novelraw Chapter 97: The Shortlist
Chapter 97: The Shortlist
The girls moved like choreographed surgeons. Camila laid out profile cards like tarot. Marisol hung headshots on the whiteboard in two columns. Sarah drew boxes labeled “Potential,” “Chaotic Neutral,” and “Absolutely Not” in perfect handwriting.
“Let’s begin with Tyrel’s list,” Sarah said. “Six candidates. One winner. Possibly a restraining order.”
“We ready, chicas?” Camila asked, tapping her clipboard.
“Born ready,” Marisol said.
“Already scared,” Ravi muttered.
The overhead projector clicked on again, casting a faintly crooked light over the whiteboard. Camila fanned out Tyrel’s six candidates like tarot cards, each profile trembling under the judgment of three very opinionated women.
“Alright,” Sarah said, clicking her marker like a weapon. “We start with LaTasha.”
Tyrel sat up straighter. Ravi whispered, “Here we go, bro. She’s your MVP.”
LaTasha WilliamsPhoto: DJ booth, hands mid-scratch, looking like she just called someone out over the mic.
“Powerhouse,” Marisol said instantly. “Takes no crap, demands respect. Exactly what Tyrel needs.”
“She wears Timberlands to Sunday brunch,” Camila said, grinning. “That’s queen energy.”
“She once threw her gum in a guy’s Red Bull and said, ‘Now you know how I feel when men interrupt me,’” Sarah added.
Tyrel’s eyes lit up. “Y’all... she’s perfect. I will write poetry. I’ll stop eating Flaming Hots in bed. Just... please.”
“Plus,” Ravi chimed in, “she got that ATL bounce. She’s got roots. Not like these transplant girls.”
Tyrel fist-bumped him. “Respect.”
The girls looked at each other and all nodded.
Camila: “LaTasha is shortlist material. Next.”
Tyrel slumped in relief. “Oh thank you, Jesus and Lauryn Hill.”
Dani CruzPhoto: Holding a blowtorch and a Bunsen burner, smirking like she knows how to destroy your GPA and your self-esteem.
“She intimidates me and I like that,” Sarah said flatly.
“She intimidates me,” Marisol added, and she wasn’t smiling.
“She once reorganized the ChemE tutoring schedule and took the top spot. By herself,” Camila said. “And she won the Spring Chili Cookoff with a vegan recipe.”
Tyrel’s mouth dropped. “Wait-she got spice and spreadsheets? Oh I’m in. Lock it in. Double lock it.”
“You’d cry within the first hour,” Sarah said. “She’d make you take notes on your own emotional growth.”
“I’ll bring the clipboard,” Tyrel declared.
Ravi whispered, “Honestly, if you don’t pick her, I might convert to ChemE.”
Tyrel snapped his fingers at him. “Back off.”
Sarah underlined Dani’s name. “Possible shortlist. But she’s high-risk. She has very low nonsense tolerance.”
“She once said, ‘I don’t date men who say ‘vibe’ as a verb,’” Camila added.
Tyrel blinked. “That’s 70% of my vocabulary.”
“You’ll adapt,” Marisol said. “Or die.”
Amber RileyPhoto: Mid-twirl at a party, big hoops, electric energy. Her smile? Reckless joy.
“She DJ’d the radio takeover last semester and played Aaliyah, Rage Against the Machine, and Boyz II Men back to back,” Sarah said. “That’s taste.”
“She writes poetry that rhymes ‘healing’ with ‘feeling’ and makes it work,” Camila noted.
“She also cried over a pigeon last week,” Marisol said.
Tyrel’s eyes sparkled. “Yo. That’s soul. That’s the kind of girl who reads your birth chart, cries during The Lion King, and still punches you in the arm when you get cocky.”
“She deserves peace,” Sarah said slowly. “Tyrel is... not peace.”
“I can be peace,” Tyrel said. “I'll start doing yoga. Say ‘namaste’ instead of ‘nah, I’m straight.’”
“You literally just lied to a woman at the gas station and told her you were a backup dancer for Usher,” Ravi reminded him.
“Bro, I’m versatile.”
The girls all tilted their heads.
“She’s a maybe,” Camila said. “High empathy, low tolerance for foolishness.”
“Then what’s she doing on my board?” Tyrel asked.
“Shh! Quiet in the peanut gallery”
Tiffany BanksPhoto: Blond highlights, baby blue mini dress, peace sign fingers, chewing gum like it's a weapon.
“She once asked if Alaska was a country,” Marisol said.
“She has a beeper. A working beeper,” Sarah said. “That she uses.”
“She also once said Tupac was ‘that guy with the bandana who dated JLo,’” Camila added.
Tyrel threw a hand in the air. “She fine, though.”
“She asked the dining hall if pizza was vegan because it doesn’t ‘have animals on it,’” Sarah deadpanned.
“Y’all hatin’ on a visionary,” Tyrel muttered.
Jorge said, “Hermano. You said Bharath was a rabbit for not eating meat and that you hated vegetarians on principle.”
“Yeah. But he ain’t fine though”.
Ravi leaned over. “I’m just saying. I’d go to a party if she was there.”
Tyrel nodded. “Exactly! She’s like... that one chaotic party guest who doesn’t bring anything but leaves with everyone’s heart.”
“She also once left a guy at a party for stepping on her platform heels,” Camila said.
“Shortlisted?” Tyrel asked.
The girls all made faces. “She’s in the ‘Chaotic Neutral’ pile,” Marisol said, pushing her profile sideways.
Tyrel groaned. “She’s gonna haunt me forever.”
Tonya DelmarPhoto: Black dress, crystal necklace, a black cat in the background of the photo.
“She runs the Wicca club,” Sarah said.
“She is the Wicca club,” Camila corrected.
