.
.
"Whatever was waiting at that club tonight, it better not be wearing a suit.Regret was probably on the guest list-but so was she.She wasn't ready. But ready had never been her thing anyway."
.
.
~♦~
Karma's POV
The cafeteria smelled like regret and reheated burritos.
Before all this-before we started sitting together every day-lunch used to be a blur of scrolling through my phone and pretending I didn't mind being alone. Anastasia sat with the tennis girls, Gretchen with the ones who talked like influencers and laughed like hyenas. I guess we were all orbiting each other, waiting for something to click.
Now? Lunch was loud, dramatic, and occasionally involved death stares from across the room. Honestly? An upgrade.
I swirled my fruit cup with the grace of a girl who had already mentally checked out, doodling in the corner of my notebook while half-listening to Anastasia go on about how Mr. Delarisé was totally out to get her. Something about her missing a quiz-almost failing a test. Something about him being biased against pretty girls. The usual.
Across from us, Gretchen kept glancing at her phone like it held the answer to life itself.
Anastasia pushed her tray next to mine and groaned dramatically. "If I had to hear Mr. Burzé say 'photosynthesis' one more time, I was going to photosynthe-slit my wrists."
I snorted. "That class has negative vibes. I swear, my soul left my body during the last twenty minutes."
Gretchen slid into the seat across from us, sunglasses still on like she was shielding herself from the trauma of the morning.
"First block should be illegal," she muttered, yanking open a juice box like it personally offended her.
Anastasia nodded. "This whole morning dragged. Honestly, I used to think lunch was the worst part of the day. But now..."
I smirked. "Now it's the only thing keeping us alive."
"Barely," Gretchen said, sipping her juice like it was champagne.
We all shared a laugh, the kind that made the rest of the lunchroom fade out a bit.
But then I noticed Gretchen checking her phone. Glancing. Typing. Locking it. Unlocking it. Checking again. Over and over like she was waiting for a bomb to go off.
Anastasia noticed it too. "Are you okay? You've been acting weird since this morning. Is it-did something happen?"
Before Gretchen could open her mouth, I beat her to it, grinning as I leaned in.
"That's what you get when you've had a guy's tongue down your throat all night."
Anastasia choked on her soda. Gretchen narrowed her eyes at me. "It's not that," she said coolly, though the faint blush on her cheeks told a different story. "Although that was... fun."
I raised a brow. "Uh huh."
She ignored me and leaned forward, lowering her voice just enough to make us both lean in. "I got intel," she said. "Real, juicy, possibly life-altering intel."
I blinked. "From who? Your driver-slash-secret agent?"
She gave me a smug little smirk. "Maybe."
Anastasia's eyes lit up. "What kind of intel?"
Gretchen's lips curved. "Let's just say... someone very interesting might be showing up at the club tonight."
I paused mid-sip. "Define interesting."
She shrugged, devil in her smile. "You'll see."
Anastasia narrowed her eyes. "Wait-'very interesting'? That could mean a hundred things. Celebrity interesting or trouble interesting?"
Gretchen twirled her straw in her juice box, lips tugging into a knowing smirk. "Can't say. Just heard someone with... influence might make an appearance."
I leaned in. "Influence like... banned from three countries or verified on Instagram?"
She only shrugged, infuriatingly vague. "Maybe both."
Anastasia groaned. "You're so annoying. Now I won't be able to focus for the rest of the day."
"Same," I muttered. "You can't drop a bomb like that and then go mute."
Gretchen's grin widened. "All I'm saying is-bring your A-game tonight. The club's gonna be more than just vodka cranberries and bad decisions."
A beat of silence passed between us, charged and curious.
"Do you think it's someone we know?" Anastasia asked, her voice low.
"Maybe. Or maybe someone we should know," Gretchen said, tapping her manicured nail against the table. "Either way... they'll change the game."
The bell rang, sharp and cruel.
We all groaned at once.
"Back to death by equations, divided by denominators" I mumbled.
Anastasia stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "God, I need that club night now more than ever."
We shuffled out of the cafeteria, still tossing names and possibilities around as we made our way down the hall. A DJ? A rival student from another school? A scandalous ex of Gretchen's?
Whoever it was, they'd already hijacked our thoughts-and the night hadn't even started yet.
Later that evening, at Anastasia's place...
Anastasia's bedroom was a battlefield of glitter, fabric, and opinions.
~•♥•~
"You're not seriously wearing that, are you?" Gretchen asked the moment Karma pulled out her dress from her tote bag.
Karma raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I am. What's wrong with it?"
Gretchen didn't even try to hide her horror. "It looks like a Sunday brunch outfit your aunt would wear. Karma, no."
Anastasia cackled from the floor, where she was curling her hair. "Oh God, not the aunt dress."
"It's not that bad," Karma muttered, holding the hanger up for a second look. Okay, maybe the neckline was a bit too modest. And the color was safe. Very safe.
Not my color.
Gretchen reached into her own bag with a smug grin. "Good thing I planned for this moment." She pulled out a sleek black mini dress with spaghetti straps and mesh cutouts. "I knew you'd bring that stupid dress, so I brought this. You're welcome."
Karma stared at the dress, then at Gretchen. "You planned this."
"Oh, absolutely," Gretchen said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "There's no way I'm showing up at the hottest club this week with my best friend looking like a baked potato."
"You're the worst," Karma grumbled, already taking the dress.
"And yet, you love me," Gretchen said sweetly.
"I tolerate you."
Anastasia peeked over at the dress Karma was now reluctantly holding up to her body. "Damn, you're going to look like a problem in that."
"Good," Gretchen added with a wink. "Because apparently someone important might be showing up tonight."
Karma gave her a look. "You still haven't told us who."
"And I won't," Gretchen replied, walking off with a bounce in her step. "Some suspense makes the night fun."
The room buzzed with energy as music played from Anastasia's speaker. Flat irons hissed. Perfume filled the air. Laughter bounced off the walls.
For a moment, it wasn't about mystery guests or who might be watching-it was just the three of them, preparing for a night they wouldn't forget.
The car was filled with music, wind through open windows, and the heavy scent of perfume and anticipation. Gretchen drove like the city owed her space, one hand on the wheel, the other out the window, hair wild in the breeze.
Karma sat in the backseat, her legs crossed and her hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of Gretchen's chosen dress-a deep charcoal, short and daring, far from the pastel thing she had brought herself.
"You're going to thank me later," Gretchen said, eyes on the road but her grin wicked in the rearview mirror. "Trust me."
"I haven't said anything," Karma muttered.
"Exactly," Anastasia laughed from the passenger seat. "Which is how I know you're already regretting being hot."
Karma rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. Her cheeks were already warm.
"So," Gretchen started, "who do you think the special person is?"
That question had hovered over them all day, since the note had been passed to Karma. Meet me tonight. One of us needs to talk.
Karma shrugged, but she couldn't lie to herself. Her mind kept flipping between two faces: Kristian, her fiancé, all sharp suits and silent stares.
"It could be a trap," Anastasia offered, teasing.
"I'm not that interesting," Karma said quickly.
Gretchen scoffed. "Please. You're the most interesting thing in this city right now. Secret engagement, shadowed past, mysterious notes... you're basically the plot of a dark romance novel."
"That's dramatic."
"And accurate."
The girls dissolved into laughter, the tension lifting-just a little-as the city lights bled into gold and neon.
Whatever the night held, Karma knew she wasn't ready. But she was already on the way.