✷ CHAMPAGNE COAST... 🌊🌺☀️
twenty twenty five  (2025)

strike up the band and make the fireflies dance

WINTER WAS COMING.

Except... not really.

Priya's first California winter wasn't anything like she imagined. No snow, no frosty windows, no crunch of boots on icy sidewalks. Instead, Christmas lights  dangled lazily from palm trees, looking almost ridiculous against the endless blue sky.

It was the last week of school. College applications were submitted, Christmas break was around the corner, and most teachers had given up on pretending to care—except Mr. Cameron.

Final exam? Done. Stress? Supposedly over. And yet, there he was, hammering through yet another  lesson like they were gearing up for the AP test next week instead of winter vacation.

The worst part? His new "no leaving class" rule. His way of preventing 'skippers'.

The classroom was an oven. The air was thick and heavy, like the walls were sweating with them. Students had given up entirely, wearing only shorts, tank tops, anything to survive. Pens slipped out of damp fingers. Sweat dotted notebook pages like raindrops.

Austin was sprawled in his chair, sipping bubble tea like he'd reached nirvana. Lana had wrangled her braids into a messy bun with a magnetic claw clip, mutterin under her breath about heat-induced migraines. And Luke? Dead asleep, cheek pressed to the desk, dreaming of... probably not history.

Priya, though, was still trying. Her notes blurred as beads of sweat slid down her forehead, smearing the ink.

She reached for her lifeline, the burgundy Yeti bottle that barely fit in her backpack but held enough water to outlast the Sahara. Unscrewing the cap, she lifted it to her lips and drank deep--

Nothing.

Priya blinked. Tilted the bottle. Shook it. Peered inside like Hamilton scanning the skyline for a way to the top.

Bone. Dry.

The classroom already felt like a sauna and now she had no water. Sweat glued Priya's hair to her temples, her tank top clinging like a second skin. Her jean shorts stuck to the chair, and every time she shifted, it sounded like Velcro ripping apart.

Outside, palm trees swayed in the December sun, mocking her with their smug, tropical cheer.

Winter in Los Angeles was nothing like Boise. No snow piling against windows, no frost biting at her cheeks, just a relentless heat wave in December. Christmas lights on palm trees didn't feel magical; they felt wrong.

Priya stared at her notes. Or rather, at the smeared blue ink bleeding into a damp page. Every line looked like it had been dunked in a puddle. She sighed and dropped her pen.

Slowly, deliberately, she slid her phone from under the paper stack and opened Subway Surfers.

Bright colors exploded across the screen, trains zipping by as her character vaulted over barriers. Her thumb flicked left, right, up, down--jumping, rolling, dodging security guards with perfect timing.

She should have been listening to Mr. Cameron's ramble about the Articles of Confederation and how "weak central governments never work." But right now, all she wanted was to beat her high score.

Another jump. Another roll.

The stress, the heat, the pressure of college apps--all of it melted into flashing neon and the hypnotic rhythm of the game.

Until...

"Priya."

Her head jerked up. Mr. Cameron loomed over her desk, arms crossed, his tie hanging loose like it had given up the will to live.

"Enjoying your... educational research?" His eyebrow arched with Olympic precision.

Half the class snickered.

Priya slapped her phone face down, cheeks burning. "Uh--"

"Look," he said, exhaling like he'd aged ten years. "It's hot. I get it. We're all basically in hell. But at least pretend James Madison matters, okay?"

He shuffled back to the front, muttering something about kids these days.

Priya stared at her phone. Her fingers twitched. Not from embarrassment—from everything piling up inside her. The heat. The exhaustion. The fact that Luke was sitting two rows back, and she could feel his gaze like static electricity.

She flipped her notebook over to hide the smeared ink and took a slow, shaky breath.

One more class. Then freedom.

✷

By the time the bell rang, Priya felt like she'd melted into her chair. Her tank top clung like it had been dunked in a pool, and her notes were nothing but a soggy mess of blue ink and despair.