“She told someone in the dining hall their ‘aura smelled like fraud,’” Marisol added.
Tyrel raised a hand. “Quick question. Did she really make a voodoo doll of her ex?”
“Not a voodoo doll,” Camila said. “A ‘cord-cutting poppet.’”
Ravi muttered, “That’s worse, right?”
Tyrel leaned back. “I ain’t gonna lie. That’s hot.”
“She wears black lipstick to breakfast,” Marisol noted.
“Yo. That’s commitment to the brand,” Tyrel said. “I want a woman who might hex me.”
“You need therapy,” Sarah said.
“She goes in the ‘Possibly Summons Demons’ column,” Camila added, moving her card accordingly.
Tyrel sighed. “That’s the most accurate thing anyone’s said all night.”
Melina Vega Photo: Leaning on a Mustang, sipping a Slurpee, not smiling but looking hot.
“She once took a guy’s pager, looked through his texts, handed it back, and walked away. Without saying a word,” Sarah said.
“She sued her roommate over cable bills and won,” Marisol added.
“She runs on Red Vines, espresso, and vengeance,” Camila said. “She’s terrifying.”
Tyrel stood up. “That’s the one. That’s my final boss. I want to earn that woman.”
Ravi held out a hand. “No. I draw the line at Melina. She’s mine.”
“You said Nandita was your soulmate.”
“And you said LaTasha was yours!”
“And Melina is my awakening.”
“She’s gonna ruin your GPA,” Tyrel growled.
“She’s gonna ruin your credit score. If you actually have one,” Ravi shot back.
The girls all turned to each other and said in perfect sync: “Denied.”
Melina’s photo was moved to the Wildcard Box. “She will be assigned at random if chaos calls for it,” Sarah intoned.
“Chaos calls for her every day,” Tyrel said reverently.
The projector clicked off. The lights came on. The air in Sarah’s living room grew thick with anticipation and Cheeto dust.
“We now enter the decision phase,” Sarah announced solemnly, flipping her clipboard closed like a judge preparing to deliver a sentence.
Tyrel straightened up, suddenly sweating. “Hold up, wait. We still talkin’ possibilities, right?”
“No, boo,” Marisol said sweetly. “We’re talkin’ finalists.”
Camila spun around and began erasing the whiteboard, leaving only three blank slots beneath Tyrel’s name.
“We get three?” Ravi asked, blinking. “You said two earlier.”
“Bonus slot,” Sarah said. “To honor Tyrel’s… excessive enthusiasm.”
Tyrel pointed to himself with both thumbs. “That’s right, baby. Triple threat.”
Bharath leaned over to Jorge. “What is happening?”
Jorge shrugged. “I think we’re watching a man get publicly humbled in real time.”
Ravi gave Tyrel a supportive pat. “Don’t worry, bhai. I wouldn't hit on any of your girls. Except Melina. She’s mine.”
“Back off, Data Science Gandhi,” Tyrel muttered. “She’s already branded me emotionally.”
The girls huddled like a military tribunal, whispering and shaking their heads dramatically. Camila even pulled out a highlighter. Tyrel, watching from the couch, began mumbling to himself.
“Okay okay okay,” he said, hands steepled like a televangelist. “LaTasha gotta be in. She got that radio voice. I need that. Dani… she could teach me lab stuff. Real science. Tiffany… she’s dumb, but like, hot-dumb. That’s a genre.”
He looked at Ravi. “I don’t not want any of them.”
“You’re thirsty,” Ravi replied. “You want the whole soda fountain.”
Tyrel nodded. “I’m dehydrated, bro. I am bone dry.”
“And yet,” Sarah said, spinning around, “not everyone gets a trophy.”
“Damn,” Tyrel whispered.
Bharath spoke softly. “They’re about to decide your fate, macha.”
Tyrel folded his hands in prayer. “Black Jesus, Tupac, and Biggie Smalls-please guide these women.”
Camila stepped forward with a flourish, holding up a glittery envelope.
“We, the Committee for Operation Trick-or-Treat Hearts,” she said, “have selected the official shortlist for Tyrel Johnson.”
Marisol fanned herself with the discarded Ami profile. “It was not easy. So many red flags. So many red heels.”
Sarah raised the whiteboard marker and wrote the names one by one, in deliberate, theatrical silence.
LaTasha Williams
Tyrel gasped. “YESSSSS. I am seen. I am known.”
“She’s gonna slap you if you act up,” Sarah warned.
“And I will act up,” Tyrel replied reverently. “It’s a cycle.”
Ravi nodded. “That one’s a certified queen. No arguments.”
Danielle ‘Dani’ Cruz
“Oh Lord,” Tyrel muttered, clutching his chest. “I’m gonna start meal-prepping. I’m gonna download Duolingo for chemistry.”
“She’ll never call you back,” Marisol said flatly.
“I’ll wait,” he whispered. “I’ll wait forever.”
“She’s a Capricorn,” Camila added. “She’ll make you fix your resume on the first date.”
Tyrel nodded. “That’s romance.”
Melina Vega
Ravi shot up like he’d been tasered. “WHAT?!”
Tyrel screamed, “HOLY SWEET MOTHER OF HOT SAUCE.”
“You both had her on your list,” Camila said. “She had to be evaluated.”
“She’s a wildcard,” Ravi objected. “Not a finalist!”
“Wildcard status means she floats between both,” Sarah said, shrugging. “Like a hot chaos ghost.”
Ravi flailed. “You said she couldn’t be claimed!”
“She can’t,” Marisol said. “But she can haunt.”
Tyrel fell backward onto the carpet, eyes wide with ecstasy. “My time has come.”
“No! No no no!” Ravi cried. “She’s not your destiny, bro. She’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
“She’s my civil war,” Tyrel whispered. “And I will lose.”