Their Wonder Years: Season 1: Fall 1998
Copyright© 2025 by Tantrayaan
30: Mia’s Day Out
Coming of Age Sex Story: 30: Mia’s Day Out - Bharath always thought going to America would mean fast love, wild parties, and maybe a stewardess or two. What he got instead? A busted duffel bag, a crying baby on the plane, and dormmates he never thought could exist in real life. Thrown into the chaos of Georgia Tech’s freshman year, Bharath begins an unforgettable journey of awkward first crushes and culture shocks. A slow-burn, emotionally rich harem romance set in the nostalgic 90s—full of laughter, lust, and longing.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft mt/Fa Consensual Fiction Humor School Sharing Group Sex Harem Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory White Female Hispanic Female Indian Female
The door clicked open again.
Bharath stepped inside with his gym bag slung over one shoulder, T-shirt clinging to his chest, hair damp from sweat. His skin glowed with the kind of post-workout sheen that should’ve been illegal. His breath was still a little labored. He was tugging his towel loose, shaking his head.
“I swear,” he muttered, “Jorge is trying to kill me.”
Then he looked up.
And froze.
Three sets of eyes were already waiting.
Mia on the couch, arms folded under her chin, legs tucked beneath her in nothing but a long borrowed tee. Marisol and Sarah standing by the bathroom in robes - barely tied, cheeks flushed, eyes gleaming with something that made his soul short-circuit.
He blinked.
“You’re awake,” he said to Mia.
She grinned. “Mmmhmm. I’ve been very entertained.”
Marisol tilted her head. “Shower?”
Sarah added, “We already warmed it up for you.”
He took a cautious step back. “I just showered at the gym.”
Marisol smirked. “Not with us, you didn’t.”
He looked at Mia, as if hoping for mercy.
“They’re going to do terrible, unspeakable things,” Sarah said sweetly.
Mia bit her lip. “I can handle it.”
“You’re supposed to be the innocent one,” he muttered.
Mia stretched like a cat, her shirt riding high. “I think you’ve corrupted me.”
Marisol slipped behind him, arms sliding under his. “No use fighting it, baby.”
Sarah opened the door, steam curling out like a promise. “Resistance is cute. But doomed.”
Mia stayed in the doorway, not even pretending to look away as the girls undressed him like a prize they’d earned. He tried to stay noble: crossed arms, shaking head, muttering about decency and boundaries.
Then Sarah whispered something into his ear-something about Mia watching her slide between his thighs.
He flinched.
Then shivered.
Marisol licked his shoulder slowly, letting her robe drop, and said, “What if she helped next time?”
He groaned audibly.
Mia laughed-howled, actually-delighting in watching the noble lion tremble under the softest paws.
His eyes flicked toward her once, almost pleading. But she just winked. “Don’t worry, Bharath. I’m just watching. This time.”
He opened his mouth to speak-really speak-but Marisol kissed his shoulder, and Sarah tugged him toward the heat.
“No,” he muttered, trying to resist. “Seriously. This-this isn’t funny anymore.”
Marisol paused. “What isn’t?”
“Mia,” he said. “This whole ... thing. She’s not just watching. She’s participating now. With her eyes. With her body language. You know that.”
Sarah kissed his ear. “She’s exploring herself, baby. Let her watch. Let her learn.”
“She’s your sister,” he shot at Marisol.
Marisol smirked. “Which is why I’m watching her just as closely.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“Then stop moaning so loud,” Sarah whispered, fingers trailing down his chest.
He pushed her hand away-gently, but firmly. “This is crossing the line”
Marisol tilted her head. “But what if the line moved?”
He stared at her. “What if she moves it herself?” Sarah added. “And begs you to follow?”
Marisol leaned in, voice like velvet. “You know how I know she’s different?”
He blinked, dazed.
“Because when other girls flirt with you, you don’t even notice,” she whispered, lips brushing his jaw. “But when Mia stretches on a couch, you forget how to breathe.”
His breath hitched. “I don’t want to betray you.”
“He’s back to the ‘betrayal’ phase. That’s loop three this week,” said Sarah smirking, but giving him a peck to acknowledge that she found it cute.
Marisol cupped his face. “Then don’t. I want her with us. Not instead of us.”
His knees buckled when Sarah pressed against him again. “That’s what I want too, baby. For you to be loved. Without guilt.”