Lana appeared at her desk like a mirage, swinging a canvas tote stuffed with mason jars and quinoa. "Come on," she whispered, jerking her head toward the door.

Ten minutes later, Priya was in the back of Austin's Jeep, her legs sticking to the leather seats like duct tape. Manny squeezed in beside her, balancing a foil-wrapped burrito the size of his forearm.

The Jeep was parked under a scrawny palm tree in the far corner of the lot, windows down, a faint breeze doing absolutely nothing.

They didn't even bother with music. The silence was sacred.

Priya opened her Tupperware of cold pasta salad with rigatoni slicked with olive oil, cherry tomatoes split open like they'd given up on life. Lana unscrewed the lid off her chia pudding and sprinkled something green on top. Austin had an entire takeout bag from some bougie poke place, and Manny being Manny unwrapped his burrito like it was the Ark of the Covenant.

For two full minutes, no one spoke. Only the crinkle of foil, the scrape of a plastic fork, the wet pop of a straw hitting a boba cup.

Finally, Austin broke the silence, staring into his poke bowl like it held the secrets of the universe.

"This salmon," he said slowly, reverently, "is a work of art."

Lana snorted. "Art doesn't smell like seaweed." She lifted a spoonful of gray chia goop, letting it wobble dangerously. "This--this is truly wellness."

Priya stabbed a rigatoni and pointed it at her. "That looks like wallpaper paste. How does that even count as lunch?"

"It's called balance," Lana replied primly. "Protein, fiber, omegas--"

"--sadness," Manny interrupted through a mouthful of burrito. "Straight-up sadness in a jar."

Lana flipped him off without looking up.

Priya shoved another forkful of pasta into her mouth and groaned. "I could literally drink a gallon of cold water right now. My body's like—" She made a croaking noise, flopping against the seat dramatically.

"Same," Austin muttered. He poked at his bowl like it had personally wronged him. "Why do finals exist? Who decided that? Hamilton? Jefferson?"

"Alexander Hamilton would absolutely make us take finals," Lana said. "He'd call it 'character-building.'"

"Jefferson would've let us cheat," Manny countered, taking an obscene bite of burrito.

They all laughed—weak, delirious laughter that tasted like exhaustion and too much sun.

For a moment, the stress faded. It was just four kids in a Jeep, burnt out and sweaty, clinging to food like it was salvation.

✷

The bell screeched like a dying bird, and one by one, they peeled themselves out of Austin's Jeep. The car doors slammed shut with lazy thuds, and Lana was still wiping chia residue off her fingers when she waved goodbye.

Priya slung her bag over her shoulder and fell into step with Manny. The concrete shimmered in the heat, making the walk to AP Lit feel like a pilgrimage.

"You hear Luke skipped Chem again?" Manny said casually, tugging at the strap of his backpack.

Priya's stomach did a weird flip, but she kept her eyes on the pavement. "Nope. Don't care."

"Mm-hm." Manny's voice dripped skepticism. "He's being an ass to everyone lately. Even me. So, you know...don't waste your guilt points on him."

"I'm not guilty," Priya said, a little too quickly. She adjusted her headband and picked up the pace. "I feel nothing towards him."

Manny snorted. Loud enough that a sophomore turned around. "Right. Nothing. That's why you practically choke on air whenever he walks by."

Priya shot him a glare. "Shut up."

But Manny just grinned, all smug and knowing, like the cat who found the cream. He waited until they hit the double doors of the English building before dropping the hammer.

"I know you love him."

Priya froze. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag, knuckles white. For a second, the hallway noises of the laughter, the lockers slamming, the distant squeak of sneakers blurred into static.

She opened her mouth. Closed it again. Then finally, in the smallest voice:

"No. I don't."

Manny didn't press. Just gave her a look that said, Sure, keep lying to yourself.

They walked into AP Lit together, but Priya's pulse was a runaway train.

