The first day of the Interdepartmental Badminton Event wrapped up in a burst of cheers and exhausted applause. Students spilled out of the gymnasium, high on adrenaline and chatter, their laughter echoing through the corridors.
Amara slung her camera over her shoulder, glancing through her shots as she walked. Each click had captured moments of intensity and celebration — a perfect visual diary of the day.
"You were amazing out there," she said as she caught up with Nia, who was toweling sweat from her forehead.
Nia turned to her with a radiant grin. "You think?"
Amara nodded. "I know. Honestly, you were the fastest one on the court."
Nia beamed, the praise lighting her up like a firework. "Maybe I missed my true calling."
"Well, if this university thing doesn't work out, you've got options."
They shared a laugh, the easy kind that made all the stress of the day fade into the background.
"I'd love to hang out," Nia said, shouldering her bag, "but I've got dinner plans."
"With?"
"A senior," she said, lips twitching like she was trying not to grin too hard.
Amara narrowed her eyes. "Is this… a date?"
"Not officially," Nia said with a dramatic shrug. "Just dinner. With conversation. And maybe some romantic tension."
Amara chuckled. "Have fun, Miss Mystery."
Nia winked. "You too, Miss Campus Photographer. Don't forget to rest that shutter finger."
And just like that, Nia disappeared into the stream of students heading toward the main gate.
Amara turned to leave as well, already looking forward to collapsing in her room, when someone called out, "Amara! Are you coming to dinner?"
She turned to see a group of Photography Club members waving from a few feet away.
"Oh—uh, I was actually just heading back—" she started.
"No way!" one of the girls interrupted, looping her arm through Amara's. "You took amazing pictures today. You're part of the team — you have to come!"
"Yeah," another chimed in. "It's a tradition. First event, first dinner together. No excuses!"
Amara hesitated, glancing back toward the path leading to the hostel.
But before she could protest again, they were already guiding her toward the restaurant.
The place was a cozy little spot just off campus, buzzing with students and lit by strings of fairy lights. The mismatched chairs, scribbled-on menus, and indie music gave it a quirky, almost magical feel.
The group settled around a long wooden table. Amara slid into a seat — and immediately froze.
Seated directly across from her was none other than Kieran Hale.
Of course.
He sat with the same unreadable expression he always wore, arms crossed, sleeves rolled up, giving her exactly zero clues on how he felt about this accidental proximity.
Great.
She gave a tight smile and immediately dropped her gaze to her plate, pretending to read the menu even though she already knew what she was going to order.
Conversations buzzed around the table — casual teasing, photo critiques, future event plans — but the space between her and Kieran felt like a muted pause in a loud song. Neither of them spoke. Neither acknowledged the other beyond one brief glance.
She could feel it though — the awkwardness. The weight of what had happened yesterday. Of what he had asked of her.
By the time dessert was being passed around, Amara had barely touched her food.
The others began to disperse slowly after paying, lingering near the counter for final photos and goodbyes.
Amara stepped out into the cool night, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. She was almost at the sidewalk when she spotted him.
Kieran.
He leaned casually against the lamppost, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.
She sighed inwardly. "Whar are you doing here?"
"Not stalking," he said smoothly. "Just waiting."
"For?"
He pushed off the lamppost and walked a few steps closer, his presence calm but impossible to ignore.
"An answer," he said simply.
Amara frowned. "I haven't decided."
He gave a small nod like he expected that — but didn't look ready to leave yet.
She hesitated, then narrowed her eyes slightly. "Why? You're not the type to care about rumors."
Kieran just lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. "Maybe I'm not."
His nonchalance made her teeth clench.
She crossed her arms, irritation flickering through her.
"Well, I don't want to get dragged into some mess just because you're too beautiful to be left alone and admired from a distance."
At that, something almost like amusement flickered across his face.
"You handled today... kind of well," he said lightly, like it was some rare compliment.
Amara scowled. "Handled? What am I, a PR disaster?"
"No," he said, voice steady. "You're just... not falling apart like most would."
"That's because I have a life," she shot back, stepping away slightly. "And a rumor is just a rumor. It's not the end of the world."
Kieran studied her for a moment, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly — not a full smile, but close.
"I like your attitude."
Amara narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "That still doesn't explain why me."
Kieran's gaze held hers for a beat too long.
"Let's just say... you're different," he said cryptically.
Amara rolled her eyes. "Wow. That clears up everything."
She exhaled sharply, then muttered under her breath, half to herself, half to him, "Okay, fine. Let's say I agree. This is your last year, right? After that, you'll be gone — and I'll still be here for two more years."
She made a weird, exaggerated face.
"I'll be that poor girl people whisper about: 'Oh, look, that's the girl Kieran Hale dumped after he graduated.'"
She faked a shudder and widened her eyes dramatically.
For a second, Kieran didn't react.
Then he said quietly, "Okay. Fine. I'm sorry for asking you."
Without waiting for her reply, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness.
Amara stood frozen for a second, the cool air biting her skin.
She heaved a long, deep breath, feeling strangely unsettled.
"Why is he... so serious about this?" she muttered to herself, confused and a little guilty — even though she hadn't actually said no.