every single second of my free time with Jessica. When she was busy with cheer practice or pretending to care about her other friends, I retreated into isolation. I would sit alone in a café with a novel, or lock myself in my dark bedroom, letting the glow of my television screen numb my brain.

Sometimes, Alvin refused to take the hint.

He would actually drive to my house and knock on my bedroom door, trying to drag me back into reality. We would play Xbox for a while, and it almost felt like old times. But the second Alvin brought up Tyson, or tried to push me to come hang out with the boys at the diner, a cold, defensive wall instantly slammed down in my head. I would shut the conversation down immediately and ask him to leave.

I didn't entirely understand why I was so hostile. The truth was, I felt incredibly ashamed of the monster I had been at the Dojo, and I felt too weird and awkward to just walk back into their circle like nothing had happened.

I sat on the edge of my bed, listening to Alvin's car pull out of my driveway. It doesn't matter, I told myself, staring at the blank wall. High school was almost over anyway. In a few months, we would all graduate and scatter. I was bound to find new friends at the University.

All I needed was Jessica.

**

December 2010. The first week of Winter Break was suffocatingly boring. My parents packed their bags and flew to the UK to spend Christmas and New Year's with Julian. They tried to convince me to come with them, but I stubbornly refused. I wanted to stay in here. I wanted to spend Christmas curled up with Jessica.

But three days before Christmas Eve, my phone buzzed.

Hey Tiger. My dad just surprised us with a family ski trip! I'm so sorry, but I'm going to be out of town for Christmas. I'll make it up to you when I get back! Promise!

I stared at the glowing screen, a familiar, bitter anger flaring in my chest. Fuck! Why did she always bail on me during the holidays? I threw my phone onto the couch. I was going to be spending Christmas completely, utterly alone.

*

By the time Christmas night rolled around, the silence of my massive, empty house was driving me insane. I grabbed my heavy coat and drove to the city center.

The plaza was packed with families and couples watching a live holiday concert. I stood near the back of the square, leaning against a cold stone planter, nursing a cheap beer and smoking a cigarette to numb the freezing air.

A shadow fell over me. A massive guy in a thick winter coat stepped out of the crowd and sat down on the edge of the planter right beside me.

I glanced over. It was Tyson.

"Why are you out here all alone, Daeron?" Tyson asked, his deep voice carrying easily over the loud music.

"Just chilling, man," I answered flatly, taking a slow drag of my cigarette and blowing the smoke away from him.

Tyson didn't look at me. He kept his eyes fixed on the brightly lit stage. "Look. I’m sorry, man. When you first started pushing us away, I didn't know what the issue was. I only found out the truth recently."

I frowned, lowering my cigarette. "Huh? What are you talking about, man? Truth about what?"

Tyson finally turned his head. His dark eyes searched my face, looking for a crack in my armor. He looked hesitant, almost sympathetic. "Wait... are you dating Jessica?"

My defensive walls slammed down instantly. "No! We’re not dating. We're just friends," I snapped, my voice sharp. "Why the hell are you asking me that?"

".... Just a friend?" Tyson pressed, his brow furrowing as he studied my immediate, aggressive denial.

"Yeah. Just a friend."

"You’re not hiding anything from me?"

"…No. Hiding what?" I stared him down, my jaw clenched tight.

Tyson stared back. I watched the sympathy in his eyes slowly curdle into profound, exhausted disappointment. He realized something in that moment. He realized I wasn't hurting. I was just lying.

".... Alright then," Tyson scoffed quietly. He stood up, his massive frame towering over me in the snow.

"Hey, what’s that supposed to mean, dude?" I demanded, pushing off the stone planter.

"Listen to me, Daeron," Tyson said, his voice dropping into a cold, heavy rumble. "If you can’t give, don’t expect to take. Don’t expect trust from your brothers when you can’t even be trusted to tell the truth."

He didn't wait for my response. He turned around and walked away, his broad shoulders disappearing into the sea of holiday tourists.

