(Michelle Lui's POV)
By the time Andy finished torturing us with group photos, my cheeks hurt.
There are only two kinds of smiles in life:
Happy ones, produced by genuine joy.
The ones you force for the camera, while praying your soul stays inside your body.
I was doing the second.
"So!" Andy clapped his hands. "Fireworks start in fifteen!"
Lara immediately brightened. "YES! I want the sparkly ones!"
Vince snorted. "What other kind is there, Larazilla? The matte fireworks?"
She kicked him.
He pretended he wasn't in pain.
Jasmine tugged Anthony toward the small lakeside pier. "Let's pick a good spot!"
Anthony nodded politely, letting her guide him.
But his eyes flicked back toward the group.
More specifically—toward me.
For only a moment.
But I saw.
And I hated that a part of me still felt the tug.
I inhaled sharply, turning away before my brain did something tragic like replay last semester's memories or wonder what-if.
Not tonight.
Not after everything.
