Kalila Miracle Hart

"Congratulations on a successful project," Professor Halewood announced, she sounded very pleased with our project. "You've demonstrated not only creativity but also remarkable teamwork. Well done."

Applause rippled through the lecture hall, echoing off the walls. I stood there with the girls, my shoulders squared, chin lifted, and a smile plastered on my face. I hoped it looked genuine because, inside, I was a mess. My thoughts were a tangled knot, twisted around the words that had left me believing that my life, is about to turn into ashes.

"I fucking like you so much."

My chest tightened, air getting stuck halfway. I could still see his eyes, fierce and unyielding, the way his jaw clenched as if the words were ripped out of him. His voice—rough, desperate—kept replaying in my head, echoing until it made me feel dizzy. Heat crawled up my neck, prickling under my skin. I felt exposed, like everyone could see the turmoil swirling inside me.

No. It couldn't be real. Carcel is engaged to the most beautiful girl in school, he couldn't have said that to me. It had to be a cruel joke. How could someone like him confess to someone like me? I had no wealth, no status—nothing that could ever compare to what his fiancée had. It didn't make sense. None of it made any sense.

And yet, the memory of his voice, raw and jagged, squeezed my heart. His eyes had been unguarded, showing a vulnerability that didn't belong to the cold, arrogant man I thought I knew. No one could fake that. A shiver ran down my spine, and I hugged myself, trying to hold myself together. Was he... serious?

"Kalila, earth to Kalila! What do you think?"

Evara's voice jolted me back to reality. I blinked, my heart still racing. I forced a laugh, hoping it didn't sound as shaky as I felt. "Oh... um, sorry. What were you saying again?"

Evara narrowed her eyes at me. I know she wanted to ask something but didn't press any further. "Are you in for the party tonight? We're celebrating our project's success, and you have no choice but to join."

Party? that should be enough to distract me. Maybe that was exactly what I needed. If I surrounded myself with enough noise and laughter, maybe I could drown out the thoughts echoing in my head. I forced another smile. "I think it's perfect."

Evara's face lit up. "And oh! how about he dress up a little, you with a theme to match the color of our fits."

A laugh slipped out before I could stop it, the tension in my chest easing just a little. "That's fine with me."

We chatted about outfits and makeup, Evara's excitement infectious. I played along, faking enthusiasm I didn't feel. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the party, my thoughts kept drifting back to him. I hated how easily his words had shaken me. It felt unfair, like he'd thrown all his feelings onto me and left me to sort through the mess. And the worst part? I didn't even know how I was supposed to feel.

Engaged men shouldn't make confessions like that. It was wrong. It was unfair. It was... confusing.

The day blurred by, my head swimming with emotions I couldn't even name. I was on autopilot—nodding and smiling when expected, pretending to listen. After the girls finished planning everything, we headed home to give ourselves plenty of time to get ready.

Now, on my way back, the hum of passing cars barely registered and my thoughts started drifting again. 

That night, when I stepped out of the building, the weight in my chest eased just a little, when i saw Marco, he was leaning against the car, standing still, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on me, his brows knitting together with concern.

"Hey," he called out, his eyes narrowing. "You look pale. Did something happen?"

I forced a smile, shaking my head a little too quickly. "Nope. Just feeling a little under the weather, that's all."

His shoulders relaxed, his expression softening. Without a word, he opened the passenger door, his movements gentle. "Alright. Just rest up, okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

I let out a weak laugh, sliding into the seat. The door clicked shut, and the world outside became a blur as he started the car. Silence filled the space between us—the kind that felt safe. Familiar. Comforting. The knot in my chest loosened just a little. But when I glanced at Marco, I couldn't help but wonder if he knew what had happened, yet he didn't forced me to to say anything, he chose to wait for me to speak. But in the end I couldn't.

How could I tell him everything that Carcel said? his words made me feel so uneasy about the man I grew up with and I felt disgusted.

I let out a long sigh, shoving my hands into my pockets as I crossed the street toward our home. The cool afternoon air brushed against my skin, the porch light flickered ahead, casting a warm glow against the darkening sky. 

As I approached the front door, something on the porch caught my eye. At first, it was just a blur of deep reds and soft whites against the fading afternoon light, but as I stepped closer, the sight stopped me in my tracks. A bouquet—grand and extravagant, unlike anything I had ever seen. Roses, lilies, and delicate sprigs of baby's breath intertwined in a flawless arrangement, the petals rich with color, dewdrops still clinging to their edges. It looked out of place in our worn out porch.

