The corridors of Washington DC International School pulsed with life, the air buzzing with whispers and excitement. Near the lockers, a group of girls huddled, their voices low yet brimming with barely concealed glee.
"Did you hear?" one asked, glancing around as if sharing state secrets.
"What now?" her friend replied, curiosity lighting up her face.
"The T3 are throwing a welcome bonfire for Alexander!"
Gasps rippled through the group like a stone dropped into still water.
"Wait—T3? Isn't it usually F4?"
"Alexander's back, remember? And yes, the F4 parties are legendary, but now it's just T3 hosting. Exclusive as ever," another girl chimed in, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
"Do you think we'll get in?" someone whispered hopefully.
"Not unless you have an invite," the self-proclaimed insider declared smugly. "But don't worry. I have a plan."
Their laughter echoed as they walked away, their voices fading into the excited hum of the hallway.
---
By lunchtime, the cafeteria was alive with chatter about the bonfire. Kamsi sat across from Zendaya at their usual spot, absentmindedly poking at her food. Despite herself, she couldn't ignore the growing buzz. Finally, she broke the silence.
"What's the deal with this bonfire? Everyone's acting like it's the event of the century."
Zendaya gave her a sidelong glance, her expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. "That's because, to most people, it is. These parties are infamous. Everything goes—drinks, smokes, hookups. It's chaos, but it's also the kind of chaos people dream about being a part of."
"Sounds ridiculous," Kamsi said, though her lips twitched as if suppressing a smile.
Zendaya shrugged. "Maybe it is, but it's also exclusive. If you're not invited, you're not going."
Kamsi tilted her head, feigning disinterest, though her voice softened. "And if you are invited?"
Zendaya smirked. "Then you'll have a front-row seat to the madness."
---
The afternoon sun spilled through the tall windows, bathing the hallway in golden light as Kamsi and Zendaya headed toward their next class. They were mid-conversation when two familiar figures appeared ahead—Gilbert and Damon, their confident strides making them impossible to ignore.
"Well, look who it is," Damon drawled, leaning casually against the wall. His smirk was lazy, but his eyes gleamed with mischief. "The school's dream team."
Zendaya stiffened beside Kamsi, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Her glare could've sliced through steel. "What do you want, Damon?"
"Relax, Sunshine," he replied, the nickname dripping with irony. "We come in peace."
Gilbert chuckled softly, stepping forward. "Actually, we wanted to ask if you two are coming to the bonfire on Friday." His gaze lingered on Kamsi, his warm smile lighting up his features.
Kamsi blinked, caught off guard. "We weren't exactly invited," she said, her voice quieter than intended.
"Well, consider this your official invite," Gilbert said easily. His eyes locked with hers for a moment longer than necessary, and Kamsi felt a flutter of something she couldn't quite name.
"You too, Sunshine," Damon added, his smirk now aimed squarely at Zendaya.
Zendaya's jaw tightened, and she glared at him with the kind of disdain reserved for pests. "I'll pass," she said flatly.
Kamsi, sensing the tension, stepped in. "I'll have to check with my mom first," she said quickly, the words spilling out before she could second-guess them.
Damon snorted. "Your mom's permission? Adorable."
Kamsi flushed, a mix of irritation and embarrassment creeping up her neck. Gilbert, noticing her discomfort, shot Damon a look.
"Don't mind him," Gilbert said smoothly. "We'd love to see you there."
"Speak for yourself," Zendaya muttered under her breath, shooting Damon one last glare before turning on her heel.
Gilbert chuckled, clearly unbothered by the exchange. "Alright then, see you Friday."
As the boys walked away, Damon's laughter echoed faintly down the hall.
Kamsi glanced at Zendaya, who looked like she was ready to explode. "What's his problem?" Zendaya fumed.
Kamsi smiled faintly, her thoughts elsewhere. "I think Gilbert's nice."
Zendaya snorted. "Of course, you do."
They shared a brief laugh, but as they headed to class, Kamsi couldn't shake the feeling that Friday night would be anything but ordinary.