I stood there, the snow falling softly around me, my mind spinning furiously. What the fuck was that about? Trust? Was he mad because he somehow figured out I was hooking up with Jessica? But why would he care so much about that?

Then, my paranoid brain locked onto a target. Sean. Tyson and Sean had become friendly after the basketball tournament. They respected each other. Tyson had to be spying for Sean! Jessica had warned me that if Sean found out we were fooling around, he would tell her dad and she would be grounded forever.

That makes perfect sense, I thought, taking another drag of my cigarette. Tyson was fishing for information. Thank God I hadn't cracked. If Tyson and Sean were talking, it was absolutely critical that I kept my mouth shut and protected Jessica's secret.

**

January 2011. After a suffocating, isolated Winter Break, the first day of the spring semester felt like stepping out of a prison.

I didn't care about the classes. The teachers' voices were just white noise. The only thing that mattered was that Jessica was back in the building. When the final bell rang, I waited by her locker. Seeing her bright, familiar smile felt like a physical lifeline.

"So, where are we going?" I asked, leaning against the metal lockers.

Her smile faltered. A guarded, nervous expression flashed across her eyes. "Umm… I actually have to go with my friends right now."

"Oh." My chest tightened. "Alright then."

She saw my jaw clench. She immediately reached out, cupping my cheeks to soften the blow. "Hey! Don't be mad. I’ll come over and visit your house later, okay? I just have to grab a quick lunch with them. I’ll buy you pasta and bring it over!"

"Fine," I sighed, a reluctant chuckle escaping my lips. "But I demand ravioli."

"Greedy!" she laughed, squeezing my cheeks before hurrying down the hallway.

A few hours later, the doorbell rang. Jessica walked into my bedroom carrying a plastic takeout bag, smelling like vanilla and cold winter air. She collapsed dramatically onto my bed while I sat at my desk, opening the ravioli.

"You look exhausted," I noted.

"I am!" She rolled onto her back, staring at my ceiling. "I feel like the last few weeks of Winter Break were just non-stop. So packed."

"How so?" I took a bite of the pasta.

"Because my parents were driving me crazy. They kept bugging me about leaving the house, telling me I needed to stay in and study. Even on Christmas Day, we just stayed home and had a boring family dinner."

I stopped chewing. My fork hovered over the plastic container.

"Huh?" I turned around in my chair, narrowing my eyes at her. "Before break, you texted me that your dad surprised you with a family ski trip. You said you were going out of town."

Panic flashed across her face. She sat up quickly. "Yeah... um... I mean, they canceled it!" she stammered, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "The trip got canceled. So we only had a family dinner."

"...." I stared at her. The silence in the bedroom grew heavy. "... I see."

"But my cousins came down to visit! That's why I was so busy!" she blurted out, frantically patching the holes in her story. "My cousins and I took a small trip together just us. So... how was your holiday?"

"Really?" I looked at her, my face completely devoid of emotion. "You bailed on me on Christmas. I spent the holiday completely alone. Remember?"

She bit her lip, looking incredibly guilty. She slid off the bed, walked over to my desk, and stepped between my knees. "Hey. I’m sorry... I didn't know my cousins were going to show up like that."

"I don’t care, Jess," I sighed, looking away from her. "You do what you want."

She didn't argue. She just climbed onto my lap, straddling my legs, and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck. "Hey... I’m sorry. I really did miss you, Tiger."

My internal alarms were screaming. She's lying. The ski trip, the family dinner, the sudden cousins—none of it made sense. But as she pressed her soft body against mine, the alarms were violently drowned out by my own desperate loneliness. I just looked at her, refusing to say the words.

"Hey..." Her voice cracked. She rested her forehead against mine, her breath warm against my lips. "I wish the situation was different, you know..." She hugged me fiercely, burying her face in my neck. "I really love spending time with you. Don’t you understand?"

