The days passed like a blur. Primo had drowned himself in his practice games and hunting for culinary schools. His break up with Amara had caused another wave of gossips. Though this time, the majority wasn't pleased with him. He was officially a fuck boy.

Primo had shrugged the rumors off like a champ. He had other things to worry about like his mom's constant questions about moving away. He didn't want to.

Just because Antonio had appeared didn't mean his life would change. He wouldn't allow that.

The only downside to the whole shit show was Amara.

The girl smiled at him whenever their eyes met. She had even talked to him like nothing happened.

Primo was infuriated. He was glad that Amara was okay but was their relationship that easy to forget? Why was he feeling like shit then?

"Primo! Come on!" Van yelled as the ball hit Primo in the face. The big guy trudged to him. "Why are you spacing out?"

Primo shook his head as the referee blew the whistle. Coach Grant shot him a reproachful look. "Shape up, Luchenko. The final is near."

"Sorry, coach." Primo walked to the lockers. Van came up to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Don't."

"I'm not saying anything. It's just..." Van did a hard sniff. "First, you stopped talking to Elijah. Next, I saw you and the princess were exchanging spit. And one day later, you broke up? Sounds stupid, bro."

Primo rolled his eyes. "Don't call me bro."

He chuckled loudly as they entered the lockers. Primo hit the showers, leaving Van with the rest of their teammates. All of them barraged him with questions about him and Amara.

As if he had made a big mistake of letting her go.

Maybe he had.

"Dude, come on. Amara's a catch. Why you fuck it up?" Jordan muttered while he laced his shoes.

Primo put on his shirt. He sat down,
drying his hair with his towel. "And why do you all care so much?"

"Well, if you don't like her, does that mean we have a chance?"

He glared at Jordan. "Why are you asking me? Ask Amara."

Eddie chuckled softly. "But say, the princess will give us a chance... we won't have problems with you, right?"

Primo stood up, shoving his towel in his locker and shutting it with a bang. Their questions were beginning to make him realize that he had been an idiot.

"That's a no, then?"

To Primo's surprise, it was Elijah who spoke. He eyed his long-time friend with suspicion. The two of them hadn't spoken since the hotel incident.

Primo clenched his teeth. He grabbed his bag and stomped to the exit but Elijah caught up with him.

"Primo!" Elijah yelled, grabbing him by the arm. "Is this about Natasha?"

He shook his hold. "What? You think my world revolves around you?"

"Then, what happened?"

"Nothing!" He shot back.

"Primo!"

Primo rolled his eyes. He faced his friend and decided to end the drama and ease Elijah's guilt. "Eli, it's fine. I would've preferred if you came clean to me but... whatever. It's done now."

Elijah sighed. "I guess so."

He immediately noticed the gloom in his friend's aura. "What? You have a problem or something?"

"Natasha and I called it quits," he mumbled with a tired smile.

"After all that trouble?"

"I know, right?" He laughed it off but Primo knew all about hiding pain. He clapped Elijah's shoulder. "It's fine. I feel much better without all that hiding stuff. You should too."

"I should what?"

"Move forward," Elijah said. "Take it from me. Don't prolong this ridiculous break with Amara."

Primo scoffed. A retort was on the tip of his tongue when he saw Amara in her locker. She was talking on the phone as she took out her books from the locker. He bumped into Elijah's shoulder. "Help her."

Eli raised an eyebrow. "Why should I?"

Primo gaped at him as he walked away in the other direction. "Little shit."

He took a deep breath and approached Amara who crouched down to get her books. She wasn't using her right hand that the heavy books kept falling from her left hand. Primo bent down to help her.

Amara glanced at him. "Oh, thanks."

They straightened up. He arranged the books so she could hold them properly. He eyed the phone in her hand that she hid it fast. "Your hand is okay?"

Amara nodded. "Yeah. But I don't use it that much."

There was an awkward silence as they stared into each other's eyes. He scanned her beautiful face, her slender neck, and her sweet plump lips. Primo's fingers itched to touch her. He clamped down the desire as Amara cleared her throat.

"I should go," she muttered. "I have a lunch date outside."

"A date?"

Primo knew he should stop. He needed to back away and let Amara live her life. But the sudden jolt of pain from his chest froze him.

"Yeah. Dad is... well, you know our deal, right?" Amara mumbled, licking her lips. "So, he started introducing me to the sons of his... acquaintances."

"And you're okay with that?"

Her eyes flashed. "As if I have a choice, right?"

"Then—"

"Don't, Primo!" she yelled. She shut her eyes for a moment before a long sigh left her mouth. "Our friendship is barely holding on as it is."

Primo glared at her. "I only want to help! There's nothing wrong with that."

"I don't need it!" She snapped. "I told you, remember? We can't get greedy."

"But Amara—"

"We tried, right?" she asked. This time her voice was softer. "And it didn't work out. So, let's stop before we truly hate each other."

Shit.

"See you." Amara marched towards the school's entrance.

His feet moved to follow her and what he saw only made him want to punch a wall.

Amara waved at a guy standing next to a yellow Mercedes. He watched as they talked before they got into the ugly car.

Primo went home. He slumped down on the couch with his uniform on and gazed at the ceiling as if the answers he wanted would be there.

He thought back to how he had treated Amara. He barely meant what he said. Amara's concern was endearing. She wasn't like his mother. The one who crawled after his dad as if her life depended on him.

Amara was built differently. He loved that she wasn't dependent on him, that she didn't need his approval before getting things done. Primo had thought it was ridiculous how she hid her fangs. He wanted everyone to see how deadly her beauty was.

And he had gotten it.

But the first thing he did was fuck it up.

"Primo, are you okay?"

Primo sat up to see his mom with a deep frown. She set down the tray she was holding and hurried over to him, feeling his forehead. "Are you sick? What happened? Why did you go home early?"

Guilt seeped into him. He had snubbed his mother's concerns. "Mom, please, can we not move?"

His mother took a seat beside him, forcing him to sit up straight. "Are you sure?"

"I don't want to run away. Not like he did. I can't..."

"I understand." She placed a soft hand on his back. "Do you remember what we promised when you first came to us?"

"That you're gonna protect me."

"I thought it was easy. I mean... what's so hard about protecting someone you treasure? But alas, we're only humans. You got hurt and I feel useless." 

"Mom, it's not your fault." Primo chuckled despite the moisture on his mother's eyes. He decided to share what happened in the restaurant. He owed her that and his mother listened as he spouted out the series of idiotic decisions that he had made. "Am I cruel then? The man is sick after all."

"Of course not. Everyone has a different process of moving on." She let out an encouraging smile. "One thing at a time, Primo. What are you gonna do about Amara?"

Now, that's a good question.