The bonfire was still glowing low, casting flickering shadows on everyone’s faces. Most people were relaxing now, some playing soft music on their speakers, others huddled under blankets.

Zoya sat on a wooden log with a sleepy smile, twirling the marshmallow stick in her fingers, still warm from where Akif had handed it.

Across the field, she could feel someone staring.

Jiya.

With her arms crossed and jaw clenched.

Zoya tried to ignore it—she really did. But when Jiya stood up, flipping her hair like she was walking down a runway, and stomped toward their group with her girl gang trailing like backup dancers, Zoya knew something was coming.

“Oh, wow,” Jiya said loudly. “Didn’t know we were inviting anyone to perform now. Next time, maybe the cleaning staff should sing too.”

Gasps. A few awkward chuckles. Aarfa straightened immediately.

Zoya didn’t even blink. “Didn’t know mean girls still existed outside high school.”

The group oohed. Even Ayaan laughed, trying to cover it with a cough.

Jiya stepped closer, fake smile plastered on her lips. “Just saying. People who run away from home shouldn’t be acting like stars.”

Zoya’s chest tightened—but she didn’t flinch.

Instead, she stood up slowly, walking toward Jiya, voice calm but laced with steel.

“Funny,” Zoya said, looking Jiya dead in the eye. “You spend so much time watching me, it’s like you’re a fan. Want an autograph?”

More laughter.

Jiya’s face turned red. “You’re just here because of Aarfa. Or that guy—what’s his name—Akif? Yeah. Don’t act like you belong.”

Zoya smiled sweetly. “You’re right. I don’t belong to this group. They chose me. I didn’t beg.”

Everyone went quiet.

Before Jiya could speak again, a calm but firm voice broke the tension.

“She’s right.”

Akif.

He had appeared out of nowhere, his hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but gaze sharp.

“If anyone doesn’t belong here,” he continued, “it’s people who try to pull others down to feel taller.”

Jiya opened her mouth, but no words came out.

She turned and stormed off, her heels crunching in the dirt, her friends scrambling behind her.

Zoya looked at Akif, stunned.

“You didn’t have to,” she whispered.

“I wanted to,” he replied.

And when their eyes met in the dim light, the fire wasn’t the only thing burning anymore.

---

This jiya never lets them be in peace!

Keke.