✷

The heat pressed down like a punishment as Priya waited on the curb, her black hair sticking to the back of her neck. Austin had texted "Be there in two", which in Austin-speak meant at least five. She tucked her phone away and adjusted her tote strap, eyes scanning for the green Jeep.

Instead, she saw him.

Luke.

He looked like a storm with his messy hair, jaw tense, eyes dark with something between anger and exhaustion. His gray T-shirt clung to him, damp from gym, but there was nothing effortless about him today. He wasn't smirking or tossing out a joke. He looked... wrecked.

"Waiting for your chauffeur?" he said, his voice rough, like he'd swallowed gravel.

Priya stiffened. "What do you want?"

He shrugged, stepping closer. "To talk. You've been avoiding me."

She let out a sharp laugh. "Avoiding you? No, Luke. I've been busy trying to plan my future. You should try it sometime."

His jaw flexed. "Right. Priya Danvers with her perfect grades, perfect plan, perfect life."

The words dripped with venom.

Priya blinked, stunned by the bitterness in his tone. "What is your problem?"

"My problem?" His laugh was humorless. "Maybe the fact that everything's falling apart and you're just... thriving. Like Sarah didn't just..."He cut himself off, chest heaving.

Like Sarah didn't just get arrested. Like half the school wasn't talking.

Priya's stomach twisted. He didn't know. He didn't know she'd made that call.

She kept her face still, voice flat. "I'm sorry your girlfriend got herself into trouble, Luke. But that's not on me."

His eyes snapped to hers, sharp and burning. "You don't get it. You never get it. You're too busy being perfect to understand what it's like to—" He broke off again, raking his hands through his hair.

"What it's like to what?" Priya demanded.

"To fail," he said finally, voice raw. "To not know what the hell you're doing. To wake up and feel like everyone else is moving forward while you're stuck in the same spot." His throat bobbed. "You don't get it, Priya. You never will."

Something inside her cracked, but she refused to let it show. "You think I have it easy? You have no idea what I've been through."

He stepped closer, close enough that the heat from his body brushed her skin. "Then tell me."

Priya's heart pounded so hard it hurt. For a second, she almost did. Almost spilled everything—Boise, the ex, the nights she spent crying into her pillow.

But Austin's Jeep swung into view like a lifeline.

Lana leaned out the passenger window, waving. "Priya! Let's go!"

Priya tore her gaze from Luke's, forcing her legs to move. She brushed past him without another word and climbed into the Jeep.

Through the glass, she saw him still standing there, fists shoved in his pockets, staring after her like he wanted to burn the whole world down.

And maybe, for the first time, she almost wanted to let him.

✷

Priya was halfway through her nightly skincare routine, face slick with serum, hair in a loose braid when her phone buzzed violently on the nightstand.

She glanced at the screen. Austin.

It was 12:47 a.m.

Rolling her eyes, she swiped to answer. "Do you have a death wish?" she hissed, keeping her voice low so her parents wouldn't hear.

"I need help," Austin's voice cracked through the line, breathless and panicked.

"What? Did you crash the Jeep again?"

"No! Worse." A pause. "Lana's gift."

Priya sat on the edge of her bed, baffled. "It's almost one in the morning and you're calling me about a birthday gift?"

"Yes, because the party is tomorrow and my present is trash. She's going to hate it. She's going to hate me."

Priya pinched the bridge of her nose. "Austin, what did you get her?"

"A candle."

She blinked. "A candle."

"Not just any candle! It's, like, soy wax and smells like uh—beach."

"Austin." Her voice was deadly calm. "You've been best friends with her since middle school, and you got her... a candle?"

"She likes candles!" His voice cracked. "She lights them when she studies!"

Priya let out an incredulous laugh. "Wow. Incredible observation. Did you also notice she has an entire shelf of candles already?"

