The lecture hall buzzed faintly with murmurs and scattered applause, but to Kamala, it was as though everything had been muted. She and Clair stood tall and poised as Mr. Baits announced their victory, his voice echoing across the room.
"You've passed. Your client is free of all charges," he declared, looking almost impressed. "Congratulations, Ms. Harris and Ms. Washington."
The room erupted into cheers, some classmates clapping in genuine admiration, others out of obligation.
Kamala barely registered any of it.
Clair turned to her, grinning triumphantly, and pulled her into a hug.
But Kamala stiffened, her hands barely grazing Clair's back before she pushed her away. The momentary warmth of Clair's embrace evaporated, replaced by the cold reality that clung to Kamala like a second skin. Clair's smile faltered for a split second before she masked it with strained nonchalance.
Kamala didn't wait for the applause to die down. She strode to the front of the classroom, snatched the certificate of completion from Mr. Bates's hand, and walked out the door without a word.
Clair stayed behind, accepting her own certificate with grace, but her eyes followed Kamala as she disappeared through the doorway.
Two Weeks Earlier
The air in the mock courtroom was thick with tension. Kendra Bland's closing argument came effortlessly, her confidence filling the room as she painted their fake client as guilty without a shadow of a doubt. Kamala and Clair sat at their table, their carefully crafted strategy unraveling with every point Kendra made.
Their client was guilty but damn.
When the class was dismissed, Kamala leaned back in her chair, exhaling sharply. Clair tapped her pen against the table, her jaw clenched.
"We're screwed," Clair muttered.
Kamala shook her head, determination still in her eyes. "We're not screwed. We just need to focus. There's still time to turn this around."
Clair scoffed. "Focus? We've been focusing.
We've been working nonstop, and she's still beating us. Kendra barely even tries, Kamala! And yet here we are, busting our asses just to keep up. We got the shit end of the stick and you won't admit it. "
Kamala didn't respond. She couldn't. Deep down, she knew Clair was right. They were skilled, more skilled than Kendra, even, but the cards were stacked against them. Their client's guilt was practically written in neon lights, and Kendra's case was airtight.
That night, as they walked back to their dorms, Clair spoke up again.
"You know," she said, her voice low, "if Kendra didn't show up to class, it'd be an automatic zero for her. We'd win by default."
Kamala stopped in her tracks, turning to face Clair. "What are you saying?"
Clair shrugged, her tone casual, almost too casual. "I'm just saying... We've worked too hard to lose now. And you know how Kendra is. She'll be at some party tonight, drunk out of her mind. If something happened to her, if she couldn't make it to class—"
"No." Kamala's voice was firm, cutting Clair off before she could continue.
Clair smiled faintly, a knowing, almost predatory glint in her eyes. "Come on, Kamala. Don't act like you haven't thought about it. You care about your grades more than anything. And besides," she added, her voice softening,
"I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you. We're in this together."
Kamala shook her head, her heart pounding. "This isn't about grades. And it's not about us."
But Clair didn't let up. Over the next few days, she chipped away at Kamala's resolve, planting seeds of doubt and fear.
What if they failed?
What if their futures were derailed because of this one final?
—
Kamala trudged through the dimly lit dorm hallway, her arms heavy with the weight of law books and case files. She had spent hours in the library, combing through endless texts, but it was futile, there was no saving their case.
Kendra was going to win, and Kamala hated admitting defeat.
As she approached her dorm, a faint scream echoed from a door slightly ajar. Her heart raced.
Kendra's room.
Without thinking, Kamala pushed the door open. Her breath hitched. Clair stood there, chest heaving, her hair disheveled, clutching a silenced gun aimed at Kendra, who was crumpled on the floor, her face battered and bloodied. Kendra's wide, terrified eyes darted to Kamala.
"Please," Kendra whimpered, blood trickling from her lip. "Kamala Please! St—"
Before Kendra could finish, Clair fired. The muffled shot rang out, and Kendra's head snapped back as her body slumped lifelessly to the floor.
"Clair!" Kamala screamed, frozen in place.
But Clair wasn't done. Her finger tightened on the trigger again and again, unloading bullet after bullet into Kendra's already limp body. The smell of gunpowder and blood filled the air, making Kamala gag.
"Stop!" Kamala cried, rushing forward. She grabbed the gun from Clair, her hands shaking as she held the blood-smeared weapon. She dropped it instantly, staring in horror at her crimson-stained palms.
