"How is sophomore year going?" I ask Priya.

She stirs her smoothie with the paper straw and shrugs. "It's going okay, I guess. A lot more work than last year which is hard because the house is never quiet."

"You're always welcome to our apartment," I tell her. "Mum will be delighted to have you."

"I know," she chuckles.

Friday night, my cousin and I were chilling at a smoothie bar again. Lofi music plays soft, calming tunes and the pastel-coloured furniture creates a peaceful atmosphere. Bold white cutouts decorate the mint green painted walls with meaningful, somewhat hilarious quotes and framed posters fit between. The stools and tables are made of light-coloured wood, and the cushions are pale pink and baby blue.

It's such a soothing place to relax. Not to mention the fruity, tropical smoothies are mouth-watering.

"So there's this guy," Priya tells me hesitantly, her gaze dropping to her apple and cinnamon drink.

I grin. "Oh? Is there now? Do tell."

"His name is Nikhil," she goes on shyly. "And he's so cute. I have a huge crush on him, but I don't think he knows."

"Why don't you talk to him?" I ask. "I mean you don't have to, but boys can be really dense sometimes."

"That's not the problem, I'd happily take to him," Priya admits. "But my parents hate his family. It's like one Bollywood drama! I finally found the perfect guy and his family doesn't get along with my own."

"Well, this is the right opportunity to mend those bonds," I say wryly. " For never was a story of more woe. Then this of Juliet and her Romeo."

" Haha," Priya flicks my straw and my strawberry smoothie splatters.

"Hey!"

"Sorry," she laughs. "Why do you even remember Romeo and Juliet?"

"Fun fact, that's the only line I remember from that horrid play."

"It's not horrid it's ironic," Priya explains and I groan. "Shakespeare makes fun of the so-called

'love' of the inexperienced youth. He shows it as both humorous and tragic that two children would rather die than be apart."

"Nerd," I cough out. "I bet you and Nikhil meet during your robotics lessons."

"I didn't do robotics," my cousin scrunches her nose. "I'm on the debate team and I met him at a math club."

I make a funny face. " Nerd."

"What about you?" Priya shoots me a look. "How's that boy you talk to going? What's his name? Nigel?"

"No, it's Nash," I say and then I stop quickly. "Okay, you got me."

She crosses her arms and leans back. "So what's this about Nash?"

"Oh, you don't want to know."

**

I take a deep breath, looking around the bustling cafeteria. Round tables cover the floor, metal chairs scrape against the grey tiles as students rush around to snag an empty space. A long line stretches from where the lunch lady is serving ladle heaps of white and mushy who knows what. Silver trays clatter on the chipped wooden tables, jeers and laughter fill the air as kids join their friends in cliques.

My gaze is straight ahead at one of the more sublime tables, filled with Junior students in sports uniforms. The popular table. Wherein sits Clarissa and Jake at the head, leading the conversion akin to a celebrity couple as they captivate their audience. Kids laugh, joke around as Jake narrates a story, Clarissa adding her input once in a while as she lays a hand on his arm.

Around the circular table, the others listen attentively, I spot the cheerleaders, and amongst the throng of colour, in black – is Nash. He sits on Jake's other side, withdrawn as he listlessly munches on a plate of fries. As if seeing my gaze, Nash looks up, and his blue eyes meet mine. The whole cafeteria is busy, yet that gaze pins me, blurring the room as if we were alone.

He gives me a half smile.

I melt right there on the floor.

Okay. I can do this. Just ... walk up to them and sit down. Clarissa offered me a place at the table and declining would be rude. I think. I don't know. But ... Nash is there. And he seems fine with me joining them. Jake and Clarissa both practically testified to being friends with me. And I know the others well enough to converse.

I step forward. Hoping my gait isn't funky.

Don't fucking trip, Carey.

"Hey guys!" My smile is megawatt, and all eyes look at me.

Fuck.

"Hey, Carey!" Jake grins. "Have a seat."

In sync, Nash pulls up the chair next to him. I sat down, muttering a thanks without making eye contact.

"You didn't take lunch?" Clarissa asks.

I rub my arm. "Uh ... no. I wasn't hungry."