"Okay, wow, savage." Austin groaned. "You're right, it's pathetic. She deserves more. She deserves, like, a cool gift. Something that says, 'Hey, I know you better than anyone, and I didn't just panic-buy this at Target.'"

Priya snorted, lying back on her bed. "You literally did panic-buy it at Target, didn't you?"

A long silence. "...Maybe."

She laughed harder, muffling it with a pillow. "Okay. Deep breath. We'll fix this tomorrow. Meet me early and a matcha run, then last-minute gift shopping. Deal?"

Austin didn't answer right away this time. When he did, his voice was quieter. "Priya... do you think I should make it official? Like... with Lana?"

Priya froze. "Wait you mean, like, exclusive?"

"Yeah." A shaky laugh. "We've been hanging out. A lot. And, yeah, okay, hooking up. But not officially dating. And I don't know if she wants that or if I'm just... reading it wrong."

Priya sat up, the humor draining from her face. "Have you been seeing anyone else?"

"No!" he said quickly. "God, no. I couldn't. It's just her. It's always been her. That's the problem...I don't think I could handle it if she didn't feel the same way."

Priya exhaled slowly, her chest tightening in a way she didn't expect. "Austin... I think you should talk to her. Be honest. She deserves that."

"I know. I just..." He stopped, words tangling in his throat. "I just don't want to lose her."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Priya said softly, "You won't."

He let out a breath like he'd been holding it for years. "You're a lifesaver. Seriously. Okay, night! See you tomorrow."

The line went dead.

Priya stared at her phone, the screen dimming in her hand. Something about the way he said that stuck in her chest like a splinter.

But tomorrow was Lana's day. Whatever was going on with Austin could wait.

✷

Priya was running on four hours of sleep and pure caffeine when Austin's Jeep rolled into the Target parking lot at 8:06 a.m. She climbed out, oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, hair in a messy bun, clutching a large iced matcha latte like it was oxygen.

"You look... cheerful," Austin muttered as she slammed the passenger door shut.

Priya shot him a withering look over the green straw. "You woke me up at midnight to cry about candles. You're lucky I didn't block your number."

Austin grinned sheepishly. "Okay, okay. Point taken." He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets as they headed inside. "So... gift strategy?"

Priya sipped her drink with exaggerated drama. "Step one: put the candle back on the shelf."

"Already returned it."

"Good boy," she said dryly.

Target was still waking up, the faint hum of carts echoing through the aisles. Priya marched toward the home section like a general leading troops into battle. Austin trailed behind her, muttering something about how he should've just Venmo'd Lana money.

"Absolutely not," Priya snapped, skimming the shelves. "You're not going to be that guy. She deserves effort. Thought. Something meaningful."

Austin groaned. "What counts as meaningful? Jewelry? That's too much, right? Or not enough? I don't know and my brain is melting."

"Relax," Priya said, scanning through the art section. "What's Lana into right now?"

"Uh..." Austin rubbed the back of his neck. "Books. Indie films. Weird thrift-store décor. Plants that she always kills."

Priya's eyes lit up. "Books and films. Easy. We build her a 'Lana Starter Pack.' A cool chunky jewelry set, maybe a Coppola Film Collection, plus a cute plant she can kill again."

Austin blinked. "That... actually sounds good."

"Of course it does," Priya muttered. "I'm a genius."

Twenty minutes later, they were at self-checkout with a perfectly curated haul: a gold chunky necklace with pink and red hearts, a director's cut version of Marie Antoinette and Lost in Translation and a ceramic planter shaped like a sleepy cat.

Austin stared at the pile like it was the Holy Grail. "You just saved my life."

"You're welcome," Priya said, scanning her Target Rewards Card. "Now let's get out of here before someone from school sees me in this state of mind."

✷

Priya's house smelled like cinnamon and laundry detergent, the way it always did when Neha baked on Saturdays. Austin dumped the gift bag on Priya's bed while she collapsed into her desk chair, sipping the last watery inch of her matcha.