"What the hell have you done?" Kamala yelled, her voice trembling.
Clair's eyes were wide, her breathing erratic. "I did what had to be done," she said, her voice cold and detached.
Kamala stumbled back, her gaze darting between Kendra's lifeless body and Clair's frenzied expression. "You're sick," she whispered.
Clair moved quickly, slamming the door shut and locking it. Before Kamala could react, Clair's hand clamped over her mouth, pinning her against the wall.
"Shut up," Clair hissed, her face inches from Kamala's.
"Do you understand what happens if anyone finds out? We're both done. Jail, Kamala. Our lives, everything we've worked for, gone."
Kamala thrashed, shoving Clair away. "I didn't do this!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "You did! This is all you!"
Clair's expression hardened. "You think anyone will believe that? You were here, you wanted this, Kamala. You're as guilty as I am now."
Kamala shook her head, her legs trembling as she inched toward the door. "I'm not part of this. I'm leaving. I'm going to the police."
Kamala shoved Clair off her with all the strength she could muster, her back pressing against the wall as she edged toward the door. Clair's wild eyes burned into her, and her voice was a torrent of desperate, deranged justifications.
"This is your fault, Kamala!" Clair shouted, her voice cracking. "I did this for us! For you! I love you, don't you get that? We needed to win. We had to win!"
Kamala shook her head, her voice trembling as she said, "No. You needed to win. We would've passed even if we failed this. You didn't have to do this, Clair. None of this was necessary."
Clair laughed bitterly, a sound that made Kamala's stomach churn. "Necessary? Do you think humiliation is something we could survive? Failing means being forgotten. It means losing everything we've worked for! But I fixed it. I fixed it for us!"
Kamala reached the door, her fingers fumbling with the lock. Clair took a step toward her, her face a mask of frustration and hurt.
"You're not listening to me!" Clair shouted. "I saved us!"
The lock clicked. Kamala didn't wait. She yanked the door open and bolted down the hallway, Clair's voice chasing her.
"Kamala!" Clair screamed. "Come back! Don't make me regret this!"
Kamala didn't look back. Her feet pounded against the floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tore through the eerily silent campus. The buildings looked like shadows, empty and desolate. There was no one to hear her cries, no one to stop Clair from following her.
She spotted the freshly built dormitory ahead and darted inside., hoping to lock herself in one of the rooms. The air was cold, the walls sterile and lifeless. No door would open. Kamala's footsteps echoed as she sprinted down the corridor, her heart hammering in her chest. She turned corner after corner, searching for a way out, but the building felt like a labyrinth.
Finally, she found herself in a dead-end hallway. Her back hit the wall, and she slid to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Please," Kamala whispered, her voice trembling. "Clair, I won't say anything. I swear. Just leave me alone."
Clair appeared at the end of the hallway, her silhouette dark against the dim lighting. She walked slowly, her gaze locked on Kamala.
"You won't say anything?" Clair's voice was soft now, almost soothing. "I know you won't, Kamala."
Kamala's chest heaved as she pressed herself further into the corner. "Please, Clair. Don't do this. Just let me go."
Clair shook her head, a small, sad smile playing on her lips. "I can't. I can't trust you. But don't worry, I'll make sure you never talk."
Before Kamala could react, Clair grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. Kamala screamed, struggling against her grip, but Clair was relentless.
"You're going to help me," Clair hissed as she dragged Kamala back toward Kendra's room.
"You're going to fix this with me. We're in this together, whether you like it or not."
Kamala's cries echoed down the empty hallways, but no one came.
When they returned to Kendra's room, Kamala's books still lay sprawled across the floor, Clair shoved her inside and locked the door. Kamala turned to her,hands shaking as she tried to wipe already running tears from her face.
"You're going to help me clean this up," Clair said, her tone deadly calm. Clair grabbed a bloodied knife from the floor and thrust it into her hands. Before taking a stronghold on Kamala's shoulders and forcing her to kneel at Kendra's side. Her eyes wide and breathing measured as she tried to wake herself from what should be a dream.
"No," Kamala whispered, trying to drop the knife, but Clair tightened her grip over Kamala's hands, forcing the blade downward.
"You hated her, didn't you?" Clair sneered, dragging Kamala forward until they knelt over Kendra's body.
"You knew she wasn't trying in the slightest"
"You've wanted this as much as I have. Admit it."
