“It’s the third time this week, Diya.” My mom’s already started her usual complaints before I’ve even tied my hair.

Yes, it’s the third time I’m going out with my friends this week. But come on, I have to enjoy my youth while it’s still mine.

“Ma, please. Just this once. I won’t ask again.” I plead, pulling out my best sad puppy eyes.

“You said the same thing last time. And the time before that.” She doesn’t even look at me, just keeps kneading dough for boori. The mere image of boori is already making my stomach beg for mercy. “The answer is no. Go study. Your exams are coming.”

“Mom, please!” I try to soften her up by helping, grabbing potatoes and onions to start chopping for the gravy.

“No,” she says firmly, retreating into the kitchen.

I glance toward the living room, where my dad is reading a case file, pretending he’s completely deaf.

“Dad,” I whisper-yell.

He glances at me, then at my mom. “Vishu, let her go. She did say it’s the last time.”

The sound of metal hitting tile answers him, pots clanging onto the counter. Classic Indian mom move. We may have been in LA for years, but her weaponized kitchen-noise skills remain undefeated.

Dad shoots me a look that clearly says Drop it.

But I can’t. I want to go to that party. Maybe… I want to see Axel.

“Mom, please! Please! Please! I’ll do all the chores this weekend. Please. one last time.” My eyes sting, the ultimate dramatic flourish.

She finally sighs, crossing her arms. “Fine. But be back before eleven.”

My face lights up instantly. “You’re the best!” I hug her tight, then bolt to my room to change.

Logan picks me up and drives us to Axel’s villa. His dad’s a politician, the Agriculture Secretary, and Axel lives in his own separate palace. He throws parties here so often the walls probably have a hangover.

We slip in through the side path. The pool glows from strip lights running under the water. Sunbeds are covered in students from our university, half drinking, half making out like the world is ending tonight. A few bodies drift lazily in the water.

My eyes land on Axel, across the pool, charming two girls at once. My groan is internal but barely.

Logan chuckles beside me. “I can see your heart breaking. But don’t get involved with him.”

I glare at Emma. Seriously? why can’t couples just puke their own secrets instead of spilling their friends’ to each other? She only grins at me.

I grab a vodka shot from the table, throw it back in one go, and let the burn settle in. Tonight is going to require alcohol armor.

Emma and Logan drift over to Hunter, Ru already glued to his side as if she’s been stapled there. I head into the villa and sink onto the couch. Leah drops beside me.

The place is almost all glass. I can see everything outside like I’m watching a reality show I didn’t sign up for.

A guy slides into the seat next to Leah. She immediately shifts away, so I swap places with her without a word.

“Protective, much? I like that,” he chuckles.

“How about you fuck off?” I snap.

“Now I get why you’re still single, you rude bitch,” he fires back.

My grip tightens on my glass. One smash across his skull would be so satisfying. “Get out of my sight.”

“It’s a pool party, and you’re wearing… whatever that is. Guess you don’t have anything worth looking at. Anyway, I’ll deal with you later.” He mutters, then walks off.

The audacity. Who told him my body was up for review? My ego feels like it just got slapped.

I turn to Leah and casually reach for her bag. She’s always got an extra outfit tucked away.

“Don’t.” She clamps it shut. “Why are you letting him get in your head? He’s just another guy who can’t take a no. Focus on why you’re actually here.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I mutter, already slipping into an empty room to change.

The bikini is snug and unapologetic. When I come back out, Leah’s ditching her cardigan to join me. We head for the backyard, me taking vodka shots like checkpoints along the way.

By the time we hit the pool, the burn is already humming in my veins. Leah keeps a steadying hand on me.

“What is… happening here?” Logan asks, eyeing me.

“Nothing. Just some bastard lit my ego on fire. So now I’m showing him what he can’t have.”

We’ve all kept in shape since high school, hitting the gym religiously, and tonight that effort feels like a weapon. I scan the crowd then I spot him, standing near the pool.