Yeah, I thought, wrapping my arms around her waist. I understand that I can't survive without you. I let the lie slide, burying the truth just to keep her in my arms.

*

March 2011. The spring thaw brought the mail.

College acceptance letters were flooding the senior class. My parents had already assured me they would write a blank check for any private university I wanted, but my pride wouldn't allow it. I needed to prove that my academic discipline hadn't died on the Karate mat. I needed to get in on my own merit.

When the thick, heavy envelope from the University of Illinois Chicago (UIC) arrived in my mailbox, a massive weight lifted off my shoulders. I was in.

I didn't text Jessica. I drove straight to the high school.

I leaned against the doorframe of her final period class as the bell rang.

"Yo, Cheeto. Get in the car. We’re getting hotdogs."

"Ohhh, someone’s in a good mood!" She grabbed her bag, eyes lighting up. "Buy me Vanilla Latte too!"

"Get whatever you want. I’m buying."

We drove to our spot at the park. The weather was still biting, but we didn't care. We sat on the bench, breath misting in the air, unwrapping the foil-wrapped hotdogs like they were gold bars.

"You are obsessed with this specific hotdog stand," I laughed as we sat on the park bench.

"They're the best!" she mumbled around a mouthful of food. "I have to eat here as much as possible before we leave for University. I’m going to miss them."

"Speaking of University..." I smirked, leaning back and crossing my arms. "Guess who is officially a college boy."

"Whoa! You got your letter?! Congrats, Tiger!!!" She practically tackled me on the bench.

"Whoa, easy Cheeto, your mustard is going to ruin my jacket!" I laughed, prying her off me. "So? That means your UIC letter arrived too, right?"

The bright, celebratory energy instantly vanished. Jessica went completely pale. She pulled back, refusing to look me in the eyes.

"Umm… no. I didn't get a letter from them yet. Maybe I got rejected."

"What??" I frowned, my heart sinking. "No way. You're in honors classes. You have a great GPA. Maybe the mail is just delayed today."

"Chill, Daeron. It’s alright," she said, her voice sounding strangely hollow.

"But we promised—"

"Don’t worry," she interrupted softly, staring at her half-eaten food. "I actually already got an acceptance letter from UChicago. So even if UIC rejects me, we can still see each other. The campuses aren't that far apart."

I stared at her. UChicago. It was an elite, private, fiercely competitive school. It was geographically close, but culturally, it was a completely different universe.

"Well," I sighed, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees. "That fucking sucks, though. We agreed to go to the same school."

She set her food down. She reached out, gently turning my face toward her. "Hey. Let’s make a new promise. No matter what happens, we will meet up every single weekend. Alright?"

"Of course," I said firmly, staring into her green eyes. "I absolutely promise you."

She leaned in and kissed me. It was slow, warm, and tasted of sugar and mustard. For a moment, the disappointment faded. I felt her presence was enveloping my soul.

We finished our Hot vanilla latte in the cold air, talking about nothing, while I tried to ignore the future for just a little longer.

**

May 2011. Senior spring fever had fully infected the school.

Everywhere I looked, guys were embarrassing themselves with "Promposals." It was a ridiculous new trend where guys would make giant, glittery posters with terrible puns, or sing in the middle of the cafeteria, just to ask a girl to a dance. It was agonizing to watch.

I wasn't the type to make a poster. But as the date crept closer, a quiet thought settled in my head. I should just ask Jessica. No fanfare, no cringe-inducing public spectacle. Just me and her.

When the lunch bell rang, I walked out to our hidden spot in the courtyard. Jessica was already there, hiding behind a brick pillar.

"Whoa, you beat me here?" I asked, dropping my backpack onto the concrete.

"Yeah," she groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Some junior just tried to 'prompose' to me by the gym doors. It was so annoying. I had to run away."

"Damn. Playing hard to get? Quite arrogant, Cheeto," I smirked, leaning against the wall next to her.