"YOU AT LEAST HOPED, DIDNT YOU?"
Kamala shook her head violently, tears blinding her. "No... Please, Clair, stop!"
Clair's grip only tightened, guiding Kamala's trembling hand to Kendra's chest. "Cut her," Clair demanded. "If I go down, you're going down with me."
Kamala cried out, trying to pull away, but Clair was relentless. Kamala's hand moved involuntarily, the knife slicing into Kendra's flesh as Kamala sobbed uncontrollably.
"Please," Kamala begged.
"I'll keep my mouth shut. Please."
Clair ignored her, her movements growing more frantic. In her panic, Clair snatched the knife from Kamala and tossed it aside, grabbing the gun instead.
"This is on you now," Clair said, her voice trembling. She shoved the gun into Kamala's hands, forcing her fingers around the trigger. "You're going to finish this."
Kamala shook her head, crying uncontrollably. "No, Clair. Please don't make me do this."
Clair's eyes blazed with desperation. "Do it, Kamala! Pull the trigger, or I will!"
Kamala's world spun as Clair pressed her hand against the trigger. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to stop the motion as the gun went off one final time.
When Kamala opened her eyes, the silence was deafening. Kendra lay motionless on the floor, and Clair stepped back, a satisfied smile creeping onto her face.
Kamala dropped the gun, collapsing against the floor as sobs wracked her body. She could still feel the weight of the weapon, the blood staining her hands, her shirt, her pants, her hair sweated out from the run, the horrific reality of what Clair had forced her to do.
Clair whispered, her voice almost soothing. "No one will know."
Kamala stared at the lifeless body before her, her chest heaving as the reality of what had just happened settled over her.
The hours passed in an unbearable blur. Kamala stood frozen in the middle of their shared dorm room, staring blankly at the floor. Her hands hung limply at her sides, stained faintly red, trembling as if they still held the gun Clair had forced her to fire.
Behind her, Clair moved with cold efficiency, stripping off her bloodied clothes and tossing them into a trash bag. She approached Kamala, her movements slow and deliberate, before gently tugging at Kamala's shirt.
"You have to change," Clair murmured, her voice devoid of its earlier hysteria. "We can't leave anything."
Kamala didn't respond, her body numb and uncooperative as Clair undressed her. Clair added Kamala's clothes to the growing pile in the bag, along with the weapon and anything else she deemed incriminating.
As she tied the bag shut, Clair glanced at Kamala, her expression softening.
"You're beautiful, you know," she said quietly, almost tenderly. "I've always thought so."
Kamala's chest tightened as fresh tears welled in her eyes. "I loved her," she whispered, her voice cracking.
"I loved Kendra."
Clair's hands faltered for a moment before she resumed tying the bag. "I had a feeling," she admitted, her tone flat. "But it doesn't matter now, does it? She's gone, Kamala. I did this for us."
Kamala broke down, her legs giving out as she crumpled onto her bed. She pulled the covers over herself, curling into a ball as sobs wracked her body. Clair watched her for a moment, an unreadable expression on her face, before grabbing the trash bag and heading out.
Kamala heard the door close and the sound of Clair's footsteps fading down the hall. Clair stuffed the bag into her car's trunk, muttering under her breath.
"She's lucky," Clair said softly, almost to herself, her grip tightening on the edge of the trunk.
"I could've shot her when she ran. But I wouldn't... not Kamala. Never Kamala."
As she slammed the trunk shut, Clair whispered a prayer, hoping Kamala would come to see things her way.
—
The next morning, Kamala woke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat. Her heart raced as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She stared down at her hands, faintly red-stained despite her scrubbing. She could still feel the ghost of the gun in her grip.
Turning her head, she froze. Clair was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at her intently.
Kamala recoiled, her voice shaky. "Are you going to hurt me?"
Clair tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What have I ever done to make you think I'd hurt you?"
"Nothing," Kamala said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. She slid off the bed, her back pressed to the wall as she inched toward the bathroom.
Once inside, she shut the door and locked it, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps.
Through the door, Clair's voice was calm, almost soothing. "I'd never hurt you, Kamala. Unless you made me."
Kamala clutched her knees to her chest, her back against the door. "Okay," she croaked, her voice trembling as tears spilled down her face.
Clair's voice softened. "We're in this together, Kamala. You'll see. Everything's going to be fine."
Kamala sobbed quietly, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how to escape the nightmare she was trapped in.
