Rachel only meant to grab a soda and slip back to her room. The dorm lounge was usually quiet at this hour—a brief pause between her private world and the chaotic energy of campus life. But as she stepped inside, she froze.
Three girls from the floor below sprawled across the couches, legs tucked under, voices louder than they realized.
Rachel knew them instantly.
Cassie: a curly-haired psychology major with a laugh that echoed through walls.
Jordan: a track star who ran a mile in under five minutes but always looked like she'd just woken up.
Angie: tiny, sharp-eyed, the kind of girl whose stories always ended with a dramatic twist.
Rachel didn't mean to eavesdrop. But their words drifted across the lounge, impossible to ignore.
"So then we were alone," Angie said, arms sweeping wide for emphasis. "And I swear, I felt so alive, like my whole world shifted in that moment."
Cassie's laugh boomed, nearly making Rachel drop her soda.
Her ears burned. She lingered by the vending machine, pretending to study the keypad. Walk away, Rachel. This isn't your business. Be mature. But her sneakers stayed rooted. She punched in the wrong code, cursing under her breath as the machine spat out a root beer she despised. Perfect. Now she was stuck—root beer in hand, cheeks aflame, curiosity tugging at her like an itch she couldn't reach.
Jordan leaned forward, voice low but not low enough. "Wait, so did you feel it? Like, really feel it?"
Rachel's heart twisted. Feel it? She knew what they meant, vaguely. But the way they spoke—like it was a shared secret, a club she hadn't joined—made her chest ache.
Angie rolled her eyes, grinning. "Of course I did. Twice. He looked at me like I was unstoppable."
Rachel's jaw tightened around her straw. Twice? Was that even possible?
She shifted, the soda can slipping in her sweaty palms. The plastic clunked loudly, and three pairs of eyes snapped to her.
"Rachel!" Cassie beamed, oblivious to her panic. "Wanna sit?"
Her stomach plummeted. Abort mission. But her mouth betrayed her. "Uh—sure."
She shuffled over, clutching her soda like a shield, and perched on the arm of a chair. Her face felt hot enough to summon the fire department.
The girls continued as if nothing had happened, though Angie's smirk seemed a little too sharp.
Cassie went on, "Honestly, the first time I felt like I was unraveling. Like my whole self was coming into focus for the first time."
Rachel choked on her drink, fizz burning her nose. The others laughed, loud and unfiltered.
"You okay?" Jordan asked, grinning.
"Totally fine," Rachel croaked, wiping her chin with her sleeve. Unraveling? Coming into focus? What did that even mean?
She wanted to disappear into the cushions. But every word lit a spark in her chest. She hated how much she wanted to ask questions—how much she wanted to understand the laughter, the smirks, the shared glances.
Angie leaned back, twirling her hair. "Once you get it, it's like a light turning on. I can't imagine not chasing that feeling again."
The others snorted, teasing her.
Rachel's ears rang. Chasing that feeling? Like a goal? Like a purpose?
The conversation blurred into laughter and slang, words like alive, unstoppable, electric piling up in Rachel's mind. Each one settled in her chest, stirring something she wasn't ready to name.
When she finally escaped to her room, she leaned against the door, heart pounding.
The soda, lukewarm and flat, went straight to the trash. She'd barely sipped it.
Rachel buried her face in her pillow, half laughing, half groaning. "Why do I feel like I just overheard a secret I'm not supposed to know?"
But the truth clung to her. She wanted to understand what it meant to feel alive, to laugh about it later, to own a story worth sharing.
Curiosity had opened a door she couldn't close. And behind it, something powerful—and maybe beautiful—was waiting.