"Shut up! It’s just so cringe!! Why can't guys just ask a girl out normally instead of doing something so performative and corny?"

"If a guy asked you normally, would you actually say yes?" I chuckled.

"No! Let them dream," she giggled, her bright energy returning. She nudged my arm. "What about you? Has anyone promposed to you yet?"

"If any guy tries to prompose to me with a poster, I swear to God, I will kick him squarely in the nuts."

Jessica laughed loudly, the sound echoing in the empty courtyard.

I looked at her, deciding to shoot my shot. "So, what’s your actual plan for Prom?"

Her laughter died. She glanced at me, her green eyes flashing with a sudden, guarded hesitation before she quickly looked up at the sky. "Well... the boys actually asked me to go with them on Prom night. You still haven't made up with Tyson and the group, have you?"

I let out a slow sigh, my chest tightening. "Well, there’s nothing to make up for. We just drifted."

"So… you really won’t join the boys at Prom?"

"I’m not sure." I watched her face carefully. "Do you actually want to go with them?"

"Yeah. They asked me to go with them as a group," she said smoothly. She looked back at me. "Are you really not going to attend?"

"Alone? Probably not." I took a breath and leaned forward. "How about you skip the group thing and go with me instead?"

She completely froze. I saw her throat bob as she swallowed hard. "…. I can’t, Tiger. I already promised the boys I would go with them."

"Why, though?" I frowned, genuinely confused by her logic. "Alvin and Tyson already have their girlfriends. You're just going to be a massive fifth wheel."

"….. Well... Jones isn't with Airin anymore," she said, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur.

"Heh." I rolled my eyes, feeling a spike of annoyance at the mention of the clown. "That dude really has severe commitment issues."

Jessica watched my reaction closely. "Do you hate him?"

"No," I answered honestly. "I don't hate him, or any of the guys. Even though we don't hang out or talk anymore, to me, they’re still my brothers. They just have their own lives now."

"….."

A heavy, suffocating silence dropped over the courtyard. I had put myself out there, and I had been shot down. She preferred hanging out with my former friends over going to Prom with me.

"Well," I said, forcing a dry smirk to cover the sting in my chest. "Perhaps I’m just gonna visit my favorite café on Prom night then."

"Are you sure?" she asked, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. "You’ll miss out on the whole Prom experience."

"Yeah. I was never fond of sweaty, overly-hyped high school parties anyway. Besides, they don't serve beer," I joked, my voice totally deadpan.

"Alright then," she smiled softly, reaching out to poke my cheek. "But don’t forget to text me before you go to sleep that night."

"…..Yeah. Sure."

The bell rang. I grabbed my bag and walked back to class, the rejection sitting like a lead weight in my stomach.

*

Prom night.

Across the city, the senior class was renting limos, pinning corsages, and taking a million photos for Instagram.

I was sitting in the back booth of a nearly empty café. To be fair, I wasn't a total outcast. I had actually received a few casual Prom invitations from girls in my homeroom over the past two weeks. But I turned them all down. If I couldn't go with Jessica, I didn't want to go at all.

I struck a match, lit a cigarette, and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke into the dim air. I had my black coffee, a pack of smokes, and a thick novel. I convinced myself this was the ultimate chill time. I was above all that high school drama and let the rest of the world pretend they were having the time of their lives.

**

June 2011. Graduation Day.

When my fingers closed around the leather-bound diploma, the high school chapter of my life officially ended. The oppressive routine, the burnt bridges, the dojo exile—it was all finally behind me.

I walked off the stage and scanned the stadium seating. My parents were standing near the front, clapping loudly and looking incredibly proud. Next to them was my older brother, Julian. He was wearing an obnoxiously expensive tailored suit, looking like he had just stepped off a European runway. He was pretentious, absent-minded, and annoying, but I tolerated his attitude today because he had actually bothered to fly in for my graduation.

As I walked toward my family, a familiar voice called my name. Alvin.