Curiosity pulled me forward. I crouched down, fingers brushing over the velvety petals before I carefully lifted the bouquet. It was heavier than I expected, the sheer volume of flowers making my arms strain slightly. Nestled between the blooms, barely visible beneath the cascade of petals, was a small card. My pulse quickened as I reached for it.

I'll give you time to think.

My heart skipped, dread pooling in my stomach. I turned the card over, my fingers trembling.

You know I'm not the most patient man, Kalila.

Heat flared in my chest, anger bubbling up until it choke me. Was he threatening me? Without a second thought, I marched to the trash bin and threw the bouquet in, slamming the lid shut with a satisfying thud. My hands were shaking as I stormed inside, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

I stormed up the steps, my fingers curling into fists. The door creaked as I pushed it open, the familiar scent of home wrapping around me—a blend of lavender air freshener and whatever leftover Marco had probably eaten. It should've been comforting, but I was too worked up to care. I needed to get rid of this feeling crawling under my skin. I needed to calm down.

I kicked off my shoes and marched straight to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. The mirror caught my reflection—flushed cheeks, wild eyes, lips pressed into a hard line. I hated this, how one stupid card could got me feeling, everything at once again. Who does he think he is?

Turning on the shower, I cranked the water to the hottest setting, letting the steam billow around me. I peeled off my clothes, my movements jerky and impatient, as if shedding the fabric could somehow rid me of my anger. Stepping under the scorching spray, I let the water crash down on me, its heat biting into my skin. But it wasn't enough. It couldn't burn away his words buried in my head.

My fingers dug into my scalp, the shampoo lathering up as I scrubbed hard, desperate to wash thoughts away. His eyes, his voice, that damn look on his face—it all haunted me, clinging to me like a second skin. 

"I hate you. I hate you for making me feel this way!" 

I shouted in the top of my lungs, enough to leave me catching my breath, The water started to cool, the heat fading into a lukewarm drizzle. I forced myself to move, to rinse off the soap, and shut off the faucet. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around me. My reflection in the foggy mirror was a blurred silhouette, barely recognizable. 

You're alright Kalila. Everything is going to be fine.

I'm so done thinking about him tonight. I'm going to get get drunk and wasted. I picked out a red sleeveless top that clung to my curves, paired it with a black mini skirt, and slipped on knee-high boots that I usually hated but couldn't deny looked perfect with the outfit.

I added bold red lipstick and mascara, that Evara taught me earlier. My hair fell in loose waves, wild and free. I stared at my reflection, forcing confidence I didn't quite feel.

"I look like shit," I muttered to myself.

"Really? 'Cause you look pretty damn good to me," Marco teased, leaning against my doorframe.

I rolled my eyes, shoving past him. "Shut up."

"Going somewhere?"

"Celebrating with the girls. And no, you're not invited."

He laughed, unfazed. "I wouldn't go even if you begged. Too many of you girls in one place—no thanks."

I managed a real laugh this time, the sound lightening the heavy air between us. Marco's shoulders relaxed, his easy smile chasing away the worry that had been clouding in my face all day.

"Don't get into too much trouble," he teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

I rolled my eyes, nudging his arm. "You know me. I'm the definition of responsible."

He snorted, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. "Sure, keep telling yourself that."

He looked at me one last time, his head tilting, his voice gentle. "You sure you're okay? You don't have to go if you're not feeling up to it."

My chest tightened. Always so considerate. Always so good. I forced my lips into a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Marco. Promise.  This is a night out I wouldn't miss."

He studied my face for a moment longer, his eyes flicking over me like he was searching for a crack in my facade. I held my breath. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders dropping. "Alright. But text me if you need anything. And I mean anything, Kalila."

I smiled and waved at him goodbye, then slipped inside the car. Settling into the backseat of the Uber, I let out a shaky breath as I buckled the seatbelt. But when I glanced up at the rearview mirror, my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. Carcel's face stared back at me, wearing the same expression as the last time I saw him—his eyes locked on mine through the mirror and my body pause in shock.

I blinked hard, and the face vanished, replaced by the driver's graying hair and a pair of tired eyes focused on the road. I pressed my fingers against my temples, letting out a low groan. Great. Now I'm seeing things.

I sank back into the seat, my head hitting the headrest with a dull thud. Was I really losing my mind over a guy's confession? Over Carcel Evander Dawson, of all people? The guy who had almost ruined our project and would probably going to be the cause of my death.