Present Day
Kamala stared blankly at the coffee table, the weight of her confession pressing down like a lead blanket. She didn't look up, waiting for one of the Tazara or Samara to say something. Anything. The silence stretched unbearably long until Tazara finally broke it.
"They never caught you?" Tazara asked, her voice low, almost disbelieving. "What about Kendra's body?"
Kamala swallowed hard, her throat dry. "They found her three weeks later because of the smell," she said, her voice flat, detached.
"Her case went cold. They found a man's DNA inside her... on her. They thought she'd been attacked at a party by some guy. But when they checked the dormitory cameras at the entrance, the only ones that worked, there wasn't anyone they could pin as a suspect. And since everyone in the dorms was female..." She trailed off, her gaze still fixed on the coffee table.
"Clair and I... we got away with it."
"Damn," Samara muttered, leaning back on the couch. The tension in the room was suffocating.
Tazara looked like she was about to say something else, but Samara interrupted, her words slightly slurred. "I think Siobhan might've given me mushrooms."
"What?" Kamala asked, her brows furrowing as she finally looked up.
"I knew it," Tazara hissed, sitting forward.
Samara gestured toward the fireplace, her movements sluggish and unsteady. "The fire... it's melting into the floor," she said in confusion.
Kamala laughed, but the sound was hollow, an awkward, uncomfortable burst. "Maybe we should all just calm down," she suggested, her eyes darting to Samara, who was now on her feet, swaying slightly as she shuffled toward the fireplace.
Samara didn't respond. Instead, she dropped in front of the fire, her body clueless how to get down any other way, curling up on the floor. A deep, gut-wrenching sob escaped her, shaking her entire body.
Tazara shot Kamala a look, equal parts frustration and concern. Kamala hesitated, then spoke softly. "Perhaps you should head home, Tazara. Get some sleep. I'll stay here with her and bring her back to the dorms once she's feeling better."
Tazara exhaled sharply, running a hand over her face. "You sure?"
"Yeah," Kamala said with a small nod. "I'll handle it."
Tazara stood reluctantly, grabbing her bag. "Thanks. I don't think I could deal with her if the shrooms are just kicking in."
Kamala watched as Tazara left, the door closing softly behind her. She turned her attention back to Samara, who was still crying in front of the fire, her sobs quieter now but no less heartbreaking. Kamala sat down a few feet away, legs crossed and resting in her lap, unsure of what to say or do.
"Samara, why are you crying?" She asked
Kamala watched Samara roll over, her face illuminated by the flickering light of the fire. Her cheeks were wet with tears, her eyes red and puffy as she turned to look at Kamala.
"I don't want to admit it," Samara murmured, her voice breaking.
" Siobhan... that she messed me up like this. She just... got into my head, Kamala. I don't like her, what she does but she just does it?"
Samara hesitated, her lips trembling before she whispered, "I'm sorry. I didn't listen to you, and I should have. You were right about going to that bar, about everything. Please... it wouldn't have happened if i-."
When Samara's sobs grew softer, Kamala shifted closer and gently pulled Samara's head into her lap. She began stroking her hair, the motion slow and soothing.
"Stop apologizing," Kamala said softly.
"This isn't your fault. If anything, it's mine. I pushed you away, and you ended up in someone else's arms, who didn't care about you the way you deserve. I'll help in any way I can with getting rid of her. "
Samara opened her mouth to protest, but Kamala silenced her with a gentle shush.
Samara looked up at her, searching her face. "What if I can't tell Siobhan to leave me alone?"
Kamala smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from Samara's face. "Trust me, if she doesn't want to leave you alone you can come to me, I promise I'll help you."
Samara's lips parted, and she declared, as loudly as she could manage, "No, I can handle this on my own. I'll do it "
Kamala tilted her head, seeing the lie in Samara's eyes. She sighed, her hand still stroking Samara's hair. "You're not fooling me, Samara."
Samara closed her eyes, her body trembling as she clung to Kamala's shirt. "I'm scared," she admitted in a whisper.
Kamala leaned back, settling more comfortably against the couch. "Then let's not worry about it tonight," she said gently. "We'll figure it out, but first, we both need to rest."
Samara shook her head, her grip on Kamala tightening. "I can't... I can't sleep. I don't want to be alone."
"You're not alone," Kamala assured her. She stayed still, letting Samara cling to her, waiting patiently.
