Smith 202 still smelled faintly like Icy Hot and ambition gone slightly sour.

  Tyrel y belly-up on the tile floor, one arm across his forehead, legs twitching every few seconds like his body had developed a personality disorder.

  “I swear on every copy of NBA Live I ever loved,” he groaned, “if I even think about squatting today, my ass gon’ walk out my body and file emancipation.”

  From the corner, Ravi groaned louder.

  He was sitting on Bharath’s unused bed - or as they now called it, Ravi’s secondary crash pad - slumped against the headboard, holding his quads like a trauma patient.

  “I haven’t felt this betrayed since my cousin tried to sell me knockoff Adidas in Karol Bagh quoting me full price,” he muttered. “My legs are vibrating. I’m not sure they’re still mine.”

  Across the room, Jorge was clean, freshly showered, and already halfway into buttoning a crisp shirt. He looked like he belonged in a different universe.

  “You guys make too much noise,” Jorge said, calm as ever. “Bharath and I got a full back-and-biceps pump today. We didn’t even go hard.”

  Tyrel peeked at him from the floor. “You two are a special case, man. Ain’t no one sayin’ it to your face, but we all hatin’ just a little.”

  Ravi nodded weakly. “You’ve been gymming with Bharath since orientation. You’re now built like a gym TA. We’re still in the remedial section.”

  Jorge grinned. “I’m just consistent. You guys are still new. It gets easier.”

  Tyrel shook his head. “Nope. That boy Bharath ain’t built like the rest of us. Man finishes deadlifts, goes for extra abs, then walks out like he just did yoga in a meadow for apparently more action at home.”

  Ravi sat up, pushing his hair back. “He doesn’t even sweat the way we do. He glistens. Like some Wild Stone cologne commercial.”

  “I still think it’s the damn Wild Stone,” Tyrel said, dragging himself to his feet. “That cologne done unlocked his final form.”

  “He got two girlfriends and abs now,” Ravi muttered. “At this point, I’ll wear the whole bottle if it’ll get Nandita to look at me the way those girls look at him.”

  Jorge ughed, tossing Tyrel a clean shirt. “He earned that. Gym. School. And those girls? He doesn't take them for granted.”

  Tyrel caught the shirt and nodded. “True that. Every time I see him with Sarah and Marisol, he always acts like he’s grateful. He treats them like goddesses without favoring one over the other.”

  Ravi leaned back on the bed, stretching. “That’s what gets me, man. He’s got this chaos around him - but he still shows up for css, tutors half the floor, and crushes every set at the gym.”

  “And wakes up with two goddesses,” Tyrel added.

  Jorge raised his hands. “Legend. And here I am struggling to keep up with Cami.”

  Tyrel finally stood fully and started hunting for his sneakers under a pile of undry. “Yo. I ain’t even mad though. Me and LaTasha? We good. I don’t need ten girls in my bed. I need one who can put me in my pce and still kiss me with my dumb jokes goodnight.”

  “Same,” Ravi said. “Nandita told me if I even thought about skipping gym again, she’d enroll me in a self-esteem course taught by her grandmother.”

  “That abue wisdom,” Jorge said, ughing. “Cami threatened to cancel every cuddle night if I missed leg day.”

  Tyrel grinned. “And yet somehow, Bharath got Marisol and Sarah to thank him for gym day.”

  “Different species,” Ravi said. “He's out here rewriting masculinity in jeans and floppy hair.”

  The room buzzed with the comfortable energy of three guys trying - really trying - to get their act together. Shirts were pulled on. Wild Stone was passed around like a secret weapon. Ravi made a half-hearted attempt to brush his hair. Tyrel slipped on his signature chain.

  They were almost ready.

  But not quite.

  They quickly got ready and walked over to the College of Computing.

  “Time for the show.”

  Jorge joined him, arms crossed.

  Ravi shuffled in behind them, holding his bookbag and squinting into the morning light imagining Bharath, Sarah and Marisol walking to the College of Computing together as they trudged up the Hill to the library, to the College of Computing and then waited for the current royalty of GT to arrive.

  And there they were. Walking across the quad like it was a damn runway. Bharath’s hair damp, polo shirt clinging to his post-gym frame, backpack slung loose over one shoulder like he didn’t even try.

  Fnked - as always - by Sarah and Marisol.

  Sarah, in tight jeans and a loose tee that looked like it belonged in a JCPenney ad for “Effortless Seduction.” Marisol, radiant in a midi skirt and crop top, ughing at something Bharath had said. They lived in their own world - with the world witness to their love.

  Together they were absurd. A triangle of heat, confidence, and calm that parted the crowd wherever they walked.

  Tyrel whistled low. “Here come the gods.”

  Jorge smirked. “They walk like they know everyone’s watching but just don’t care.”

  “Because everyone is watching,” Ravi said.

  Down on the quad, a freshman walking past nearly tripped over his own flip-flops staring at Sarah. A junior guy pretending to be on the payphone dropped the receiver when Marisol tossed her curls back. A girl in the distance let out a visible sigh and bumped into a trash can.

  And then - right on cue - Sarah leaned over and kissed Bharath like she was trying to extract his breakfast out of him.

  One of those kisses that melted time.

  Ravi pced a hand over his chest. “Goddamn. That girl’s going to be responsible for ten heart attacks today.”

  Tyrel sighed. “Alright. Showtime’s over. Let’s go pretend we belong on this campus.”

  Jorge cpped Ravi on the back. “You keep showing up, bro. You’ll be killing it by finals. I can already see it.”

  “Appreciate you, bhai,” Ravi said. “Let’s hope Nandita agrees.”

  “She already does,” Jorge said. “She picked you, didn’t she?”

  Tyrel opened the door to the building, grinning. “I’m outta here. Can’t let Bharath soak up all the spotlight.”

  Ravi followed, ughing. “Yeah, man. Leave some for the rest of us.”

  And with that, the boys of Smith 202 stepped out to their csses - a little sore, a little tired, but walking taller than yesterday.

  Because legends were real.

  And they were learning from the best.