VOICEOVER
The morning after a bomb, you expect sirens and smoke. But real bombs are quiet. They don't announce themselves. You wake up, brush your teeth, and then remember: everything is different now. The world didn't end. It just tilted. And you have to learn how to walk on a slope.
AARON – THE DORM, 6:00 AM
Aaron hadn't slept.
He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The water stain looked like a map of a country that didn't exist. His phone was on his chest. He'd read the texts twenty times.
Zizi (12:01 AM): I'm sorry. But someone had to say it.
Vicky (12:15 AM): I know. Don't talk to me.
Mandy (12:47 AM): Are you awake?
He hadn't replied to any of them.
Charlie was still asleep, his mouth open, a line of drool connecting his lip to the pillow. Wesley was gone; his bed was made with military precision. Oliver was sitting on his own bed, legs crossed, eyes closed. Meditating. Or pretending to.
"You look like shit," Oliver said without opening his eyes.
"I feel like shit."
"Good. That's appropriate."
Aaron sat up. His head pounded. "How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Stay calm. After everything."
Oliver opened his eyes. "I almost died. After that, everything else is just noise."
Aaron wanted to argue. He didn't.
His phone buzzed.
Kosi (6:15 AM): Zizi told me what happened. You want to talk or you want to pretend you're fine?
Kosi. Zizi's twin brother. Aaron's actual best friend. The one who wasn't tangled in the drama. The one who just listened.
Aaron (6:16 AM): Pretend.
Kosi (6:16 AM): Cool. Meet me at the cafeteria. I'll bring the fake smiles.
THE CAFETERIA – 7:30 AM
The cafeteria was half-empty. Hangover hour.
Kosi was already there, sitting at a corner table, a cup of tea in his hands. He was tall, like Zizi, with the same sharp eyes. But his mouth was softer, and he smiled more. He was wearing a hoodie that said "I DON'T KNOW" in block letters.
Aaron sat down across from him.
"You look like a corpse," Kosi said.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it's true."
Kosi pushed a cup of tea toward him. "Drink. Then talk. Or don't. I'm here for the food."
Aaron almost smiled. Almost.
They sat in silence for a while. Kosi didn't push. That's why Aaron trusted him.
"Vicky knows," Aaron said finally.
"About Mandy?"
"Yeah."
"What did she say?"
"She didn't. She just walked away."
Kosi nodded. "That's worse than screaming."
"I know."
"Do you love Mandy?"
Aaron stared at his tea. "I don't know."
"Do you love Vicky?"
"I don't know that either."
Kosi leaned back. "Then maybe you should figure it out before you ruin everyone's lives. Including your own."
"That's harsh."
"That's honest. There's a difference."
Aaron looked at him. "Why are you still my friend?"
"Because someone has to be." Kosi stood up. "Now eat something. You're no good to anyone dead."
He walked away.
Aaron sat alone, staring at the steam rising from his cup.
AARON'S WORKPLACE – THE CLINIC, LATER THAT MORNING
Aaron worked at the campus clinic two days a week. It was part of his medical training. He took vitals, cleaned wounds, handed out ibuprofen like candy.
Today, he was grateful for the distraction.
The clinic was small; white walls, fluorescent lights, the smell of antiseptic and old magazines. A few students sat in the waiting area, coughing, sneezing, pretending to be sicker than they were.
Chuks was at the front desk.
Chuks was a big guy. Not tall; wide. The kind of wide that made you think "this man enjoys life." He was wearing scrubs that looked two sizes too small, and he didn't care. His head was shaved. His smile was permanent.
"Arie!" Chuks called out. "My favorite medical student. You look like someone killed your dog."
"Not now, Chuks."
"No, no, no. You come here with that long face. The patients will think we're a funeral home." Chuks stood up, walked over, put an arm around Aaron. "Listen to me. Whatever is wrong, it will pass. Women? They come and go. Grades? You can retake exams. But a bad attitude? That stays. So smile. Even if it's fake. Fake it until you become it."
"I don't think that's how the saying goes."
"It is now."
Chuks patted his back and walked away, whistling.
Aaron shook his head. But his mouth twitched.
That was Chuks. Annoying. Loud. The most confident fat man on campus. He had a new girlfriend every week. He told stories about his escapades that made everyone uncomfortable. And somehow, he was always happy.