Minutes turned into an hour, and Kamala didn't move, her hand still stroking Samara's hair until her breathing slowed, and she finally drifted into an uneasy sleep. Kamala stayed awake, her mind restless as she stared at the fire, she wondered if Siobhan.
December 26th
Samara stirred, for a moment, she didn't know where she was, but the warmth of Kamala's sheets brought it all back. She sat up slowly, her body feeling heavy, like a thousand bricks were pressing down on her chest.
Her mind was foggy, but one thought was clear—whatever came next had to start with getting Siobhan out of her life for good.
Sliding out of Kamala's bed, Samara moved quietly, careful not to wake her. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and called a ride. Sitting on Kamala's front steps, she wrapped her arms around herself, hoping Kamala wouldn't come looking for her before the car arrived.
The Uber pulled up, and she climbed in, sinking into the seat with a weary sigh. As they approached her dorm, her heart sank. Siobhan's car was parked out front.
Samara stepped out of the car and trudged toward her building, dread pooling in her stomach. The moment she opened the door to her dorm room, she heard them shouting.
"I knew you were a predator!"
"Samara told me everything. How you forced her hand between your legs, stole her ID, her key, showed up here uninvited to force her to smoke your garbage, and drugged her with shrooms!"
Samara froze in the doorway, her breath hitching.
"You made her green out, hallucinate, and when she passed out, you came back! God knows what you did to her while she was out! She woke up in her underwear, YOU BITCH!" Tazara was trembling with anger, fists wound tight, at her sides.
"You're a sick weirdo, and you deserve to be put in jail!"
Samara stepped inside just as Siobhan opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, Samara cut in.
"Stop," Samara said, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat.
Siobhan turned to her, her eyes wide and pleading, but Samara's expression didn't waver. Instead of speaking, Siobhan crossed the room in a few swift steps, pulling Samara's face into her hands and kissing her.
Samara stiffened in shock, but before she could react, Siobhan hugged her tightly, her body shaking with sobs.
"I'm sorry," Siobhan choked out, her voice muffled against Samara's shoulder.
"I just— I don't know what's wrong with me. I never meant to hurt you. I swear I didn't."
Tazara started, her fury momentarily replaced with disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me."
Samara gently pushed Siobhan back, her gaze hard.
Samara gently pushed Siobhan back, her gaze hard and unyielding.
"You need to leave, Siobhan. You can't just show up here unannounced—or ever, really. I'll meet you tomorrow for that date, but after that, we're done. I'm not going to your place, and you're not coming back here. We're going our separate ways."
Siobhan's face twisted with anger.
"You're weak," she spat, shoving Samara in the chest. "The only reason you don't want to be with me is because that old bitch probably told you not to. You let everyone else control you because you're too much of a coward to live your own life!"
"You fuck that old bitch when she acts like your damn mother"
Samara's jaw tightened as she steadied herself. "Get the hell out," she said, her voice low but filled with authority.
Siobhan glared at both of them. She flipped them off as she stomped toward the door, slamming it shut behind her with enough force to rattle the walls.
Tazara let out a long sigh and pulled Samara into a hug. "You shouldn't even bother with that last date," she said quietly.
Samara leaned into the embrace for a moment before pulling back. "It'll probably keep her off me for good if I give her that much," she replied.
Tazara frowned but didn't argue. "Alright, but after tomorrow, she's out of your life for good. Promise me."
"Promise," Samara said with a small nod. She rubbed her temples, her exhaustion evident.
"Can we just have a normal day or something? Winter break hasn't exactly been normal, or a break."
Tazara chuckled lightly. "Fair point. And we are not getting high. Not after the nightmare of your last trip."
Samara smirked faintly, grabbing her keys from the table. "Fine by me. What are we doing, then?"
"Let's hit up the campus café, box up as much food as we can, and then binge a show or something," Tazara suggested, slinging her arm around Samara's shoulders.
Samara laughed softly, her first genuine laugh in days. "I can get behind that."
With that, the two headed out, leaving the tension of the dorm behind as they looked forward to at least one day of peace.
December 27th
Samara stood outside the restaurant, shivering slightly as the cool air bit at her skin. She glanced at her watch, her nerves prickling. She'd rehearsed what she wanted to say countless times, but now that the moment was here, the words felt tangled in her chest.
Still, they didn't seem to hold the weight she wanted.
