Chapter 44
by
Me333
Do you ask him about what just happened?
Yes of course you do!
When the call ended, you sat for a moment, staring at your blank phone screen. Your reflection looked back at you, tired, hair slightly messy, eyes uncertain. The call had been comforting, it really had. Hearing Emma’s voice, seeing her face, that felt like home. But the rest? The way James was tuching her, the way Samuel was so close that their skin tuched, the little gasps she made, the weird wet noises you thought you heard…
It all swirled in your head like static.
“Yo,” Jamal’s voice pulled you out of it. He was leaning against the kitchenette, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with that lazy grin of his. “So dude, how’s Emma and the other guys? She and James seemed nice!”
You heared his question, but you weren't really able to answer it, everything else was swirling around in your head. So, you hesitated for a second, then kind of just blurted out, “Did… did you see all that?”
His brows lifted. “All what?”
You shifted on the bed, nerves tightening your throat. “Like… I don’t know. James and Samuel. The way they were with her. It seemed… weird. And Samuel didn’t even have a shirt on. And Emma, she kept… I don’t know, she sounded kinda...”
“Hold up,” Jamal interrupted smoothly, his voice calm, almost amused. “You’re overthinking it, bro. Let’s go piece by piece, aight?”
You nodded, feeling sheepish.
“First off, Samuel. Why was he there?” Jamal leaned forward, resting his weight on the counter. “You remember telling Emma to help him adjust, right? You literally said that before you left. Of course she’s gonna be hanging with him. That’s what friends do.”
Your lips parted. “Right. I guess I did say that…”
“And the shirt thing?” Jamal chuckled softly. “Come on, man. Dude probably just showered. I know him he’s just comfortable like that. You know how some people are. Nothing weird about it.”
“Okay, but... what about the sounds?”
“The sounds?” Jamal asked confused, though his tone stayed steady, reassuring. “I didn’t hear anything. Honestly, I think you’re tired, bro. Still jet-lagged. It’s been a long day, and your head’s just filling in blanks. I know Samuel, he’s goofy. Makes dumb noises, plays the funny guy. He’s special like that.”
You frowned. “And Emma? She sounded like...”
“Like James was teasing her,” Jamal said easily, not missing a beat. “Come on bro, you are best friends with them, you’ve seen them together before all the time. You know how they are. That’s all it was. Don’t go making it more than that.”
You let out a slow breath, some of the tightness in your chest easing. When Jamal said it like that, so confident, so certain, it really did sound normal. Logical. Maybe you had imagined it. Maybe the call had just caught you at the wrong angle, the wrong moment.
Still… a sliver of doubt lingered, quiet but persistent. You remembered the flush in Emma’s cheeks, the way Samuel had jerked suddenly, the faint wet marks on his toned, dark abs. But Jamal’s calm voice drowned it out.
“Yeah,” you said finally, rubbing the back of your neck. “You’re probably right. I’m just… tired.”
“Exactly,” Jamal said, pushing off the counter and clapping a big hand on your shoulder. The weight was warm, steadying. “Long day, new country, new people. Your head’s spinning. Don’t sweat it. Tomorrow, you’ll laugh about this.”
You nodded, letting yourself smile faintly. He was right. He had to be right.
Jamal squeezed your shoulder, then let go, his grin widening. “Now get some sleep, man. Big week ahead.”
You lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, the room dim except for the glow of Jamal’s phone across the room.
He was right. He had to be.
…But as your eyes closed, that little knot of doubt stayed, buried deep where even you didn’t want to touch it.
Wake up the next morning?
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The Black Students Association
Initiation
The plane from Germany feels like a lifetime ago. All that’s real now is the weight of the suitcase in your hand and the sprawling, unfamiliar campus of your new American university. You’re Emile, white, eighteen years old, an exchange student, your straight, or at least you think you are, your body is average, besides the big bubble butt that you always got bullied for, and your new home is a dorm room with two beds. Your roommate is Jamal. He’s tall, athletic, with a confidence that seems to radiate from him. His skin is dark, his smile is sharp and disarming, and his presence... it’s just commanding. He’s not just another student; he’s the heart of the Black Students Association, the BSA, a group everyone on campus respects. They fight for equality, they push back against racism, that’s the official story, the one you would hear in the hallways. But you start to notice things. Little things. The way the white members of their circle look at the Black members. A certain look in their eyes. The way commands are given... and followed. Without question or hesitation. Jamal takes you under his wing from day one. He walks you through campus, his hand a warm weight on your shoulder, introducing you to everyone who matters. He makes you feel seen, welcomed. And somewhere between the campus tours and the late-night talks in your shared room, you start to feel it too. That subtle, magnetic pull toward him. That warm, comforting pressure to just... follow his lead. And maybe, just maybe... you don’t mind at all. This is your semester. Your education. In more ways than one.
Updated on Jun 10, 2026
by Me333
Created on Aug 17, 2025
by Me333
With every decision at the end of a chapter your game state can change. Here are your current variables.
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