The te afternoon sunlight filtered through the quad, painting the grassy expanse in golden snts as Bharath, Marisol, and Sarah sat on their fleece bnket, their paper containers of noodles steaming in front of them. Marisol leaned into Bharath’s side, her hand zily tracing circles on his thigh, while Sarah sat cross-legged across from them, her ughter soft and warm as she recounted something from her polymers b.
“So the TA says, ‘this isn’t a cooking css,’ and literally five people look offended,” she said, shaking her head. “Like, sorry for trying to not die from chemical exposure, Ben.”
Bharath chuckled. “I’d definitely prefer a little culinary caution when handling sulfuric acid.”
Marisol giggled, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “And you called us nerds.”
Sarah winked. “Only in a fttering way.”
They were so engrossed in their quiet moment of joy - ughter easy, smiles unguarded - that they didn’t see the rest of the crew until Jorge let out a loud, theatrical gasp.
“Holy shit. They multiply!”
Ravi practically slid into the scene like he was in a music video. “No, no, no. Wait. Who is this? And why have we not met her before?"
Tyrel chimed, "Yeah dawg, who dis fine shawty?"
Marisol rolled her eyes as she turned around. “Boys, behave. This is Sarah. You’ve heard about her.”
“You mean the girl?” Ravi’s jaw dropped. “The girl?”
“The one from the MARTA station?” Tyrel added, his grin spreading. “The one Bharath pulled a whole ‘Die Hard’ moment for?”
Sarah gave a modest wave, lips twitching. “Hi. That would be me.”
Tyrel crossed his arms, nodding like he’d just met a legend. “Damn girl, you even prettier than the version in my head. And that version was already a dime.”
Marisol raised a brow. “You imagined her?”
“I’m visual,” Tyrel said without shame. “Don’t judge my creative process.”
Ravi cpped his hands together dramatically. “Okay, hold up. I feel like I’ve been preparing for this moment my whole life.” He stepped forward and struck what he clearly thought was a suave pose. “Sarah, you are cordially invited to the Ravi Experience?. Includes charming conversation, mid-level dance skills, and subpar microwave cooking.”
Sarah ughed - warm and unforced - eyes sparkling with amusement. “Is that a limited-time offer?”
Tyrel scoffed. “Girl, please. Ravi’s idea of charm is quoting Sci-fi movies and burning instant ramen. I, on the other hand, can change your oil, fix your A/C, and build you a bookshelf with my eyes closed.”
“You’ve never even finished a bookshelf,” Jorge chimed in from the back, deadpan.
“I start strong,” Tyrel muttered.
“I’m sure you do,” Sarah said with a teasing smirk, eyes darting between the two of them.
Marisol leaned closer to Bharath and whispered, “Is this what you felt like watching Mia and me go at it?”
Bharath chuckled, eyes still on the circus in front of him. “I think this is worse. At least you weren’t trying to assemble IKEA furniture as a mating dance.”
Sarah, now clearly enjoying the spotlight, rested her chin on her hand. “So let me get this straight. One of you can cook badly but dance okay, and the other one owns a power drill?”
“Multiple drills,” Tyrel said, puffing up his chest. “And a socket wrench set.”
“I also know all the words to ‘Hero’ by Enrique Iglesias,” Ravi added, striking a tragic expression and clutching his chest.
“Oh wow,” Sarah muttered through a ugh. “That’s dangerously close to bribery.”
“I’ll take dangerously close,” Ravi winked.
Jorge leaned toward Cami, stage-whispering, “We’re witnessing the birth of a new triangle. Lord help us.”
Cami, who had been quiet until now, tilted her head curiously at Sarah. “She’s got the whole Pyboy pymate meets grad student vibe. I get it.”
Sarah raised a brow. “Should I be fttered or concerned?”
“Fttered,” Cami replied with a half-smile. “You’ve clearly passed the vibe check.”
“I haven’t even taken the quiz,” Sarah said, mock-panicked.
“Don’t worry,” Ravi said. “It's an open book and I’ll help you all the way. And you get extra credit for ughing at Tyrel’s jokes.”
