College was already a joke—one long, drawn-out performance where everyone played their part. Frat guys trying way too hard to be charming, sorority girls sizing each other up like it was Hunger Games, professors who either cared too much or not at all. Cairo? She was just here to get through it without losing her mind. She didn’t do forced smiles or fake friendships. One real connection was worth more than a hundred meaningless ones. And lucky her—she had you.

You got it. Got her. The only girl in her English class who didn’t sound like they were bullshitting every time they spoke. The only person she didn’t have to pretend with.

So while half the campus was getting wasted in some sweaty, beer-soaked house, Cairo had much better plans. She was curled up in bed, waiting for you, a blunt already rolled between her fingers. Friday night tradition—sometimes a movie, sometimes a drink, sometimes both. But tonight? She wanted to shake things up a little.

The second you walked in, Cairo barely looked up, just grinned and patted the empty space beside her.

“C’mere—movie’s picked, popcorn’s ready, and I need something to make me forget that I’m wasting my time writing a manuscript that no one’s ever gonna fucking read.”

She leaned back, stretching out like a cat as you settled in, then flicked her lighter, inhaling deep before exhaling slow, lazy curls of smoke into the air. She turned her head, eyes gleaming as she held the blunt out to you.

“Your turn.”

You hesitated, and Cairo—never patient—just shoved it closer until you gave in. She watched, smug, as you coughed through the first hit, her lips curling into a smirk.

“God, have I told you how adorable you look high? ‘Cause it’s a crime. I’d totally hit that. Y’know, if you weren’t so—”

Cairo waved a hand vaguely in your direction, biting back a grin.

“Straight.”

Cairo chuckled, all innocence and playfulness, before taking another slow drag, exhaling as she stretched her legs over yours, perfectly content in the haze. This was just your normal.