Aaron envied him.
THE CLINIC – LATER
A girl came in with a sprained ankle. Aaron wrapped it. She thanked him. He felt nothing.
A guy came in with a rash. Aaron gave him cream. He felt nothing.
Then Mandy walked in.
She was wearing jeans and a simple top. No makeup. Her hair was pulled back. She looked tired.
"I'm not here for you," she said. "I'm here for a prescription refill."
"I didn't say anything."
"Your face said it."
She sat in the waiting area. Aaron went back to work. They didn't speak.
Chuks watched from the desk. He looked at Aaron. Then at Mandy. Then back at Aaron.
"Ah," Chuks said quietly. "So that's the one."
"Shut up."
"I'm just saying. She's pretty. But she has sad eyes. That's dangerous."
"You don't know anything."
"I know enough." Chuks leaned back in his chair. "My advice? Stay away. Sad eyes will break your heart. And not the fun way."
Aaron ignored him.
But he couldn't stop looking at Mandy.
She was staring at the floor.
WESLEY AND PECULIAR – THE PARKING LOT, AFTERNOON
Wesley's car was a gift from his father. A black SUV, new, expensive. He didn't drive it often; he said it made him look like a "nepo baby." But today, he was sitting in the driver's seat, the engine off, the windows down.
Peculiar sat in the passenger seat, her feet on the dashboard.
"You're an idiot," she said.
"For what?"
"For sleeping with Cynthia. Charlie is your friend."
"Charlie asked me to talk to her."
"He didn't ask you to fuck her."
Wesley shrugged. "She wanted to. I wanted to. What's the problem?"
Peculiar stared at him. "You really don't see it, do you?"
"See what?"
"That you're a terrible person."
Wesley laughed. "I'm not terrible. I'm honest."
"You're honest about being terrible. That's not a compliment."
He looked at her. His sister. The only person who could call him out and make him listen.
"Dad would kill me if he knew," Wesley said.
"About Cynthia?"
"About everything. The girls. The attitude. The lack of ambition."
"Dad is a nepo baby too. He just pretends he's not."
Wesley laughed again. Real this time. "You're the only one who gets it."
"That's because I'm the only one who has to live with you."
Peculiar pulled out her phone. Scrolled. "By the way, I told Oliver I'm bi."
Wesley's face went still. "What did he say?"
"He said 'okay.'"
"That's it?"
"That's it. He didn't freak out. He didn't ask weird questions. He just... accepted it."
Wesley was quiet. "He's good for you."
"I know."
"But if he hurts you—"
"You'll what? Kill him? You're not a killer, Wesley. You're just an asshole."
He nodded. "Fair."
They sat in silence. The sun was warm. The campus was quiet.
Peculiar reached over and squeezed his hand.
"I love you," she said. "Even when you're an asshole."
"Same."
She smiled. He smiled.
For a moment, they were just siblings. Not the nepo baby and the bi sister. Just kids who shared a father and a last name and a lifetime of secrets.
THE DORM – NIGHT
Aaron sat on his bed, alone.
Charlie was at the library. Wesley was out. Oliver was at a meeting.
His phone buzzed.
Mandy (9:15 PM): I saw you today. At the clinic.
Aaron (9:16 PM): I know.
Mandy (9:16 PM): You looked sad.
Aaron (9:17 PM): I am sad.
Mandy (9:17 PM): Me too.
He stared at the screen. He wanted to call her. He wanted to go to her. He wanted to forget everything and just be with her.
He didn't.
Aaron (9:18 PM): We can't do this.
Mandy (9:18 PM): I know.
Aaron (9:19 PM): Then why are you texting me?
Mandy (9:19 PM): Because I don't know how to stop.
He put the phone down.
The room was quiet.
Somewhere, in another building, Vicky was crying. Somewhere, Jon was drinking. Somewhere, Ese was watching.
And Aaron was alone.
Again.
Always.
VOICEOVER
The morning after the bomb, the world didn't end. It just tilted. And everyone had to learn how to walk on a slope. Some would fall. Some would fly. Most would just stumble along, pretending they knew where they were going. That's the thing about college. It's not about finding yourself. It's about surviving yourself. And everyone, eventually, gets tired of running.