I shook my head, forcing the thoughts away, and focused on the soft hum of the car's engine, wishing my heart to stop racing. I needed to get over this—get over the whole situation. Even if just for a few hours.

The pub was alive with laughter and music, the dim lights casting a warm glow over the crowd. I spotted Evara waving at me from a corner booth, her smile bright and welcoming. Sumer and Akira were already there, laughing over something on Akira's phone.

"There she is!" Evara called out as I approached the table, sliding over to make room. "Look at you! Damn, girl, that top is fire!"

I grinned, giving a playful twirl before plopping down beside her. "Please, look at you guys. You're all glowing."

Sumer laughed, flipping her hair. "We clean up nice, huh?"

I giggled in response, we fell into easy conversation, complimenting each other's outfits and catching up on gossips. Then Evara mentioned they were waiting for two more people.

"Ashton and Jade?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know they were coming."

Evara shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. "I ran into them earlier. Figured it'd be fun."

A warm flutter filled my chest. It was nice to see my friends expanding. I just hope Ashton wont mention Carcel. Aside from that, I knew tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.

As if on cue, Ashton and Jade appeared, waving as they made their way over. They looked great, both effortlessly stylish in a way that made heads turn. We exchanged compliments and laughter, the energy at the table buzzing.

Then, as the waitress approached to take our orders, Jade's hand slipped into her pocket, pulling out a sleek, black card. My heart stopped, my eyes zeroing in on the familiar card. That was...

Jade held it out to me, her expression hesitant. "Um... this is from Carcel. He... wanted to give it to you. Said it's for the success of the project and... he's sorry for the trouble he caused."

My heart plummeted, a cold sensation washing over me as I stared at the card in her hand. I couldn't say a word—my hands trembled beneath me. Should I accept it? But before I could do anything, the sharp gasp from the girls saved me from the uncomfortable situation. They sat beside me, eyes sparkling as they looked at the card.

Evara's eyes sparkled the brightest, as her mouth hanging open. "Is that... Carcel's personal card?"

Jade nodded, shifting uncomfortably. "Yeah. He told me to give it to Kalila. Said... it's hers tonight."

Evara's shock melted into a wicked grin. "Oh, hell yes! Drinks on Carcel Dawson!" She snatched the card from Jade, holding it up like a trophy. "We're running wild tonight!"

The table erupted in cheers, everyone excitedly chattering about the unlimited possibilities. But I just sat there, frozen, the noise around me fading into the background.

First the flower. Now this. I didn't want his gifts. I didn't want anything from him. I had to drink. Evara said—'Run wild!'  and tonight I'll run as wild as I can get.

We ended up club-hopping, and this is our third club—probably our last. We ordered round after round, the drinks flowing faster than I could keep track of. Laughter blended with the music, the thrum of the bass shaking the floor beneath our feet as we danced like our lives depended on it.

Laughter spilled from my lips as Evara and I twirled around, our movements wild and unrestrained, the world spinning in sync with us. The music pulsed through the air, a deep, rhythmic beat that vibrated in my bones, drowning out every thought I didn't want to face. The flashing lights blurred everything into streaks of color—gold, violet, red—each one smearing into the next like a fever dream.

Across the room, Sumer and Jade clung to each other, their faces streaked with tears over something, I honestly don't know, their drunken sorrow intensifying with every passing second. Ashton hovered helplessly, arms raised in a futile attempt to console them, but they waved him off between dramatic wails. On the couch, Akira had already in slumber, her limbs sprawled out like a starfish, unmoving except for the slow rise and fall of her chest. Someone had tossed a jacket over her legs, but she was too far gone to care.

I lost count of the shots I had, the alcohol a warm burn down my throat, leaving a buzzing haze in my head. I danced until my legs gave out, until I couldn't feel anything, until I couldn't think about anything at all.

I stumbled, my body heavy and unsteady, the world tilting dangerously. Ashton's arm caught me, his voice a faint echo as he called my name. I tried to smile, but my face wouldn't cooperate.

The cold air hit me like a slap when he dragged us out of the club, one by one, depositing us on the sidewalk like discarded puppets. I sank down, my back hitting the brick wall, the ground solid and unforgiving beneath me.

I leaned my head back, looking at the sky above giggling for no reason, ah, I had fun tonight, so fun.

I felt my eyes growing heavy, the world slipping away in a haze as I watched Ashton pacing, his phone pressed to his ear. His voice was distant, muffled, like sound traveling through water. I tried to focus, to piece together the fragments of the night, but the alcohol tugged me under before I could make sense of anything else.