“I’m not a kid anymore, Bharath. I want to see this. To learn. To join. When you’re ready. I know that you feel uncomfortable to claim me. But I know what I’m doing,” said Mia gravely.
He narrowed his eyes, but there was no anger-just helpless affection and the faintest blush that ran down his chest as Sarah pulled him inside the shower and Marisol shut the door behind them with a wicked grin.
But the door clicked shut behind them again. And the steam swallowed his protest.
The sounds that followed were scandalous. Moans. Splashes. Groans. Mia curled into the couch and hugged a pillow to her chest, breathless and gleeful, hearing Marisol shout something about “divine punishment” and Bharath mutter, “Oh god, I can’t take another round.”
Fifteen minutes later, they emerged, flushed and glowing.
Bharath looked wrecked. In the best way.
Marisol handed him a towel. “We rinsed off the sin.”
Sarah added, “Mostly.”
Mia clapped slowly. “That was art.”
Bharath gave her a betrayed look. “You are in on this.”
“Am I?” she asked innocently. Then she stood, walked past him, and just brushed her body against his arm as she passed, whispering, “Or maybe I just wanted to see what I’m working toward.”
He froze.
The girls laughed again.
And no one stopped her.
The off-campus diner had become their refuge now. Quiet, private, with a cozy booth tucked in the corner. It was the same one they’d used the day before, and the waitress barely batted an eye when they came in - though her gaze did linger on Mia this time.
Hard to blame her.
Bharath tried to act normal. Tried to pretend he wasn’t sitting in a booth with three stunning women, two of whom had wrecked him this morning, and one of whom had watched.
But it didn’t help that Mia was sitting beside him. Right beside him. Her thigh pressed to his. Her bare leg visible through the slit of Sarah’s borrowed sundress. And her hand...
He jumped when her pinky casually brushed his hand on the table but he didn’t pull away.
Marisol saw it. Smiled.
Sarah raised an eyebrow. Said nothing.
Bharath swallowed. “So. Pancakes?”
“Waffles,” Mia purred. “With whipped cream - on the waffles I mean. We can try it somewhere else next time.”
He choked.
She tilted her head. “You okay baby?”
“Fine,” he croaked.
Sarah reached for a sugar packet. “He’s still sensitive.”
Mia leaned in, voice low. “You know, I’ve never had someone make those sounds before. In a shower.”
Marisol’s fork paused halfway to her mouth. “Oh really?”
Mia met her gaze with a smirk. “New standard unlocked. I think I’ll need a closer inspection next time. To make sure I don’t miss anything.”
Sarah grinned, waving her fork, “Or maybe you should join in.”
Bharath groaned, covering his face. “You’re all evil.”
Mia patted his knee. “You love it.”
He peeked between his fingers. Marisol and Sarah were quietly sipping orange juice, totally unbothered.
He whispered to himself, “How are they being so cool about all this? How much longer will this testing go on? This is torture!”
But they were chatting about their plans for class now, perfectly relaxed, like Mia hadn’t just flirted with him about joining him in the shower in front of them. Surely she had crossed some kind of line there!
He waited until Mia was in the restroom.
His voice was low, serious. “Can we talk for a second? Like - really talk. Not with smirks. Not with teasing.”
Marisol met his eyes, then leaned back. “Bharath...”
“No. Listen. She’s seventeen. She’s your sister. I know what I’m feeling and I hate it. You’re making this worse by acting like it’s a game.”
Sarah stirred her coffee slowly. “It’s not a game to us.”
“Then what is it?” he asked, the edge in his voice sharper than usual.
“You’re worried you’ll hurt us. We’re showing you-we trust you. Even with Mia.”
He pulled his hand back. “What if I don’t trust myself?”
Sarah smiled faintly. “Then we’ll keep helping. Until you do.”
Marisol took a deep breath. “If this was just about her being pretty, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Sarah nodded. “We’ve seen you around stunning girls before. You don’t react like this. You don’t overthink. You don’t ache.”
Marisol looked him dead in the eyes. “You ache for her. That’s why we’re pushing. Because it’s not just want - it’s her.”
Bharath exhaled, looking miserably down at the napkin he’d twisted nearly in half. “It doesn’t feel like help. It feels like temptation dressed as trust.”
“What happened darling?” Sarah asked gently, holding his hand, noticing how distressed he looked.
“Just ... thinking.”
Marisol nuzzled into his side. “About Mia?”
“About Mia,” he admitted. “About us. About how this whole thing can unravel if I give in to my feelings for Mia.”