After an hour of waiting, Siobhan finally arrived, she seemed weighted down by an uncharacteristic hesitance. She offered Samara a small smile as they walked in together and sat down, ordering water and simple dishes.
The evening started off awkwardly, the silence between them heavy and uncomfortable. Siobhan was the first to break it, her voice low and pleading.
"Samara, I'm sorry. I know I've messed up, but I'm willing to change. Please, just give me another chance. I swear I'll be better."
Samara's resolve wavered for a moment, but she forced herself to stay firm. "No, Siobhan. We're done. All of that isn't something I can just move past."
Siobhan's expression crumpled, her desperation seeping through. "I love you, Samara. I can fix this. I will fix this."
Samara shook her head, refusing to meet Siobhan's gaze. "Love isn't supposed to feel like this," she said quietly. "I won't do this anymore. Besides, I have someone who actually will change for me "
Their food arrived, cutting the conversation short. They ate in tense silence, the clinking of silverware the only sound between them. Samara barely touched her food, her appetite gone. She signaled for the bill and asked for boxes, already planning her exit.
As the server left, Siobhan reached across the table, her fingers brushing against Samara's hand. She leaned forward, her voice soft and coaxing.
"You don't have to go. Let's talk this through. I know you still care about me."
Samara pulled her hand back, shifting in her seat to create more distance. "Siobhan, stop," she said firmly.
Siobhan's smile faltered, but she didn't back down. Her hand found its way to Samara's arm, caressing gently. Samara recoiled, her frustration boiling over. Without another word, she stood, placing cash on the table to cover the bill. She gathered her things and turned toward the door, not bothering to wait for Siobhan.
"Samara, wait—" Siobhan called after her, but Samara didn't stop.
She walked out into the chilly night, her breath clouding in the air as she exhaled deeply, feeling lighter with each step she took away from Siobhan.
Samara walked briskly down the dimly lit street toward campus, the sound of her footsteps mingling with the cold night air. She reached the crosswalk, the red light glaring down as she waited for it to change. The muffled sound of hurried steps behind her made her heart sink.
"Samara!" Siobhan's voice rang out, frantic and pleading. "Samara, stop!"
Samara closed her eyes, willing herself to keep walking, but Siobhan caught up to her, her voice turning desperate. "
You're making a mistake. I know I screwed up, but I can be better for you. You just haven't seen it yet."
Samara whirled around, her eyes blazing. "No, Siobhan, you're the mistake! I wasted my time on you, and I'm not about to find out how you think you can be better for me. Maybe for lowering my tolerance to drugs, sure, but for me? Never."
Siobhan's face darkened, her desperation curdling into anger.
"You don't get to talk to me like that," she spat, stepping closer. "You don't get to just ignore me like I'm nothing!"
Samara turned her back on her, muttering, "You're acting like a crazy person."
That was all it took. Siobhan lunged forward, shoving Samara hard in the back. Samara stumbled, catching herself just before falling. Siobhan didn't stop. She slapped at Samara's arm, pinched her side, and hissed curses under her breath, her frustration boiling over.
"You're not listening to me!" Siobhan screeched, pushing Samara again.
Samara gritted her teeth, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. She kept walking, her jaw tight, until they reached the dormitory parking lot. She stopped abruptly, realizing Siobhan had followed her all the way here, leaving her car back at the restaurant.
"You left your car," Samara said flatly, hoping to jar Siobhan into leaving.
Instead, Siobhan grabbed her face and kissed her forcefully. When she pulled back, her eyes searched Samara's, expecting her to reciprocate.
Samara shoved her away, her voice sharp. "Are you insane? You think giving someone shrooms without their knowledge is anything but an attempt to hurt them? You're a crazy, stupid bitch if you do!"
Siobhan smirked, her lips curling into a twisted grin.
"I gave you the shrooms so you'd loosen up, so you'd really get on my level, silly." She bit her lip, her eyes lowering as she tried to press herself against Samara again.
Samara stepped back, her body rigid with disgust. "Get away from me, stay away from me." she growled, turning and walking toward the dorm entrance.
Siobhan trailed after her, her voice growing shrill. "You're an ungrateful, uptight prude, you know that? That old hag doesn't want you. No one does!"
Samara stopped, her fists clenched. She turned back, her voice cutting like ice. "You're an uneducated, weird, drug-addict bitch, hmm. How's that?"