—

I jolted awake, my head pounding like a drum. A groan escaped my lips as I squeezed my eyes shut back again, hoping the pain would go away. I was lying on something soft, the air warm and faintly scented with leather.

Wait. Leather?

My eyes shot open, panic crashing through me. I turned my head, dread pooling in my stomach as my gaze landed on him.

Carcel.

And this time I'm pretty sure I wasn't hallucinating. He sat in the driver's seat, one arm casually draped over the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road. His jaw was clenched, his expression unreadable. I shut my eyes again, cursing under my breath.

Fuck! Fuck! what the fuck is happening?

His voice cut through the silence, low and infuriatingly calm. "I thought you'd hate the card. Didn't expect you to go wild on the dance floor wearing... that." His eyes flicked to me, his gaze lingering.

I looked down, realizing I was covered with his coat. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I forced myself to glare at him. "Shut up, and Just... drive."

I tightened Carcel's coat around me, more out of stubbornness than warmth. His presence was suffocating, his voice grating on my nerves. Sarcasm was laced his words, thick and deliberate, and he looked like he was in a bad mood.

Well, I was in a worse mood than he is right now.

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "What the hell were you thinking wearing that?"

I turned my head to glare at him. "I was thinking I'd dress however the hell I want."

Carcel scoffed. "Didn't seem like much thinking was involved."

My headache pulsed viciously, a sharp, punishing ache that made my skull feel like it was splitting open. I didn't have the energy to keep up with his bullshit. "I'd fight with you, but my head hurts too much," I muttered, slumping back against the seat.

He exhaled sharply, then, to my surprise, reached into the console and pulled out a bottle of water. Without a word, he unscrewed the cap and handed it to me, but not before brushing his fingers over my wrist, his touch surprisingly careful. His voice softened, losing its usual edge. "Drink. It'll help."

 When I hesitated, he sighed and tilted the bottle slightly towards me. "Come on, Kalila. You look like you're about to pass out." There was something in his tone—exasperation, sure, but also something gentler, almost concerned. "Please, just drink."

I took the bottle from him and sipped slowly, the cool water soothing my dry throat. My body felt heavy, exhaustion pulling at me like an anchor. The car's gentle motion lulled me, and before I realized it, my eyelids drooped shut again. 

The next time they fluttered open, the car had stopped. The engine hummed softly, and I turned my head, blinking blearily. We were parked in front of my house. Carcel's gaze was on me with a genuine concern settling in his face, his brows drawing together as he studied me closely.

He unbuckled my seatbelt, slowly and as gently as I can remember seeing him. His gaze softened, scanning my face. "You're barely keeping your eyes open. Can you walk, or should I carry you?"

And all of a sudden, fury sparked through my exhaustion. "Are you out of your damn mind?" I threw the door open and stumbled out, my knees buckling beneath me. The pavement lurched, and before I could hit the ground, Carcel was there, cursing under his breath as he grabbed my arm to steady me.

"Fucking hell, Kalila—"

I stomped on his foot. Hard.

Carcel sucked in a sharp breath, his grip tightening for a moment before he recoiled in pain. "Are you insane?"

I pushed him away, swaying slightly but managing to stay upright. "Don't touch me."

"Kalila?"

I turned towards the familiar voice, my stomach sinking. Marco stood outside the house, his phone still in hand, brows furrowed in concern.

Carcel went still beside me. His expression shifted, darkening like a brewing storm. His hands slid into his pockets, but tension rippled through his stance. "You live together?" His voice was dangerously low.

I blinked at him, then back at Marco, confusion muddled by my pounding headache. "He's my aunt's adopted son, of course I live with him, stupid." I said flatly, before calling, "Marco!"

Marco was already moving, his gaze flicking between me and Carcel as he reached us. "What happened?"

I smiled sheepishly, leaning slightly into him. "Had a little too much to drink."

Marco sighed, shaking his head. "You're impossible."

Marco slipped an arm around me and guided me inside. The warmth of the house wrapped around me, but it did little to chase away the exhaustion sinking into my bones. I barely registered the soft creak of the front door as he stepped back outside again, his footsteps fading into the night.

I collapsed onto the living room floor, the cool hardwood pressing against my skin. My breath was slow, uneven, the weight of the night still pressing down on me. The room spun, colors blurring together at the edges of my vision. I shut my eyes, hoping the world would stop moving. Hoping sleep would pull me under before the thoughts I was running from caught up to me.