His eyes are already on me.

Mission accomplished.

But…why does it feel so hot all of a sudden?

I’m just in a bikini. Maybe the alcohol’s doing its job. I’m about to turn toward Logan when Axel’s voice slices through the noise.

“Well, look who we have here! You’ve been hiding this body from me all this time? I’m wounded. How about we go for a swim?”

He holds out his hand. I take it without thinking.

Now I’m sprawled on the couch, my dad’s fingers working at my temples like he’s trying to knead the hangover out of me. The rich aroma of coffee drifts through the air, the only thing keeping me from curling up and dying on the spot.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter.

“You’re basically the dictionary definition of bad decisions, Diya,” my dad says, smirking.

I pout and wait for my salvation in a cup. My mom emerges from the kitchen with two mugs, handing one to me and one to my dad before sitting across from us.

“The good thing is you got home before eleven, like I asked,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “But I don’t like how you came home. I never want to see my daughter like that. Why did you drink so much last night?”

I have no idea. The last thing I remember is following Axel to the pool. After that, everything is just… gone. I’ll have to corner Emma and Leah later to fill in the blanks.

“I won’t drink again, Mom,” I say, guilt gnawing at me.

“You promised the weekend chores are on you. That still stands.” She slides me an aspirin.

I take it, swallow it dry.

“And, Diya…” My dad’s voice shifts, heavier. “Who’s Axel?”

My eyes widen. How does he even know that name? “Dad?”

“Oh? You don’t remember?” His voice hardens. “Let me refresh you. I called you last night. While we were talking, I heard some filthy, perverted comment about you in the background. I asked who it was, and you dropped his name. Now, tell me. Who’s Axel?”

I swallow hard. What the hell did I do last night? No way am I telling him the truth. My dad’s protective streak isn’t just bad, it’s nuclear. He’s already sent my last couple of disastrous dates straight to jail without blinking.

“I don’t know. Don’t remember anything,” I lie without hesitation.

“You know you do a thing when you lie,” my mom chimes in.

I whip my head toward her. “What?”

“You curl your toe beans. You probably don’t even notice, but I do. Now tell your father who that boy is.” Her voice is steel.

Why am I just now learning about my own tell? I let out a frustrated sigh, but salvation arrives in the form of a car horn outside.

“Logan’s here. I’m going. See you, Mom. Bye, Dad!” I bolt.

Outside, Emma’s sitting in the passenger seat, but Logan steps out and holds out his hand. I toss him my car keys. Emma slides into the driver’s seat and pulls away as Logan and I get into his car, me in the passenger seat and him behind the wheel.

The drive is suffocatingly quiet. So I decide to break it. “Thanks for getting me home safely last night.”

He doesn’t respond. Not a glance. Not a grunt.

“Logan, I’m talking to you,” I press.

His jaw ticks. “If you ever touch alcohol again, I’ll personally deal with you. And you should be thanking me for not telling your father. What the hell were you thinking? Since when did you turn into someone this reckless?”

The scolding is sharp enough to sting more than my hangover. And what is he talking about? What reckless thing I actually did last night? 

Don’t tell me I had sex with Axel. Panic flares through my system.

I look at him, genuinely confused. I really don’t remember a thing. Sure, I’ve had drinks before, but I’ve never drowned myself in as much alcohol as last night. I didn’t think it could just… erase entire chunks of my memory in the meantime.

“Logan, what did I do? Did I… Axel and I…” I can’t even bring myself to finish the sentence.

“Check the group chat.” His voice is gruff and clipped.

My pulse jumps as I fish my phone out of my bag. My fingers are suddenly clumsy, desperate. What the hell did I do this time?

I unlock my phone, open the chat, and there they are—three videos uploaded last night, buried under an avalanche of comments.

I tap the first one. My stomach plummets. It’s me. Kissing Axel.

What. The. Fuck?!