"Wrap it fast," she ordered, tossing him some tissue paper.

Austin fumbled like a toddler with tape while Priya scrolled through her phone, too tired to supervise.

Then came the knock.

"Priya?" Sloane's voice sang through the door. "Lana's here!"

Austin's head shot up like a guilty dog. "What? She's what?!"

"Relax," Priya hissed, shoving the half-wrapped gift under her bed just as the door creaked open.

Lana stepped in, looking effortlessly perfect in a cropped sweater and wide-leg jeans, her braids falling over one shoulder. She gave Priya a warm smile and then spotted Austin.

"Oh. Hey," Lana said slowly, her eyes darting between them.

Austin tried to look casual, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a piece of tape stuck to his sweater. "Uh... hey."

Priya plastered on a grin. "Surprise study session," she said, a little too brightly. "We're just... you know... reviewing AP Lit stuff."

Lana tilted her head. "On a Saturday and the first day of winter break?"

Priya swallowed. "We're... overachievers."

Austin nodded like his life depended on it. "Big... fans of Shakespeare."

Lana laughed, dropping her tote on the bed. "You two are weird."

Priya forced a chuckle, heart hammering as she nudged the wrapped gift further under the bed with her foot.

"So," Lana said, plopping onto the chair next to Priya. "What are we doing today?"

Priya opened her mouth, brain scrambling for an excuse.

Because if Lana found that gift, everything would get very real, very fast.

"How about a road trip?" Priya suggested, propping her chin on her hand. "We can drive down to Long Beach, grab Carl's Jr., and just... chill before your birthday party tonight."

Lana's eyes lit up. "That actually sounds amazing. Austin can drive us."

Austin looked up from his phone, deadpan. "Why am I everyone's personal Uber all of a sudden?"

"Because," Lana said, flopping dramatically onto Priya's beanbag chair, "you're the only one with a car. Duh."

"Correction," Austin shot back, pointing at her, "I'm the only one with a car because my dad bought me one after a midlife crisis and some gay guilt."

Priya blinked. "Gay guilt?"

Austin smirked. "Yeah. Turns out, Dad was in the closet for ten years of marriage and felt bad. The Jeep was a peace offering... right after I caught him making out with my science tutor on our couch in tenth grade."

Lana let out a snort. "That explains so much."

"Can Manny come?" Lana added, sitting up suddenly. "He's already coming to my birthday dinner, and my mom loves his mom."

Austin groaned. "Fine. Text him. But if he's coming, he better bring those sausages his stepdad sends him. The gourmet ones from that 'Sausage of the Month' thing."

Priya rolled her eyes, laughing. "Only you would make meat a condition for friendship."

Austin grinned. "What can I say? Standards."

✷

The Jeep crunched up Manny's driveway, music thumping low from Lana's playlist. Priya clutched her massive matcha cup like a lifeline, her sunglasses hiding the bags under her eyes. She wasn't in the mood for people and especially not Luke Dunphy.

"Text him we're here," Austin muttered, putting the car in park.

Lana fired off a quick text, humming along to SZA. "He said he's coming out. But, like... we could also just go inside. His mom makes the best empanadas and his dad's got virgin Bellini's for us."

Priya shrugged and slid out of the Jeep. The late morning sun burned hotter than it should for December, and her tank top clung to her back from the drive. She followed Lana up the path, her oversized slides slapping against the pavement.

The front door swung open before they even knocked. Manny stood there, perfect as ever in a crisp linen shirt like he wasn't done with school and could relax in his most comfortable flannels.

"Finally. You're late," he said with a grin that softened the words.

"We had to stop for matcha," Austin replied, lifting his half-empty iced coffee as proof.

"Priorities," Manny said, stepping aside to let them in. "Come on, my mom's in the kitchen, and... oh, full disclosure, Luke's parents are here."

Priya froze mid-step. "Wait what?"

"Yeah," Manny added casually. "They're talking with my mom about some fundraiser thing."