“I’m the only reason these jokes are funny,” Tyrel shot back.
“Because you’re the punchline,” Jorge quipped.
Marisol finally held up a hand. “Alright, alright. If we let this go on any longer, they’ll start trying to arm wrestle for her.”
“I was just about to suggest that!” Tyrel said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Of course you were,” Bharath said dryly. “You can barely contain yourself around power tools and pretty girls.”
“Facts,” Tyrel said without shame.
Sarah, still giggling, put her hands up. “Okay, okay. You’re all insane - but in the good way.”
Bharath smiled. “You’ll get used to it.”
“I think I already am,” she said, giving Marisol a quiet, grateful gnce.
Marisol winked. “Welcome to the madness.”
The light was snting through the leaves above, turning the grass golden and dappled as Sarah sat cross-legged on the edge of the bench, her empty noodle container crumpled beside her. Her ugh still lingered in her chest - the echo of Tyrel and Ravi’s antics bouncing around her heart like warmth she hadn’t known she was missing.
She gnced at Ravi, now halfway through what had to be the third retelling of his high school “date disaster” - complete with grand gestures and pitiful results. Tyrel kept interrupting, trying to top him with a tale involving a mechanical bull, a cowboy hat, and a sprained ankle. It was like watching two puppies vying for attention, and she had to admit…
It was adorable.
They were adorable.
The way they competed was so open, so earnest - no malice, no toxicity. Just goofy, pyful bravado. She couldn’t remember the st time someone flirted with her without trying to own her. Without expecting something immediately in return.
And God - it felt good to ugh.
She smiled, tucking her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. Jorge had slid into the circle quietly, offering dry commentary that Cami - cool, beautiful Cami - punctuated with sharp gnces and unexpected wit. They were interesting. Banced in a way she didn’t expect. Like a quiet current beneath the louder waves of the others.
They have something, she thought, watching them.
They all did.
This group - this strange, beautiful, chaotic mix - was alive. Connected. Built on little in-jokes and unspoken trust. Even the teasing had edges softened by care. Nobody cut too deep. Nobody seemed to need to be the center.
She missed this.
No - if she was being honest - she’d never had this.
Her old life was about performance. Appearing happy. Appearing successful despite living through hell with Derek. She never had a real friend. She had become an expert at faking ughter, at dressing up loneliness in lip gloss and confidence.
But this?
This was something else.
She looked to the side - and her breath caught.
Marisol was curled against Bharath’s side, her head resting on his shoulder. Bharath’s arm was slung around her waist in a loose, absentminded gesture - the kind that said mine without a word. His fingers were idly tracing circles over the hem of her top, like her skin was the gravity that kept him anchored to Earth.
They weren’t even kissing.
They didn’t have to.
Everything about them radiated intimacy. The kind you couldn’t fake. That warm, quiet magnetism that came when people truly saw each other. Loved each other. Trusted each other.
Sarah’s heart clenched - not with jealousy, but yearning.
I want that.
Not just the touch. Not just the attention. But the belonging.
The safety.
She looked away before she could spiral. Before that ache - so old, so familiar - could take over. She took a breath and reminded herself that she was here now. That they had welcomed her. That Marisol had hugged her kissed her temple like a sister, and Bharath had held her close whispering that everything would be ok when she was shaking, and both of them had made her feel like she mattered.
Even if it wasn’t romantic. Even if it never was.
But what if it could be?
The thought drifted in uninvited.
She shook it off. It was too soon. Too raw. Her heart hadn’t fully mended yet - and theirs was still too sacred to trespass on.
Heal first, she told herself. Become someone worthy of the kind of love they offer.
She let herself watch them again - this time with softer eyes.
If she could just stay close, just be a part of their world, that would be enough.
For now.
Maybe one day…
She let the thought trail off as Ravi dramatically colpsed into the grass beside her, moaning about Tyrel’s “unfair advantage” of “having actual biceps.”
Sarah ughed again - open, full - and leaned back on her hands, the sun catching in her hair. She tilted her face toward the sun, smiling gently, and wondered - for the first time - what tomorrow might bring.