FROM SAGE TO SAVED

FIRST DEFINITION OF CRAZY FUN TO US

They say every group has a name, but not ours—at least not at first. I called us the Dropshots, which no one accepted, but none of them had the energy to come up with something better. The name changed later, of course, after additions and subtractions, to something like Manawe and Manaus, a name born from a random guy who somehow ended up in our orbit.

But back then? Back then, we didn't care about names. We were too busy being a vibe.Drugs weren't really our thing—not at first, anyway. I'm mentioning that now, so you can see the difference between the first-semester version of us and what we became by second and third.Our kind of fun was... different. One time, we pooled our money to buy roasted meat, only to realize there wasn't enough for everyone. "The mbogi is too big," someone muttered as we shared scraps like it was a medieval feast. Thursdays, we lived for the buy-one-get-one-free pizza offer, practically racing to grab a table before the deal was gone.

Maya, though? Maya was the MVP. She always had snacks tucked away in her suitcase—probably enough to feed a small village. In the evenings, we'd invade her room like bandits, raiding her stash. And let's not forget her kettle and endless supply of hot cocoa. Somehow, we always had enough cups for everyone, even though no one remembers bringing any.

Tallie, our South African wonder, turned out to be a YouTuber. She filmed everything. Makeup tutorials, random vlogs, even basketball court antics. None of it ever made it online, though—those videos lived and died on her phone. We'd spend entire afternoons experimenting with her scrubbers and neon eyeshadows, smearing colors on each other's faces for no reason other than the sheer thrill of it. No parties, no outings—just photos, laughter, and then scrubbing it all off like the chaos never happened.

At some point, you might have noticed something: the stud version of me? Yeah, she wasn't prominent here.

Evenings were their own tradition. We'd head to the basketball court, where Felix, Jace, and Marcus showed off their moves while I... well, I showed off my ability to miss every single shot. Honestly, I couldn't land a basket to save my life. Latisha, on the other hand, was either snapping pictures of sunsets or showing us how it's done on the court. Maya recorded everything—every play, every laugh, every stumble.

Tallie? She didn't even pretend to care about the game. She'd sit off to the side, waiting for us to finish. "Y'all done yet?" she'd ask, smirking, while the rest of us ran out of breath and excuses.Once the game was over, we'd walk back together, waiting for everyone to freshen up before heading to supper. It was like clockwork: shower, regroup, eat. Simple, but it felt like family.The nights were the best part. Game nights at their hostel were sacred. Because we were four girls, it wasn't a big deal for us to crash there, and we'd play until the clock struck 10. Then came the legendary night walks, always ending at Tallie's room, which was inconveniently far from mine.

Weekends were for the sleepovers. Sometimes, we'd take over someone's place, cooking absurd amounts of food and eating like it was our last meal. Video games became the soundtrack to those nights, punctuated by laughter and the occasional mock argument over who was really winning.

It was simple, chaotic, and warm.There were no fights in our group. No drama, no tension, just a strange, unspoken peace that held us together. We were satisfied with the little things—long walks, shared meals, stolen moments.We were one.And even though I didn't know it yet, those moments were saving me in ways I hadn't thought possible.