It started like any regular morning. The sky over the campus was its usual shade of sleepy blue, the canteen smelled like burnt toast, and laughter echoed from the hostels. Simran walked through the gates with her bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, hair bouncing behind her, her mind still fuzzy from last night's chaos—the party, the dancing, and the damn dare.
She hadn't expected today to be this kind of dramatic.
It dropped during the third period.
> 🧠 Confession 2174:
"Y'all saw her dancing with all of them, right? One night, three boys, and a whole game of truth or dare. Behind the library. Miss Sunshine's got the entire male cast of a Wattpad novel—Z, A, and J. Let's just say, one of them looked like he wanted to kill someone by the end of it. Choose your fighter. #NotSoInnocent #LibraryLust #SimmeringTea"
Phones vibrated in every classroom. Gasps. Stares. Chuckles.
It was like wildfire on steroids.
By the time Simran stepped out into the hallway, she knew. The shift in energy, the way heads turned, how even people she barely knew gave her the look—half awe, half judgment.
She reached the canteen and found Zain already waiting.
His arms were crossed, expression unreadable. Cold, but not cruel. His eyes held questions—but he wouldn't ask them. Not here.
Before she could say a word, Alzan appeared, sliding his phone onto the table like it was a loaded gun. "So… you planning to deny it? Or should we all just move in together now?"
"Alzan, don't," she said sharply. But his tone wasn't playful today.
"Oh come on, Simran. You danced with me like we were in a freaking music video. You let Junaid whisper in your ear for half the damn night. And Zain? He was watching you like he's been watching you for months." His voice lowered. "You knew what you were doing."
Simran's heart pounded. "It was a game."
"But not for all of us."
That's when Junaid showed up.
Leaning against the doorway, hair a mess, jaw clenched. His usual teasing charm was nowhere in sight. "Which part was the game, Sunshine?" he asked softly. "The way you looked at me—or the part where you let Alzan hold your waist while you looked right at me?"
Silence.
Everyone stared.
Simran blinked, throat tight. "I didn't ask for this. Any of it."
"But you didn't stop it either," Zain said finally. "That's not like you."
The tension was suffocating. And then—like fuel to fire—Nabeeha entered.
Her lip curled in a smug little smirk. She walked over, dramatic as ever, and dropped her own little bomb.
"Oh, so none of you told her?"
Everyone froze.
"Told me what?" Simran asked, voice low.
Nabeeha's eyes sparkled with fake innocence. "Oh nothing. Just that it wasn't a random post. Someone… in this little triangle… or should I say square... sent it in. Along with the dare details."
She turned to Zain. "You didn't, did you?"
Then to Alzan. "Too obvious."
Her eyes finally landed on Junaid. "You? Or was it you trying to mark territory?"
Junaid stepped forward. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"
"I'm not the one who spilled secrets to a confession page," she snapped.
Simran couldn't take it anymore. "Enough," she whispered.
But no one heard her.
She turned and walked away. Fast. The voices fading behind her. Rumors blooming in the halls like poison ivy. The girl who never got involved, now stuck at the center of a web spun from secrets, dares, and emotions she couldn't untangle.
And the worst part?
She didn't even know who she was angrier at.
Herself… or one of them.