Both girls stilled.
He didn’t look at them when he said it. “I know I’m lucky. Beyond what any man has hope to be. I know what we have is improbable. But sometimes I feel like I’m walking a tightrope. Between love and lust. Between right and wrong. I don’t want to risk anything that we have now.”
Marisol’s voice was quiet. “Do you think we don’t feel it too?”
“Then why do you push her toward me?”
Sarah kissed his temple. “Because she wants this. And so do you. You just don’t want to admit it yet.”
“I don’t want to want her,” he said softly.
Marisol didn’t flinch. “But you do. And not because she’s hot or new or flirty. You want her because she sees you and you see her. We can see that. That’s why we approve of her. She mirrors you. That’s why this is different.”
Sarah added softly, “And that’s why we’re not afraid. You don’t fall for just anyone, baby. You fall when it matters.”
Marisol lifted his chin. “Don’t be afraid to confront the truth, Bharath. You do want her. And that doesn’t make you weak, cariño. That makes you human.”
“What if it makes me selfish?”
“Then we’ll be selfish with you,” Sarah said. “Together. You know we don’t allow just anyone to be with you. You’ve seen how we shoot down other girls when they try to hit on you.”
“They do? When?”
“Typical!” huffed both Marisol and Sarah.
“You seriously haven’t noticed all the women on campus throwing themselves at you lately?”
“Not really. I just chalked it up to the same weird things that have been happening since our throuple went public.”
Marisol and Sarah looked at each other with exasperation.
“Bharath. You have been propositioned by at least ten girls that we know of in the last one week. Are you that oblivious? Mia is special. She is not just another girl. We think she belongs to us.”
Mia returned a moment later, radiant and giggling about something she’d overheard near the jukebox.
The subject was dropped. Again. Like it always was. And it scared him how easy that was becoming.
They left the diner full, buzzed from coffee, and freshly dressed. The November air was cool, crisp, and clear.
Bharath walked in the middle again, still pondering the mysterious minds of women while his women wrapped themselves around him.
Sarah held one hand.
Marisol looped her arm through the other.
Mia walked a step behind ... then beside him ... then in front ... then back beside him again.
She was practically glowing. And the reason was obvious.
Everyone was staring.
Again.
And this time?
Worse.
Because it wasn’t just two perfect girls with him.
It was three.
Students passed and did double takes.
A group of frat boys tripped over the curb.
“They added one more! The Prince has struck again!”
“The goddesses are multiplying!”
Someone outright stopped and gasped.
A skateboarder crashed into a bench when he saw Mia’s legs make an appearance through the slit in her sundress.
The legend was evolving.
And Mia loved every second.
“Oh my god,” she whispered, gripping Marisol’s arm and laughing. “Did you see that guy just drop his bag?”
Marisol grinned. “They’re recalibrating reality.”
Sarah leaned into Bharath’s side and whispered, “We broke the simulation again.”
At the front steps of the engineering building, Sarah turned, kissed Bharath full on the mouth-slow and deep-then pulled away with a soft sigh. “See you at lunch, honey.”
Someone squealed nearby.
Bharath blinked, dazed.
Mia leaned in and whispered, “Imagine if we all did that every morning.”
His knees nearly buckled.
Sarah walked off to class.
Mia turned to Marisol. “Mind if I tag along with her today?”
Marisol blinked. “Not at all. But why?”
“I want to see what she’s like on campus. What people see when she’s not in our bubble.”
Marisol’s gaze was knowing. “You’re scouting.”
Mia just smiled. “Maybe.”
Bharath turned, watching Sarah disappear into the crowd. “I’m going to die from this teasing with Mia, aren’t I?”
Marisol kissed his cheek. “Every day. A little more.”
Mia skipped ahead and twirled, dazzling him with her smile. “What a way to go.”
Georgia Tech’s campus buzzed with its usual intensity-students rushing across brick paths, lecture halls spilling open between classes, the clang of metal water bottles and the murmured rhythm of half-hearted small talk. But Mia wasn’t really listening to any of it.
She was following Sarah.
And it was like tailing a comet.
Mia hadn’t expected to feel so quiet. So internal. She was used to attention-had worn it like perfume for years. Queen bee. Head cheerleader. That girl.
But walking beside Sarah?
She didn’t need to speak.
People turned to look. Of course they did. Two beautiful young women-one glowing with polished intellect, the other with golden high school magnetism-strode across campus like a pair of anomalies.
