By the time Marisol and Bharath returned to Smith Hall, the Georgia night had settled into a comfortable hush. The cicadas had quieted, and the air was thick with the scent of magnolia and impending rain. They parked Tyrel's pickup truck and made their way upstairs, their footsteps echoing softly in the stairwell.

  Inside the dorm room, the atmosphere was anything but quiet. Jorge lounged on the futon, strumming a guitar aimlessly. Ravi was perched on his desk chair, engrossed in a comic book. Cami, visiting for the evening, sat cross-legged on the floor, painting her toenails a vibrant shade of red.

  As Marisol and Bharath entered, all eyes turned to them.

  "Well, well," Jorge drawled, setting the guitar aside. "Look who's back from the lion's den."

  Marisol rolled her eyes, dropping her bag by the door. "It wasn't that dramatic."

  Bharath chuckled, rubbing around his itching wound. "Speak for yourself."

  Cami looked up, curiosity piqued. "So? How did it go?"

  Marisol flopped onto her bed, stretching out. "Surprisingly well. Mamá was... intense, but she warmed up eventually."

  Ravi raised an eyebrow. "Did she find out about the stabbing?"

  Bharath nodded, settling into his desk chair. "Yeah. Mia accidentally touched my stitches, and it all came out."

  Cami gasped, her eyes wide. "Stitches? What happened?"

  Marisol sat up, her expression serious. "We were involved in an incident where a girl named Sarah was in danger. Bharath got hurt helping her."

  Jorge leaned forward, intrigued. "And your mom's reaction?"

  "She was shocked," Marisol admitted. "Worried, of course. But she saw that Bharath's intentions were good."

  Jorge smirked. "So, she didn't chase him out with a chanc?"

  Bharath ughed. "No, but I think she considered it."

  Cami looked thoughtful. "It's impressive that you stood your ground, Bharath. Not everyone would."

  He shrugged modestly. "I just did what felt right."

  Jorge nudged Ravi. "Looks like our boy's a hero."

  Ravi grinned. "Atnta Batman strikes again. And a humble one at that."

  Marisol smiled, reaching out to squeeze Bharath's hand. "He's more than that."

  The room fell into a comfortable silence, the earlier tension dissipating. Outside, the first drops of rain began to patter against the windowpane, a soothing backdrop to the warmth and camaraderie inside.

  Ravo leaned back on the futon, tossing a pillow at Bharath. “So bhai, did you recite the Bhagavad Gita or just smile your way through her interrogation?”

  Marisol snorted. “Please. This man sat there like a monk. No sweet talk, no charm. Just brutally honest answers like a freaking spreadsheet with feelings.”

  Bharath raised a hand. “I prefer ‘emotionally transparent and culturally grounded.’”

  Tyrel plopped onto the floor next to Cami. “Wait, wait - tell it from the beginning. What did her mom ask you?”

  Marisol stretched dramatically, grinning. “Everything. Why are you vegetarian? What do your parents believe? What happens when you get married? Do you expect her to cook vegetarian food forever? What about religion? Politics? Babies?!”

  Jorge let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

  “She went full abue mode,” Marisol added. “And this guy?” - she jabbed her thumb at Bharath - “He just nodded like he was being quizzed in css and dropped answers like ‘We’ll work through it. It’ll be our decision. Not just our parents’.’”

  Tyrel sat up straighter. “That actually kinda rocks.”

  Marisol smiled. “He earned that tres leches.”

  Ravi turned toward Bharath. “And the sister. You never mentioned the sister. What’s she like?”

  Bharath opened his mouth to speak, but Marisol narrowed her eyes.

  “Be very careful.”

  That only made the boys lean in more.

  Bharath waved a hand at himself. “Imagine Marisol… but curvier.”

  Jorge and Tyrel let out a chorus of “Daaaamn!” as Ravi made a show of biting his knuckles.

  “Is she single?” Tyrel asked immediately.

  “I’m not answering that,” Bharath said wisely.

  “She’s still in high school,” Marisol deadpanned.

  “...So in one year?” Ravi asked hopefully, ducking the sock she threw at him.

  “Down, boys,” Jorge said, ughing. “Let the man survive tonight before you throw him into round two.”

  Cami was watching this exchange with quiet fascination. Her brow furrowed slightly. “So... you’re just okay with him talking about your sister like that?”

  Marisol shrugged, tossing her legs over Bharath’s p and leaning back onto his shoulder. “It’s not like he lied. Mia’s stunning. Always has been. But he’s not hers. He’s mine.”

  Bharath pced a kiss on her hair. “Completely.”

  Cami blinked. “Damn.”

  “Yeah,” Ravi said, gesturing broadly. “That’s what we keep saying.”

  Tyrel grinned. “Okay okay. Enough with the romance hour. Time to educate the foreigners. Cami and Marisol, you’re American right, but these three?” - he gestured at Bharath, Jorge and Ravi - “Need help. Pop culture css is in session.”

  “Hit me,” Ravi said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Give me your finest Americana.”

  Marisol rubbed her hands together. “Alright. Quickfire round. What’s FRIENDS?”

  Ravi blinked. “It’s that show with the fountain and white people yelling?”

  “Correct,” Cami said with a ugh.

  “Who is Britney Spears?” Cami challenged.

  “She’s that singer who made schoolgirl outfits illegal,” Bharath replied innocently.

  Cami snorted.

  “Favorite fast food chain?” Marisol asked next.

  “In India?” Bharath frowned. “Does the dosa cart outside my campus count?”

  Marisol poked him. “Try again.”

  “Waffle House,” Bharath said without hesitation. “Tyrel introduced us. I love their omelets.”

  Tyrel pumped a fist. “Hallelujah! Bck Jesus has saved you! You are one of us.”

  “What about American icons?” Cami asked, twirling her hair. “Say, Titanic?”

  “Oh!” Bharath lit up. “That’s why I wanted to have car sex. The windows didn’t fog up though. Very disappointing.”

  Everyone howled.

  Marisol cpped a hand over her face. “Bharath!”

  “What?” he said innocently. “It’s cultural immersion.”

  Jorge wheezed. “Cultural immersion? You make it sound like she gave you a guided museum tour!”

  “She kinda did,” Bharath said with a fond grin. “Very hands-on.”

  Marisol turned red. “I’m going to die. Right here.”

  “You’re just mad because it’s true,” Ravi teased. “You did him like a field trip.”

  “Pop quiz at the end,” Tyrel added.

  “Multiple choice,” Jorge said.

  “Shut up!” Marisol tossed another pillow, but even she was ughing now.

  Cami watched it all unfold - the ughter, the inside jokes, the teasing - and her expression grew contemptive. There was something different about this group. Something grounded and honest and weirdly beautiful.

  She looked at Bharath again. Then at Marisol. And then smiled.