He was standing near the bleachers with Tyson, Jones, and the girls. He asked if I would join them for one last group photo. I looked at the crew. We hadn't hung out in months. But looking at the blue graduation gowns, I realized this was truly the end. I swallowed my pride, buried my massive ego, and walked over to them. We took several photos together. It was a silent, bittersweet goodbye to the brotherhood.

My parents immediately hijacked me afterward for a family photo. They insisted they needed it for their physical "Journey" album. Dad proudly told me I should look through that album more often to appreciate our family history. I absolutely refused. Don’t get me wrong, they were great parents, but they were also wildly free-spirited. That album was packed with photos of their "indecent," highly inappropriate romantic escapades. For fuck's sake, I did not want to know what went on behind their closed doors.

*

To celebrate, my family dragged me to a ridiculously "fancy" restaurant downtown. The atmosphere was completely stiff and pretentious—which meant it was absolutely necessary so our dear Julian could eat without complaining about the silverware. Sigh.

"So, Daeron," my dad said, swirling the wine in his glass. "Which apartment do you want to use for the fall semester?"

I stopped cutting my steak. "'Which'?" I frowned, looking across the table. "What do you mean 'which'?"

"Well, we own a few residential properties near your University. Didn’t I tell you about the portfolio over Winter Break?"

"For fuck's sake, old man. You never told me anything about an apartment," I scowled.

My dad blinked, realizing his mistake. Sometimes he completely confused Julian and me. Because our age gap was small, our facial features were almost identical. The only real difference was that Julian was noticeably taller and built like a skinny runway model, while I was built like a fighter.

"Oof. Sorry, son. I must have been talking to your brother," Dad chuckled, completely unfazed. He pulled out his smartphone and pulled up a map with several red pins dropped across Chicago. "Well, you know now. Take your pick."

I leaned over the table, studying the map. One pin was right next to the UIC campus. But my eyes drifted east. There was another pin located in a high-rise district. I did the mental math. It was exactly halfway between UIC and UChicago.

"I’ll take this one," I said, tapping the screen.

My mom leaned over to look. "Are you sure, honey? Isn’t that quite a far drive from your campus? There's one right across the street from your classes."

"Yeah, but a ten-minute drive isn't an issue. The location is perfect," I insisted, keeping my real reasoning entirely to myself. "How much is the rent going to be, Dad?"

"I told you, it's ours, boy. You'll live rent-free," he smiled proudly, taking a sip of his wine.

"Heh. Thanks, Dad."

"You sure do love living off the family dime, innit?" Julian sneered from across the table, laying his fake, grating British accent on thick.

"Ugh, for fuck's sake, Jilly. You’re not fucking British," I rolled my eyes. "You’re a Spanish-Balkan mutt who grew up in Denmark. A British accent doesn’t match your face. Drop it."

"At least I possess actual manners and class, unlike you, Darry," he shot back, flashing a try-hard, arrogant smirk.

"Hey, don’t be like that, boys," my mom interrupted, her eyes sparkling with sudden nostalgia. "Speaking of our heritage, let me tell you the story of why you two actually grew up in Denmark—"

"NO!!" Julian and I shouted in unison, the entire restaurant turning to look at us. We had heard the story of their wild, uninhibited youth a hundred times, and we definitely didn't want to hear the lewd details while eating a five-star meal.

*

July 2011. I packed my bags and moved into my new loft a full month before the fall semester began. I wanted to familiarize myself with the city grid, map out the drive to Jessica's campus, and set my space up exactly the way I wanted it.

The apartment was incredible. It was a spacious, modern loft with high ceilings and a massive outdoor balcony. It was my sanctuary. On warm summer nights, I could stand out on the balcony, smoke a cigarette, and drink a cold beer while looking out over the glowing city skyline.

I had complete freedom. No strict Dojo rules, no high school rumors, and an entire city to explore. I couldn't wait for this new chapter of my life to begin.