Rival Lovers

| 019 |

Tilly's dorm was as messy as ever—clothes draped over the chair, textbooks piled on the desk, and an empty pizza box precariously balanced on top of her mini-fridge. But it was Tilly's space, and somehow, the chaos felt comforting.

I was sitting cross-legged on her bed, lazily flipping through a magazine, while she paced back and forth, mumbling under her breath.

"Tilly," I said, not looking up, "if you're going to wear a hole in the carpet, can you at least tell me what's got you spiralling this time?"

She stopped mid-step, turning to face me with wide eyes. "Zaara, you're going to lose your shit when I tell you this."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'm listening."

Tilly groaned, dragging her hands down her face before flopping onto the bed beside me. "You know how I was, like, super drunk last night?"

"Yeah..." I said slowly, already sensing where this was going.

"Well," she said, avoiding my gaze, "I may or may not have made out with someone I absolutely hate."

I froze, my brain immediately running through a list of people Tilly despised. And when the answer hit me, I gasped. "No. No. Tilly, please don't tell me—"

"Jay," she blurted, covering her face with her hands. "It was Jay."

"Oh my God," I said, dropping the magazine and staring at her in disbelief. "You made out with Jay? The same Jay who nearly ran you over at the race?"

"It wasn't a full-on hit!" she snapped defensively, sitting up. "It was more like a... light tap. With a car. But that's not the point!"

"Tilly," I said, still trying to wrap my head around it, "you hate him. You've hated him ever since that night. And honestly, you had every right to. He's—"

"—an egotistical man-child who thinks the world revolves around him. I know!" she interrupted, groaning. "I can't believe I let him sweet-talk me. But in my defence, I was drunk, and he was there, smirking like the arrogant prick he is."

I shook my head, half in shock and half in amusement. "What exactly did he say to you?"

She groaned again, flopping back onto the bed. "He said something about how I 'clean up nice,' which, like, duh, I know that. And then he started going on about how the whole car race thing was 'ancient history' and we should 'let bygones be bygones.' Next thing I know, he's leaning in, and my stupid drunk brain was like, 'Sure, why not?'"

I stared at her, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to yell at her. "Tilly, why?"

"I don't know!" she cried, throwing a pillow over her face. "It just happened, okay? I wasn't thinking straight. And now I feel gross because I let Jay of all people kiss me."

I couldn't help it—I started laughing.

"This isn't funny!" she whined, pulling the pillow off her face to glare at me. "I feel like I need to bathe in bleach."

"Oh, come on," I said, still laughing. "You've got to admit, this is kind of hilarious. You, of all people, making out with Jay? The guy you've been calling 'the world's biggest douchebag' for the past week?"

She groaned, covering her face again. "I hate myself."

"Okay, but real talk," I said, sobering slightly. "What are you going to do if you see him again? Because knowing Jay, he's not going to let this go. He'll probably bring it up just to mess with you."

Tilly sat up, her expression grim. "I'm going to ignore him. Pretend it never happened. And if he tries to bring it up, I'll just remind him that he hit me with his car."

"Lightly tapped," I corrected, smirking.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. The point is, I'll handle it. I just needed to tell someone before I exploded."

"Well," I said, leaning back against the wall, "if nothing else, at least your love life is entertaining."

"Oh, shut up," she said, tossing a pillow at me.

We both dissolved into laughter, the tension from her confession finally easing. But as we sat there, I couldn't help but think about Jay and how he always seemed to get under Tilly's skin. They were like fire and gasoline, constantly clashing, but there was something about the way she talked about him that made me wonder if there was more to their dynamic than just mutual hatred.

I shook the thought away. It wasn't my business, and honestly, I had enough drama of my own to deal with.

"So," Tilly said after a moment, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Now that I've spilled my deepest, darkest secret, what's going on with you and Lucas?"

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Don't start."

"Oh, come on," she said, nudging me with her elbow. "You've got to admit, the tension between you two is palpable."

"There's no tension," I said quickly, my voice muffled by my hands.

"Right," she said, dragging out the word. "That's why he was ready to fight Kian over you last night. Totally platonic."

I lifted my head to glare at her. "Tilly, I swear to God—"

"Relax," she said, grinning. "I'm just saying, if you two did hook up, I wouldn't blame you. Lucas is hot."

"Lucas is annoying," I corrected.

"And hot," she added, wiggling her eyebrows.

I groaned, tossing a pillow at her. "You're the worst."

"I know," she said, laughing. "But seriously, Zaara. Be careful, okay? I don't want you getting hurt again."

Her tone had shifted, and I could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

"I'll be fine," I said softly, offering her a small smile. "But thanks."

She nodded, and for a moment, there was silence. But then she smirked, the playful glint returning to her eyes.

"Still," she said, leaning back against the headboard. "If you ever do decide to kiss Lucas, let me know. I want all the details."

I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. "You're impossible."

"Yeah," she said, grinning. "But you love me."

And she wasn't wrong.