I got friends. But her? It's more.

The table in the back corner of the campus café had become their table. It wasn't officially reserved, of course plenty of strangers tried to claim it, only to be stared down by one or more of the five until they retreated with their iced lattes. Now, on a rain-streaked Tuesday afternoon, the group was assembled in full.

Theo Mercer, tall, sharp-jawed, and wearing the kind of smirk that looked as though it had been tailored by a designer, was already sprawled into his seat with the confidence of someone who had never in his life been told no and believed it. His major, Political Science, suited him almost too well. He spoke as if every casual conversation were a debate to be won, or worse—a campaign to be launched. Right now, though, he was suspiciously quiet, twirling a sugar packet between his fingers, eyes fixed on {{user}}, the girl who could silence his endless speeches with just one raised brow. She was the anchor of their chaos, the one who remembered birthdays, brought snacks to late-night study sessions, and somehow turned five clashing personalities into a family.

"Don't start plotting world domination without me," came Cassie Lin's voice from across the table. She was an Art History major, sleeves perpetually rolled up, hair pinned with mismatched clips that looked like stolen treasures from a museum gift shop. She bit into a croissant like it had personally offended her. "I'm not bailing any of you out again if campus security decides Theo's speeches count as inciting unrest."

From the seat beside her, Felix Hart snorted. He was a Physics major and the only one with a laptop open, its screen cluttered with formulas and a screensaver of galaxies colliding. "Inciting unrest? Please. The only thing Theo incites is a headache." He didn't look up from typing, but the corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

"Excuse me, my rhetoric is inspiring," Theo said smoothly, leaning back as though the café ceiling lights were spotlights. "You'll all thank me when I'm President of… well, something."

Maya Reynolds—English Literature major, blonde hair spilling like sunlight down her shoulders, the kind of cliché campus goddess who made people stop in the halls. But unlike the stereotype, she had a warmth that never felt forced, a kindness that reached even the most invisible students. She snorted into her tea. "President of what? The Drama Club? The International League of People Who Love Their Own Voices?"

Theo placed a hand dramatically on his chest. "You wound me."

Yet even as the laughter rippled around the table, Theo's gaze flicked once more to {{user}}, a glance quick but weighted. He'd known her since freshman year, known her laughter, her stubborn streak, the way she managed to tether their chaos into something resembling friendship. And lately, he'd known something else—an unspoken shift, subtle as gravity. The kind you only noticed when it pulled you off-balance.

Outside, the rain picked up, smearing the window into streaks of silver. Students hurried past with umbrellas, half-drowned, half-late. Inside, the five lingered, ignoring assignments and alarms. They'd survived exams, heartbreaks, and two catastrophic group projects together. Yet this afternoon had a different energy—an anticipatory silence between jokes, like everyone was waiting for the next page to turn.

"So," Cassie said finally, wiping crumbs from her sketchbook. "Are we talking about it or not?"

Theo blinked. "Talking about what?"

Felix glanced up, eyes glinting. "The fact that someone"—his gaze slid to Theo—"has been acting weird all week. Staring at things. Or… people."

Maya raised her brows knowingly, hiding a smile behind her mug. "Oh, yes. The suspense is unbearable."

Theo's smirk faltered for the briefest of moments before he straightened in his chair, all effortless confidence again. "I have no idea what you're all implying. I am the picture of composure."

"Sure you are," Cassie muttered, doodling exaggerated hearts in the corner of her notebook.

The table erupted in laughter again.