"How do you manage the whole day?" Bree gives me a shocked look. "I am starving by twelve."

"You only think about food," Chip says, winking at me. "Don't worry about her. She has a fast metabolism most people will kill for."

"Babe, I'm going to murder your brother," Bree tells her boyfriend.

"Stop being an asshole Chase," Dale deadpans.

"Stop being a doofus then."

Clarissa rolls her eyes at the twins and then turns to me. "How was your morning, Carey?"

"Uh, good, I guess," I shrug. We had class, and now it's lunch. What else happened today? "How's cheer practice?"

She raises a shoulder. "Fine. Coach Grey is just being bitchy as usual."

"You think she's bad?" Jake throws an arm around her. "I can't believe Ashwood cancelled prac today."

"Why?" I frown. Ashwood is always on the football boy's asses, pushing them to win every match.

"He has the flu," Jake states in disbelief.

"Or so he says," Nash comments, eating another fry. He pushes the tray in my direction.

I glance at him, confused.

He motions with his head. "Have some."

"So, Carey," Jake begins, and I don't like the mischievous glimmer in his eyes. And the wariness only heightens when he drops his voice in a conspiratorial whisper. "You coming for the race tonight?"

"There's one tonight?" I look at Nash for confirmation. He shrugs.

"Yup, our biggest rivals," Jake's eyes widen like a child in a candy store. "There's this one dude,

Carlos, he hasn't lost a single race. Until last month, Nash beat him, and he wants revenge."

"Nobody wants revenge," Nash says in deadpan. "Stop being dramatic, Jake."

"They do want revenge, right Clar?" Jake looks at his girlfriend.

Clarissa nods solemnly. "Oh yeah."

Nash shakes his head. "That's ridiculous."

"They were the ones who beat me up," Jake snaps back. "Remember?"

"Carlos did that?" I ask. "Why?"

"Okay fine," his best friend says. "It was Carlos's gang who did that. But only because we won that night."

"Yeah, so it's our fault they lost," Jake sulks in his chair like a petulant child. "As if we rigged the last race."

Instantly flashbacks from that night flood my brain. Jake's body lying unconscious in the night. Nash calling the ambulance. Me, frozen in place, panicking. This gang of Carlos sounds dangerous - not to be messed with. No wonder Nash didn't want me to come in the first place.

"Remember what happened last year with Dean and you?" Clarissa adds. From what I know, Dean is her older brother.

Jake snaps his fingers. Nash eats another fry resignedly, giving up on trying to be rational.

"Carlos's pal, came with him. What do they call him?"

"Mad Max."

"Yes! Wasn't he the one who smashed your windows, Nash?" Jake says, eyes wide as moons. "Dean beat the shit out of him for that."

"My brother only gave Max what he deserved."

"Yes, he might've broken my windows," Nash says begrudgingly.

"Why would he do that?" Horror laces my voice.

"I beat Carlos and him in a race, they lost mega money," he ducks his head, and I immediately find the bashfulness adorable.

"Yeah, Max came with a crowbar and just started swinging," Jake pretends to swing an imaginary baseball bat.

"Next thing you know, glass is shattered everywhere," Clarissa spreads her fingers.

It feels like one of those Campfire stories in the dark with the counsellors trying to scare scouts. Making shapes with the firelight and shadows, dressing up as monsters as they creep into tents.

"We got them back, though," Jake says proudly.

"What did you do?" I ask, intrigued.

Nash cuts me a look. "Don't encourage them."

"Stole all their tyres," Jake grins. "Made the buy it back from us. And then we used that money to fix up Nash's car windows and buy new seat covers. Dean's genius idea."

"Smart move, babe," Clarissa speaks Jake's cheek fondly. "Yeah so, Carlos coming is a pretty big deal. My brother is even coming to town to watch."

"Dean is coming?" Nash frowns. "He didn't message me."

"Why would Dean message you?" Clarissa asks incredulously. "He's my brother."

Nash gives her a flat look. "Dean and I go way back. The man tells me when he's at."

Clarissa makes a hmph noise.

"I'll pick you up at eight?" Nash asks me.

I snag another fry before responding. "Sounds good."