But Sarah didn’t react. Not once.
She didn’t brush her hair differently. Didn’t sway her hips more. Didn’t smirk when guys did double-takes. She walked with calm efficiency, radiating presence without a single drop of self-consciousness.
Mia trailed half a step behind, hands in her jacket pockets, taking it all in. This was a different kind of power. Not flashy. Not curated. Just rooted.
By the end of Sarah’s first class-a fluid dynamics lecture packed with graduate students and a whiteboard that looked like it belonged in a NASA lab-Mia was floored.
Sarah wasn’t just beautiful. She was brilliant.
Confident in a quiet way. Precise when she spoke. Funny when she wanted to be. And every time someone asked a question, Sarah didn’t show off. She just helped. Efficiently. Kindly. With zero pretension.
Mia had spent her life being envied.
But now?
Now she knew what it felt like to envy.
They grabbed coffee during the break between classes, settling on a quiet bench beneath a tree that had just begun to turn orange with the Atlanta fall. Sarah was sipping black coffee like it was a spiritual practice. Mia cradled her chai latte with both hands, staring at her cup.
She had to say something.
“Hey,” she said at last, “I just ... wanted to say ... you’re kind of amazing.”
Sarah turned, blinking in surprise.
Mia kept going before she lost courage. “Like, I knew you were beautiful. Obviously. And smart. But watching you today? You’re just... so good. Like, naturally good at everything. I’ve never met someone like you.”
Sarah smiled faintly, eyes soft. “You’d be surprised how long it took to feel like that.”
Mia shook her head. “No, seriously. You carry yourself like someone who just knows who they are. Like someone who doesn’t care what anyone thinks.”
Sarah stared into her coffee for a moment.
Then she said quietly, “That’s because there was a time I didn’t think I was worth anything at all.”
Mia looked up, startled.
Sarah’s voice stayed even. Gentle. “There was a point, not even that long ago, when I didn’t get out of bed unless I absolutely had to. When I avoided mirrors. When I convinced myself every smile was fake. Every compliment was a lie.”
Mia’s lips parted slightly, unsure what to say.
Sarah looked over at her, her gaze warm but raw. “You know how Bharath found me?”
Mia nodded slowly. “That night near the MARTA station.”
Sarah smiled without humor. “Yeah. What you probably don’t know about is why I was even there.”
Mia stayed silent.
Sarah went on. “My ex - Derek - he was the kind of guy who could make you feel like a queen and a worm in the same sentence. Charming. Controlling. One of those people who breaks you a little at a time, so you don’t realize it’s happening until you’re already broken.”
She took another sip of coffee. “That night, I finally stood up to him. And he didn’t like it. He drove me to the edge of the city, pulled over, and told me to get out.”
Mia’s eyes widened.
“I didn’t even have my purse. No money. So I walked. For miles. In heels. Crying. Until two guys tried to drag me into an alley.”
Mia’s hand flew to her mouth.
Sarah’s voice caught, but only slightly. “And then he appeared. Bharath. Like a freaking storm with fists. He didn’t even hesitate. Just ... ran in. Fought them off. Got stabbed for me. And still apologized for not arriving sooner.”
Mia’s breath hitched.
Sarah’s smile returned-small, soft, but this time it reached her eyes. “That night changed everything. Because for the first time, someone saved me without expecting anything. And then Marisol and I showed up at the hospital. Fierce and kind. They didn’t know me. But they chose me.”
Sarah’s hands tightened around her coffee cup. Her voice dropped even softer.
“I’ve never told Bharath or Marisol everything. Not the worst of it. Not how close I was to ... checking out completely.”
She looked down, ashamed-not of her past, but of how close she came to giving up.
“There were nights I used to stare at the ceiling and think, If I disappeared, would anyone care? Would anyone even know? I’d stopped eating. Stopped feeling. And then ... this boy storms into my life. Gentle. Awkward. Brilliant. And so impossibly kind.”
A tremble passed through her breath.
“His love didn’t just heal me. It reintroduced me to myself. Not as a victim. But as someone worthy of joy. Of sex. Of anger. Of laughter. Of life.”
She paused, then smiled at Mia, tears shimmering now in her own eyes.
“Marisol helped too-she pulled me out with sheer sisterly force. Never judged. Just ... stayed. And held my hand through the fire.”
Mia hesitated, then spoke gently.
“Would you ... ever tell me the whole story? Someday?”