Lana shot Priya a don't freak out look, but Priya's stomach still twisted. Luke's parents. Phil and Claire Dunphy. The same people who raised him.

Inside, the house smelled like butter and garlic. Voices carried from the kitchen and the warm, familiar laughter mingled with Gloria's accented Spanish.

Manny led the way, and Priya followed reluctantly, adjusting her headband like it could somehow armor her.

And then she saw them.

Claire Dunphy stood near the counter, chic in a white blouse and jeans, her blonde hair perfectly blown out. Beside her was Phil, radiating dad energy in a soft blue polo, smiling so wide he practically glowed.

"Oh!" Claire turned, spotting them. "Manny! And oh my gosh, are these your friends?"

"Yes, Aunt Claire, these are my friends," Manny replied smoothly. "This is Lana, Austin... and Priya."

Priya tried to smile without looking like she was about to faint. "Hi. Nice to meet you."

Phil's grin doubled. "Priya! What a pretty name. Love that. So musical. Are you in drama? Choir? Oh—do you play the cello?"

Priya blinked. "Uh... no. I'm... actually into science, I'm planning on becoming a Nurse."

"Oh wow," Claire said, eyes widening approvingly. "That's amazing. We need more people like you."

Priya nodded, murmuring a soft thanks, wishing desperately for the floor to open up.

Because right then, from the hallway, came a voice that sent her pulse straight to her throat:

"Mom, have you seen my new—"

Luke stopped short in the doorway. His hair was messy, his T-shirt clinging slightly like he'd just woken up from a nap. His blue eyes flicked from his mom... to Priya.

And for a moment, everything in the kitchen went quiet.

Luke's gaze pinned her in place like a spotlight, and suddenly the kitchen felt too warm, too bright, too suffocating.

Priya forced a tight smile, the kind that didn't reach her eyes, and turned to Lana, Austin, and Manny.

"You know what?" she said, her voice pitched higher than usual. "I'll... just wait in the car."

Lana frowned. "Priya—"

"No, it's fine." Priya gripped her giant matcha like it could anchor her, backing toward the door before anyone could argue. "Take your time. Seriously."

She didn't look at Luke. Not once.

Her slides slapped against the tile as she bolted through the hallway, out the front door, and into the glaring California sun. By the time she reached the Jeep, her chest was tight, her hands clammy.

She slid into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and let her head fall against the head rest. The matcha sat heavy in her lap like a joke.

Inside, laughter drifted faintly from the kitchen—the easy kind of warmth that felt like another world.

Priya closed her eyes and whispered under her breath: "God, why does he have to show up everywhere?"

✷

The sun was brutal in the best way—gold and endless, glittering across the water like shards of glass. Lana lay stretched out on her striped towel, oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, her cherry-red bikini glistening with sunscreen. Priya adjusted the strings of her pale lilac bikini, legs soaking up the heat as she sipped her matcha from a sweating plastic cup.

"This," Lana said, sighing dramatically, "is peak aesthetic. Bikinis, matcha, and no Sarah Ho in sight."

Priya smirked. "You manifested this."

"I did. I'm basically a witch."

They clinked their cups in mock cheers before sinking back into silence, letting the waves fill it. Nearby, Manny and Austin were knee-deep in a heated volleyball match with two tall guys...surfers, probably. The guys were all bronzed, laughing loudly every time the ball smacked into the sand.

Priya stole a glance at Austin diving for the ball, his hair flopping into his eyes, then at Manny, who was surprisingly good and coordinated in a way she didn't expect.

She was mid-sip when a shadow fell over her.

"Hi!" a voice chirped.

Priya looked up to see two girls standing there, all glossy lips and sun-streaked hair, lacy bikinis straight out of a La Vie En Rose ad. They looked like they'd stepped off a beach volleyball TikTok.

"Um," the taller one started, twirling her sunglasses nervously, "we're friends with the guys playing volleyball with your friends, and we were wondering if we could tan with you?"