She started to walk away again when Siobhan lunged, jumping onto her back. Samara stumbled, struggling to shake her off as they careened toward a nearby bench. Her knees hit the cold ground, and she gasped as Siobhan clawed at her, shrieking incoherent words in her ear.
Samara fought with all her might, her screams tearing through the cold night air as Siobhan tightened her grip around her neck, forcing her to stay on her knees.
"Just give me another chance!" Siobhan demanded, her voice a manic mix of desperation and fury.
"No!" Samara rasped, clawing at Siobhan's arm, her nails digging into the flesh in a desperate attempt to free herself. Her lungs burned as Siobhan's grip grew tighter.
"You owe me this!" Siobhan snarled, leaning closer as she held Samara in place.
Samara's vision blurred as panic set in, her breaths shallow and ragged. Her voice cracked as she gasped out, "Fine! I'll give you another chance! Just—let me go!"
Siobhan froze for a moment, then loosened her grip. Her manic energy shifted, and she stood, stepping back with a satisfied smile.
"See? I knew you'd come around," she said, her tone calm now.
Samara fell forward, clutching her throat as she gulped down air. Her body trembled with a mixture of fear and rage, but before she could react further, Siobhan simply walked off into the night as if nothing had happened, her figure disappearing into the shadows.
For a long moment, Samara remained on the ground, trying to process what had just happened. She finally scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding as she stumbled toward the dorm entrance. Her hands fumbled with her keys, but she managed to get inside. The dorm felt suffocating, but the sight of Tazara's sleeping form brought her a small bit of comfort. Samara didn't dare wake her, instead retreating to her bed silently. She pulled the covers over her head, her body shaking as she tried to calm herself.
January 2nd
The first day back from winter break was supposed to be uneventful. Samara had spent her days eating and lazing around with Tazara, blissfully ignoring Siobhan's existence. It was a getaway she hadn't anticipated, but didn't complain about. But now, sitting in Kamala's class, her mind wandered far from the lesson. Samara rested her chin on her hand, her gaze fixed on Kamala, who was explaining the course material with her usual intensity. Her words became a hum in Samara's ears as she drifted off, imagining scenarios far removed from this classroom: holding hands with Kamala on a date, lazy mornings wrapped in her arms, stolen kisses before lectures.
Tazara nudged her sharply, dragging her back to reality. "Samara," she whispered, nodding toward the back of the room.
Samara turned and froze. A girl sat in the far corner, mostly hidden by her hair. She was smiling and waving at her, the gesture unnervingly familiar. She couldn't quite make out her face, but Samara didn't like her all too well, or at least how much the girl seemed to think or at least hope.
Unease crept up Samara's spine. She gave a hesitant wave, turning back quickly as Tazara stifled a laugh.
"Someone's jealous of the new girl," Tazara teased under her breath.
Samara sighed, ignoring her. She couldn't help but glance toward Kamala, whose raised brow and brief pause in speech betrayed her curiosity.
As class ended, students gathered their things and filed out. Samara told Tazara she'd stay behind to talk to Kamala.
"Try not to get freaky," Tazara teased, winking as she left.
Samara's cheeks burned. "Shut up," she muttered, avoiding eye contact.
She stayed by her desk, waiting as Kamala stepped out for a moment, she began to fiddle with random objects on her desk. Her heart raced, anticipation building. But then she felt hands on her shoulders, startling her.
She turned quickly. It was the girl from the back of the room. Not Kamala in the slightest.
"Excuse me?" Samara said, taking a step back.
The girl smiled, her eyes sharp and unnerving. "Don't you recognize me, Samara? I thought we'd try again, make things more... interesting."
"Siobhan." Samara's voice was flat, edged with disbelief.
'How in the hell did you even get into the law building?' Samara though
Siobhan stepped closer, forcing Samara to back toward the front of the room. "I thought we'd start here. Then work our way to your place. Then maybe go for a third round at mine... What do you think?"
"I think you need to leave me alone," Samara snapped, her voice shaking.
"I'm seeing someone. This isn't happening. I lied."
Siobhan caught Samara's wrist, yanking her close. Her nails dug into Samara's hip as she pushed her against Kamala's desk, her body flush against hers.
"Calm down," Siobhan said, her voice dripping with mock reassurance. "Sit on the desk for me."
Samara resisted, but Siobhan's grip tightened, her nails biting into Samara's skin until the pain forced her compliance. Her face remained all the same, though. She slid onto the desk, trembling.