Sarah turned her gaze to Mia-open, moved. “Someday, yeah. When I’m fully healed. When I can say it without flinching. But first...”
She looked down at her coffee. “First, I need to tell Bharath.”
Mia tilted her head. “Why haven’t you?”
A flicker of pain passed through Sarah’s eyes.
“Because I still feel ashamed,” she admitted. “Not just about what Derek did to me. But about what I allowed. How long I stayed. How many times I told myself it wasn’t that bad. How I didn’t leave even when he ... when he started breaking things that weren’t just mine.”
Mia reached out, barely brushing Sarah’s sleeve. “But Bharath would never judge you for that.”
“I know,” Sarah said, almost too quickly. “That’s the thing. I know he wouldn’t. I know that he loves Marisol and me more than we love ourselves. But that’s what makes it harder. I’m scared that if I tell him what I became just to survive ... he’ll see someone different. Someone weak. Someone tainted.”
Her voice wavered. “I need to believe that I’m not that girl anymore before I let him see her.”
Mia’s heart ached at the rawness in Sarah’s voice. She nodded slowly. “That makes sense. It really does.” But somewhere deep in her mind, another thought stirred. What could she have gone through-this strong, luminous woman beside her-that was still so painful she couldn’t even tell Bharath or Marisol?
Whatever it was, it made Mia hold her chai tighter. And it made her want to be worthy of this trust all the more.
She looked at Mia now, fully.
“I was always good at school. That’s what got me the full ride here. But they taught me how to live. How to let myself be loved. How to love back.”
Sarah touched Mia’s hand gently.
“That’s why I need you to tell me how much he means to you. Not just because you’re hot for him. Not because we’re all caught in this ridiculous cosmic web of pheromones and soul bonds and steamy chaos.”
She smiled wryly.
“Tell me because I see it in your eyes. The way you look at him. The way your voice softens when you say his name. Tell me because if you’re going to join us, I want to know that you understand - this love? It’s not a game. It’s survival. It’s salvation.”
Mia’s eyes welled up again, her throat tight.
“I feel it, Sarah. I swear I do. When I’m near him ... it’s like I remember who I wanted to be before the world told me to just be pretty and popular. He makes me want to matter.”
A pause.
“And how to stop apologizing for being powerful and sexual and kind. All at the same time.”
Mia’s eyes brimmed with tears.
She didn’t wipe them.
“You don’t know how much I needed to hear that,” she whispered.
Sarah tilted her head. “Why?”
Mia looked away. “Because I always feel like I’m faking it. Like I’m just some pretty high school girl pretending to be as good as the women around her.”
“You’re not pretending,” Sarah said. “You’re choosing to grow. That’s bravery.”
Mia laughed, wiping her cheek. “You make me want to be better.”
Sarah smiled and nudged her shoulder. “You already are.”
Mia looked back, voice small. “Do you think ... maybe one day ... I could be like you?”
Sarah’s eyes twinkled. “Mía, if you ever surpass me, I’ll cheer the loudest.”
Mia grinned, glowing with something warmer than pride.
“I think I love you a little.”
“Good,” Sarah said. “Because I already do.”
They sat in the golden hush of the campus afternoon, sipping their drinks, sharing quiet, and letting a new bond bloom-one forged not just in shared desire for the same man, but in a deep, soul-level respect between women who had found strength in each other’s light.
And for the first time, Mia realized: she wasn’t just falling for Bharath.
She was falling into family.
By noon, the Georgia Tech dining hall was a swirl of noise and movement-trays clattering, friends shouting across tables, and cafeteria workers calling out orders from the sandwich station. It had the frantic energy of a marketplace crossed with the chaos of a sitcom cafeteria. But at Table Seven, tucked near the corner window where sunlight pooled like a spotlight, things were different.
Table Seven was a kingdom.
It had unofficially become the group’s territory weeks ago, long before Mia had ever stepped foot on campus. Eight chairs had become a tradition-one always dragged from another table. Laughter was the price of admission. And once you were in, you were in.
Mia had heard the stories, caught the whispers when she walked campus with Sarah and Marisol. But nothing prepared her for what it actually felt like to sit there.
It wasn’t just the energy.
It was the love.
“There she is!” Tyrel called out as Mia approached, arms full of her tray.
He stood up dramatically and gave a mock bow. “Ladies and gentlemen, the freshman slayer of hearts. The newest Rivera to grace us with her beauty.”