He only asked me to go for a swim then how did it go from that to this? In the background, Logan’s voice cuts through, telling me to get out, over and over.

By the time the video ends, my heart is already beating so hard it might burst. I don’t want to open the next one. I really don’t.

My grip tightens around my phone until my knuckles ache. Then I force myself to tap the second video.

Kill me now.

Logan and Axel are fighting, shoving and throwing punches right there by the pool while a ring of students stands around them, recording like it’s a damn reality show. No one even tries to stop them.

“Logan, I swear, I didn’t mean to do anything. I’m really sorry.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

He scoffs. “Oh? Is that so?”

Guilt sits heavy on my chest. I take a shaky breath and tap on the third video.

This time, my heart almost stops.

Hunter.

He’s pulling me out of the pool, holding me steady against him. My face burns so hot I could probably fry an egg on it. I have never felt true humiliation until now.

Because in that video, I’m clinging to him. Like he’s the last lifeboat on the Titanic. And I’m babbling nonsense to him, only god knows what.

I want to die. I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. I want to disappear into the deepest pit of hell and never crawl back out.

I’ve never liked Hunter. I’ve made it my life’s mission to avoid being alone with him. And now this? Why him, of all people?

I want to strangle myself.

I put my phone down, forcing myself to meet Logan’s eyes. His jaw is still locked tight, anger carved into every line of his face. I deserve it.

“I’ll apologize to him,” I say quietly, bracing for another round of scolding. But he says nothing.

“Logan…” I try again.

“Just… don’t put yourself in trouble,” he mutters, eyes fixed on the road.

I nod, the weight of last night still crushing me.

It’s been a week since I decided to disappear from my own life. I avoid everyone in the university…friends, classmates, Logan. Especially Axel.

I’ve become the new walking headline of campus gossip. People don’t even bother whispering anymore. And Ru perfected the art of the dagger glare. 

I guess I deserve that too. After all, she’s dating Hunter, and I was… well, I’m not even going to finish that thought.

So now, I eat alone. Walk alone. Go home alone. Not even a quick stop at the canteen with Emma and Leah. They’ve tried to drag me out of my self-imposed exile, but embarrassment is a stubborn parasite. It’s latched onto me, and I can’t shake it loose. And the last thing I want is to accidentally lock eyes with Hunter.

Right now, everyone’s probably laughing over coffee in the cafeteria, and I’m sitting in an empty classroom, stewing in regret like it’s a full-time job.

I let my forehead drop onto my desk, the wood smacking me harder than expected. Doesn’t matter. Pain’s already part of the daily routine.

My phone chimes. I don’t even bother pretending to be curious, just unlock it with a sigh. Another photo in the group chat.

I open it, and my eyes narrow instantly. My stomach twists. 

My fist clenches so tight my nails dig into my palm.

Without even thinking, I’m on my feet. The chair scrapes violently against the floor as I stalk out, down the hallway, and toward the basketball court. My pulse hammers in my ears.

The second I shove the door open, my heart drops into my stomach.

They’re kissing.

Axel and Leah.

In the group photo, it was just them holding hands, and I prayed—actually prayed—to every god I’ve ever heard of that it wasn’t true. That maybe the angle was misleading, maybe it was a dare, maybe it was anything but this.

But there they are. Her hands on his shoulders, his arm hooked around her waist, lips locked like they’ve been doing this forever.

My breath turns shallow, uneven. Every muscle in me is screaming to yell, to break them apart, to demand answers. But they don’t even notice I’m standing there.

Tears sting first, then spill, hot and unrelenting. I can’t stop them. I shouldn’t care this much because it was just a stupid, meaningless crush. But the sharp sting in my chest says otherwise.

I feel betrayed in a way I don’t even have words for.

My legs are weak. I’m seconds away from collapsing right there on the glossy court floor.

And then a big, warm, steady hand slides over my eyes, blocking my view. Blocking them. Shielding me from the thing I can’t unsee.