Siobhan loomed over her, her hand cupping Samara's chin as she tilted her head up. Her smile was dark, her eyes filled with twisted intent as she stood between Samara's legs.
"Now you're gonna kiss me, and I'm going to ruin you on this desk, okay?" Siobhan murmured, her voice soft yet menacing.
Samara's breath hitched, her mind racing. She needed to get away, but her body felt frozen under Siobhan's gaze. She hoped desperately that Kamala would walk back in before things escalated any further.
Siobhan gripped Samara's head tightly, her fingers digging into her scalp as she forced their lips together in a deep, violent kiss. Samara immediately began screaming, her cries muffled against Siobhan's mouth. She thrashed and pushed at Siobhan's shoulders, trying to escape.
"Stop screaming," Siobhan growled, her tone sharp and full of irritation.
"We'll stay like this until you do."
But Samara didn't stop. Her screams only grew louder, her voice raw with desperation. Frustrated, Siobhan pulled back and slapped a hand over Samara's mouth.
"You're making this so difficult! Ugh, this is fucking why I give you fantastic shit, you always like to fight me?!" Siobhan snapped, her other hand fumbling to unbutton Samara's pants.
"No!" Samara cried, her tears streaming down her face.
"Stop! Is that all you think I am? A sex doll who soaks up your weed? You're sick! I should've called the cops the first night we had sex. You're disgusting, and you're going to jail if you ever touch me again!"
Siobhan froze for a moment, her face twisting with rage. She raised her hand, as though to slap Samara, but the door burst open before she could.
"Get the hell off her!" Kamala's voice was sharp and commanding, echoing through the lecture hall. She strode in with fierce determination, her phone in hand.
"I already called the campus police. But if you prefer to spend time in prison, where you belong, you're about to get your wish."
Siobhan hesitated, her confidence faltering. She turned to Kamala, sneering. "You didn't call anyone, and you really think I give a shit about some campus police?"
"Then I can call the real one, and I can play prosecutor?"
"Samara wouldn't back you up if you did."
"Yes, I would!" Samara yelled, her voice trembling but still firm in the idea.
Siobhan smirked, taking a step toward Samara. "No, you wouldn't. If I told you to keep quiet, you'd stay quiet. You're scared of me."
Siobhan suddenly lunged toward her, making Samara flinch and instinctively retreat behind Kamala, who immediately pushed her back, shielding her.
"Touch her again, and I'll make sure you rot in jail," Kamala spat, her voice low.
"You're pathetic," Siobhan snarled.
"She's pathetic. A twenty-something acting like a scared little kid. And you!" She pointed at Kamala.
"You're delusional if you think this is love. She's just your personal nurse until you're old enough for life, alert!"
The cruel jab made Samara snap. Fury replaced her fear as she stepped around Kamala and marched toward Siobhan.
"Shut. Up!" Samara slapped Siobhan hard across the face, her voice trembling with rage. She grabbed Siobhan by the collar and shook her, her anger boiling over. "You're done. Do you hear me? DONE! DON'T COME BACK OR I WILL BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU?"
Before it could escalate further, campus police stormed in, pulling them apart. Siobhan thrashed as they restrained her, shouting obscenities, while Samara stood trembling as another officer gently held her back.
Once Siobhan was escorted out, Kamala turned to Samara, her hands cupping Samara's face.
"Hey, it's okay," Kamala said softly, her thumb brushing away a tear.
"I'm really proud of you for doing that, I'm glad your god got rid of, a little late is better than never. But we are calling the cops on her, right?" Kamala said as Samara sat on the edge of one of the desks as Kamala stood in front of her looking her over, her exhaustion clear from Siobhan
"Thanks, but it's no point in calling the police, they wouldn't take it serious anyway... but at least I know that the world won't implode if I tell a girl no?" Samara joked bitterly
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence.
"How are things with you? We haven't been in each other's presence in a while. And I understand it will be odd for you and tazara to be the only ones without internships during the internship period of this class, but It's nothing to worry about truly, those days everyone should be at their internships you can just be doing whatever, I know you and tazara like doing nothing" she joked as she walked around her desk
"Humph, yeah..."
And there that silence was again.
She sat down at her desk, her legs folded as Samara watched from across the room, her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, she doubted herself.
No?
She couldn't?
But she felt like she could?
Would Kamala even allow that?
Would she like that?
Would she care?
Would she just embarrass herself?