Mia rolled her eyes, grinning. “Senior in high school, thank you very much.”
“Technicality,” Jorge chimed in, reaching to grab an extra chair. “Your aura is clearly collegiate.”
LaTasha leaned across Camila and whispered to Nandita, “This table just keeps getting prettier.”
Nandita blushed. “It’s honestly not fair.”
Mia slid into the seat beside Marisol, her heart hammering in the best way. There was noise, teasing, overlapping conversations-but all of it wrapped her up like a warm quilt. Like she’d belonged all along and just hadn’t realized it yet.
She wasn’t used to being the new girl. Not since middle school. Usually, people adjusted to her. They came to her orbit. But here? She was orbiting them-and she liked it. No ... she loved it. There was something humbling and exhilarating about not being the center. About being invited in without needing to impress, seduce, or dominate.
For the first time in a long time, Mia felt like she could just be someone. Not perform someone
Ravi leaned forward, eyes bright. “So, Mia. High school royalty, right?”
“Cheer captain,” Tyrel added, already winking at LaTasha, who smacked his arm playfully.
Mia sipped her soda. “Something like that.”
Camila smiled warmly. “Let me guess. You ruled the cafeteria. Chose who got to sit where. Gave the pep talks. Ruined every boy’s GPA.”
Mia laughed. “And made the announcements over the PA system.”
“Of course you did,” Camila said. “Respect.”
“You remind me of me,” she added, and Mia felt a burst of affection. There was a gleam in Camila’s eyes-sharp, mischievous - but beneath it was a quiet fire. Strong girl energy.
Jorge faked a tear. “God, we used to dream of girls like you all when we were in high school. Instead, I got rejected by a band geek who liked frogs.”
“She was cute, though,” Ravi said. “The frog girl. In the photo you showed us.”
Marisol grinned, elbowing Mia. “This is your new family now.”
Mia glanced around-and realized it was true.
Tyrel leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously. “You’re lucky, girl. If Nandita and LaTasha hadn’t just stolen our hearts, you’d have all of us down on one knee.”
LaTasha choked on her lemonade.
Nandita turned redder than a tomato.
“I-I didn’t steal anything,” she muttered.
“You stole my heart,” Ravi said dramatically, clutching his chest.
LaTasha pointed a fry at Ravi. “Keep talking like that and she’s going to start blushing whenever she sees you. Then what?”
Mia couldn’t stop smiling. The rhythm of this group was fast and layered-like a symphony of sarcasm and affection. There were no weak links. Everyone had a role, a presence. The couples were different, but the chemistry was the same-genuine, teasing, safe.
And they’d let her in.
Without hesitation.
“So,” Jorge said, nodding toward another table across the hall, “you’re causing a minor crisis.”
Mia blinked. “What?”
He tilted his chin. “Don’t look now, but I think four dudes have forgotten how to chew because you sat down at this table.”
Ravi leaned closer. “Seriously. I think that one guy just elbowed his friend for staring.”
Tyrel added, “There’s a whole betting pool on who you are.”
Mia arched a brow. “Really?”
“Yep,” Camila said, brushing hair from her face. “Some say you’re Bharath’s cousin. Some think you’re his new girlfriend. One guy swears you’re here to scout for modeling contracts.”
Mia laughed, then feigned seriousness. “What if I’m all three?”
Camila nearly spit out her drink. “No primita energy from you, girl.”
Sarah giggled, her hand resting subtly on Mia’s thigh under the table. “No one energy either.”
Mia flushed, but the smile wouldn’t leave her face.
She didn’t miss the way the other girls looked at her when she joined in the banter.
They weren’t just being polite.
They liked her.
And they were letting her belong.
Even the guys, in their chaotic, borderline - dumb ways, were openly sweet. Jorge offered her half his cookie without asking. Ravi got her extra ketchup packets without asking when she said she liked ketchup. Tyrel gave her his fries because, “You’re a growing girl.”
LaTasha and Nandita leaned in often, giggling with her, whispering little details about the group like siblings handing down family secrets.
Camila pulled her aside to compliment her outfit. “Don’t be shocked if someone copies your look tomorrow. You’re already trendsetting.”
Mia blinked. “I’ve been here for two hours.”
Camila grinned. “Exactly.”
And somewhere in the back of her mind, it all clicked.
This was why her sister never came home anymore.
This wasn’t just college life. It was a new life.
With people who saw you.
Held you.
Challenged you.
Chose you.
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