Page 1 of Continuum

Prologue

“Aisha, you are going to miss your chance if you don’t go over there,” Angel insisted, nudging me with her elbow as the sexiest fraternity on Hamilton University’s campus ran around the quad.

“Everyone knows that he’s single now so he’s about to be swarmed,” Italy stated the obvious. To emphasize her point, she flailed her long arms in the direction of the fraternity’s groupies just as they started chanting.

The rumor mill had been spinning for over a couple of months, but Homecoming Queen and Sorority ‘It’ Girl Jayla Rose announced on social media that she was single that morning. After dating my dream man for two years, he was officially back on the market.

And people were wasting no time shooting their shots.

“He doesn’t look at me in that way,” I muttered.

Italy folded her arms across her chest. “Because you’ve never told him that you were interested.”

“Because you’re too scared to make the move!” Angel’s exasperated groan seemed to ricochet off the concrete, the statues, the buildings, and the trees.

“Stop,” I hissed, grabbing the arms of my two best friends and pulling them closer to me. “I’ll just talk to him on Monday. We have one more tutoring session before finals and graduation.”

“You haven’t said anything to him all year, but you’re going to muster up the courage to tell him you have the biggest crush on him on Monday?” Angel challenged me, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yes, because she loves him,” Italy answered in a sing-song tone.

I looked around, praying no one overheard them. “Why are you guys yelling?” I replied through clenched teeth. Glaring at Angel, I continued. “I haven’t told him because he had a girlfriend up until this morning and he obviously doesn’t see me like that.”

“How do you know?” Italy wondered. “His frat brother calls you Spelman because he must have told them how smart you are. They call me WNBA because I’m tall. They call Angel Blue Streak because of her hair. Those are obvious things. So again, they call you Spelman because he must’ve been talking about you.”

I shook my head. “Or just because I’m a tutor.”

Angel pursed her lips. “Do something about it!”

“What am I supposed to do? Drag him to the third floor of the library?” I snapped.

There was a dark part of the third floor with faulty wiring. The former room that held the reference materials had turned into a hidden nook where students went for a mid-study session hookup. I’d never been, but I heard the rumors.

Angel’s head fell back and laughed. “You can’t even ask him for his phone number, but you’re going to ask him to go to the third floor? I would kill to see you boss up and say that!”

“So you can witness him embarrassing me?” I shook my head at both of them. “He’s not interested. When we were outside the library last year and someone asked if we were together, he told them I was more like his little cousin,” I grumbled, remembering the hit to my self-esteem so vividly.

Italy made a face. “Oh, yeah…”

“So even if he were single, it wouldn’t have made sense for me to put myself out there when there’s no evidence it would be reciprocated! And then what? I’d show up to every tutoring session after that looking like an idiot.”

Angel’s long hair was pulled into a braided ponytail. The two blue streaks of hair framed her face, but she tucked them behind her ears as she leaned forward, her nose inches from mine. “Well, he’s single now and you’re a bad ass bitch, so what are you going to do about it?”

I looked across the yard to the women holding signs with his name on it. “I’m going to say something on Monday.”

“Don’t chicken out,” Angel warned.

“Leave her alone.” Draping an arm around her, Italy pulled her back. “If she says she’s going to do it on Monday, she’ll do it Monday.”

“Not if she stays scared,” Angel quipped.

I rolled my eyes, but deep down, I knew she was right. I was scared shitless. But they didn’t understand what it was like to crush on someone who didn’t see them.

They both stood out. Angel was beautiful but she was striking because of her hair. Dark natural tresses that flowed down her back, she had two blue streaks that boldly framed her face. Italy was beautiful but she was striking because of her height. Standing at 5’11” with a svelte frame, she looked like a runway model. And while I knew I was attractive as well, I didn’t really stand out—well, at least not to the man I’d crushed on for almost a full year.

Kwame Mitchell wasn’t just one of the best-looking guys on campus. He had an amazing personality. He was nice, funny, popular, and even though he struggled in math, he was so smart. He was the dream man. He wasmydream man. And unfortunately, he didn’t look at me romantically.

He said I was like his little cousin!

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