Lana slid her glasses down her nose just enough to give them a once-over. Then she looked at Priya, an unreadable expression flickering across her face.

Priya shrugged lightly. "Uh, sure, I guess?"

"Awesome!" The shorter girl squealed, dropping her woven beach tote onto the sand. "I'm Bailey, and this is Harper."

"Lana," Lana said coolly, lying back down like she owned the beach. "And that's Priya."

"Cute suits," Harper added, plopping down next to Priya like they'd been friends for years.

"Thanks," Priya said politely, though inside, she couldn't help wondering why these girls weren't tanning with their volleyball crew instead.

As Bailey stretched out next to Lana, tossing her blonde waves over her shoulder, Priya felt her phone buzz in the tote beside her. She ignored it, eyes drifting back to the volleyball game.

Luke wasn't here. Thank God.

But somehow, she couldn't shake the thought of him anyway.

The two girls spread out their towels, like they'd been invited, like this was some influencer collab. Bailey was already pulling out tanning oil and a disposable film camera.

"So," Bailey said as she adjusted her bikini top, "are you guys local?"

"Born and raised," Lana replied, stretching lazily like a cat. "Palisades Charter."

Bailey perked up. "No way! We're from Malibu, but we have friends at Pali."

Harper chimed in, her voice syrupy sweet. "Yeah, like... do you know that girl? What's her name? Sarah... Han? Ho? Something like that?"

Priya's head snapped toward her so fast Harper blinked. "Sarah Ho?" she said, the name sharp as glass.

"Yes! That's the one," Bailey said, grinning. "The one who got arrested. Like, full-on cops at school, handcuffs and everything. My friend sent me a video. She was, like, screaming about suing the entire LAPD." Bailey giggled like it was the funniest thing ever.

Lana raised her brows, feigning innocence. "Oh? Who told you that?"

"Girl, everyone knows," Harper said, flipping onto her stomach. "Apparently she was selling... ketamine? Like, who even does that? It's so 2012 rave vibes."

Priya let out a low laugh, one that made Lana glance sideways because it wasn't her usual soft laugh—it was sharp. Dangerous.

"Yeah," Priya said sweetly, pushing her sunglasses up her nose. "That sounds like Sarah. Always looking for the next big thing to make her feel important."

Bailey blinked. "Wait, you know her?"

"Oh, we know her," Lana cut in, her tone dripping with faux sweetness. "She's... a character."

"Character is generous," Priya said, sitting up on her elbows. The matcha in her hand tilted slightly, green foam clinging to the straw as she continued. "Sarah's the type of girl who'll smile in your face while planning how to ruin your life. She thinks being messy is a personality trait."

The girls giggled, leaning in like this was better than Netflix.

Harper whispered, "Was it true she had a boyfriend?"

Priya smirked, eyes glinting like the sun off the water. "Oh, you mean Luke? Yeah. Poor guy. Honestly, he deserves a medal for putting up with her. She didn't care about him. Never did. To Sarah, guys are just... props. Accessories for her Instagram aesthetic."

Bailey gasped. "Shut up. So like... did he dump her after she got arrested?"

Priya tilted her head, smiling like she was sharing a secret. "Let's just say... Sarah's in a very different kind of group chat now. With her lawyer."

Lana choked back a laugh, pretending to sip her iced coffee.

The girls shrieked with laughter, pulling out their phones like they couldn't wait to text someone about this.

Priya lay back down on her towel, her heart oddly light for the first time in days. The waves crashed in the distance, and she thought, Finally. Something about Sarah Ho feels fair.

✷

AUTHOR'S NOTE━━━━━━━
luke , what have you done?

long chapter but i feel like it really gets the jist of how priya feels and how luke isn't getting that she doesn't want to talk to him.

also la vie en rose is like canadian equivalent of victoria's secret. also im not from america so i don't know how like target works i just made up a bunch of stuff