After school,the dimly lit hallway of Washington DC International School buzzed with murmured conversations and laughter echoing off the lockers. Amid the noise, the T3 boys lingered near their usual spot—a corner that seemed to command attention without effort. Xavier leaned against the wall, his sharp gaze darting impatiently toward Gilbert, who lounged lazily with one shoulder against the locker, a smirk tugging at his lips. Damon paced a few steps away, hands in his pockets, occasionally tossing a glance between the two.
Xavier's voice broke the tension, low and clipped. "Did you do it? Did you invite her?"
Gilbert, ever the picture of composure, raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the question more than he should. "Relax, bro," he said, his tone infuriatingly calm.
Damon, sensing an opportunity, grinned devilishly. "Why so desperate, Xavier? Scared she won't come unless Gilbert asks her?"
Xavier's jaw tightened, and his glare cut through the air like a blade. "Shut it, Damon."
But Damon wasn't one to back down. He spread his arms in mock innocence, his grin widening. "I'm just saying, if you're that eager, why not man up and ask her yourself?"
Xavier's silence spoke volumes. He looked away, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration.
Gilbert's smirk deepened, his mind turning over the advantage this gave him. He tapped a finger against his chin, feigning thought, while a mischievous glint lit his eyes. "You're worried she'll say no to you again, aren't you?" His voice carried a teasing edge, but the words landed with precision.
The corners of Xavier's lips curled downward, his annoyance unmistakable. "Just answer the question. Is she coming?"
Gilbert let the moment stretch, watching Xavier stew. Finally, he pushed off the locker and stood upright, speaking with a deliberate nonchalance. "She said she'd have to ask her mom for permission first."
Damon let out a bark of laughter. "Her mom's permission? What is she, five?"
Xavier's lip twitched as if he were suppressing a sharp retort. "Yeah, hilarious," he muttered dryly, but his narrowed eyes betrayed his irritation.
"Come on, man," Damon teased, walking up to him with a mock-pitying look. "Your dream girl has to ask mommy dearest for permission to come to a party. How romantic."
Before Xavier could respond, Gilbert elbowed Damon lightly, silencing him with a knowing look. The brief exchange between the two hinted at an unspoken understanding, as if Gilbert was steering the teasing just far enough to rile Xavier without pushing him over the edge.
Alexander, who had been leaning quietly against the opposite wall, crossed his arms and shook his head, his expression caught between amusement and exasperation. "You guys are ridiculous," he said softly, his voice steady but unimpressed.
Xavier shot him a sharp look but said nothing. Alexander's calmness often diffused situations, though it rarely deterred Xavier's brooding.
Gilbert broke the silence, stepping closer to Xavier with an almost conspiratorial tone. "Don't worry, she'll come. Kamsi can't resist a bit of charm," he said with a casual shrug.
Xavier's jaw clenched tighter, his fists curling at his sides. He didn't need Gilbert to spell it out—he knew Kamsi had a soft spot for him. The thought churned in his chest, a bitter mix of jealousy and frustration.
As the group began to disperse, Damon slapped Xavier on the back, grinning. "Good luck with that, Romeo. Hope her mom says yes."
Xavier swatted Damon's hand away but couldn't suppress the flicker of a smirk. Despite the taunts, his mind was already racing, plotting how to make sure Kamsi showed up.
Gilbert lingered a moment longer, his sly grin firmly in place. "Don't overthink it, Xavier. Just... be yourself," he added, his tone dripping with mock sincerity before walking off.
Alexander, trailing behind the others, glanced back at Xavier. "Whatever you're planning, don't make it worse," he said quietly, his tone carrying the weight of someone who had seen this dynamic play out too many times before.
Xavier didn't respond. He remained in the hallway, his eyes fixed on the ground, his expression unreadable. But the slight twitch of his jaw revealed everything—the bonfire wouldn't just be a party. It would be a battle, and Xavier didn't intend to lose.