The restaurant buzzed with the soft clatter of plates and low morning chatter. Sunlight streamed through the wide glass windows, spilling across the polished floor like warm honey. Everything glowed. The chairs gleamed, the glassware sparkled, and the soft hum of quiet conversation filled the space with a comfortable, lazy energy.
The air smelled like pan fried noodles, pepper, citrus, and freshly wiped countertops. It was familiar and bright enough to distract me, at least briefly, from the thoughts swirling in my mind.
I sat across from Amara, Chelley, and Lela, the trio I had fallen in with since the semester started. They had known each other since secondary school, so I was more like an adopted friend. Included but not woven in. Close enough to sit with them, far enough to maintain my silence without it being questioned.
Our food arrived quickly. Stir fried beef noodles, steaming and glossy, decorated with thin slices of green pepper and carrot. The mock-tails were cold and fruity, condensation sliding lazily down the glasses like paint strokes. The sweetness of pineapple mixed with the citrus scent rising from the plates, filling my nose with something that should have felt comforting.
But all I could think about was the night before.
Amara twirled her fork and then glanced up at me slowly, her eyes already suspicious. She never missed a shift in energy. "So. What exactly did you do this weekend?"
Chelley leaned forward immediately, excitement glimmering in her shimmer gloss. Lela paused with her straw halfway to her mouth, her soft eyes fixed on me like she sensed a storm brewing.
I lifted my fork and tried to act casual as I stirred my noodles. "Um. Something."
Amara narrowed her eyes. "Zuri." Her voice was firm and sharp in the way only Amara could manage. "Say it."
I tried to breathe, but the moment felt too pressured. Like the truth would land in the middle of the table and explode.
I closed my eyes briefly, exhaled, dropped my fork and said it.
"I smoked weed."
For a heartbeat, the restaurant noise faded.
Then the table erupted.
Amara's jaw dropped as she leaned back like I had thrown the confession directly at her chest. "You did what?"
Chelley gasped and slapped the table. "Zuri. No. You did not."
Lela's eyes grew impossibly big. "Wait. On purpose?"
I blinked at her. "Obviously on purpose. What does accidental smoking even look like. Do you think it crawled into my lungs while I was sleeping?" I asked visibly irritated.
Amara pushed her plate away and stared at me like she could not recognize her own friend. She folded her arms. "Why would you do that? Since when do you smoke anything?"
"I just wanted to try it," I said, shrugging as casually as I could. "I was bored, no one pressured me."
"That is crazy," Chelley muttered, leaning in as if she was about to stage an intervention. "With who, though? Because that is the important part. Who were you smoking with?"
The moment stretched too long.
I hesitated.
Amara's eyes sharpened instantly. "Zuri. Who."
I sighed because now it was unavoidable. "Karros. And some of his friends."
The effect was catastrophic.
Chelley's hand flew to her chest like she was having heart palpitations. "No. You did not. Zuri. Please."
Lela looked around the restaurant like someone had spoken a forbidden name. "Karros? As in Karros?"
Amara dragged both hands down her face. "Zuri. Oh my god."
My stomach tightened. "What? What exactly is the problem?"
Amara leaned forward, lowering her voice as if people would overhear. "You hung out with him. That group. Zuri. They are not like us."
"But not in a dangerous way," Chelley added quickly, waving her hands as if clarifying the universe. "They are not criminals. That is not what we mean."
"No," Lela whispered. "They are just… different."
Amara nodded. "Too different."
I blinked. "Different how?"
Chelley sighed like it pained her to explain. "Their lifestyle is too feral. Too daring. They act like they are outside the rules of this school. Like nothing touches them. Like they move through life without caring about anything normal."
"They do whatever they want," Lela added gently. "Sometimes it is cool to watch, but also confusing."
Amara made a face. "And they know they are mysterious. They walk around like there is some exclusive world they live in that none of us can enter. They do not blend in. They do not try to. They are like a different species altogether."
Chelley pointed her fork at me dramatically. "And they are too intense socially. They do not mingle with anyone unless they feel like it. They look at people like they are reading their entire existence."
Lela nodded. "People say that crew is too wild, too unpredictable. Sometimes they stay hidden for days. Sometimes they appear at parties like they own the place."
"And sometimes," Chelley cut in, "they stare too deeply at people for too long. It is a lot."
I tried hard not to smile. Karros staring too deeply. Yes. That I knew.
Amara softened a little. "We just want you to be careful. They are not trouble. Just… too much."
I lifted my glass and took a slow sip. "He was nice. He helped me. It was not crazy."
Chelley arched a brow so high it nearly disappeared into her wig. "Nice? Zuri. That man is not just nice. He gives intense."
Lela nodded. "He gives something you should not get tangled in."
Amara added, "They live boldly. You do not want to get sucked into that."
I tried to roll my eyes, but even that came out gentle. "It was not deep. I smoked. He passed it to me. We talked. That is it."
Chelley scoffed quietly. "People like him do not just talk. If he gave you attention, trust me, he had a reason."
Lela muttered almost to herself, "He is too bold for no reason."
Amara watched me for a long moment. "Just promise me one thing. Do not let yourself get dragged into their vibe. You are grounded. You like calm. That crew is the opposite."
My chest tightened as I remembered the balcony. The way Karros had held my hand. The way his voice had curled around me. The way the world seemed to sharpen and soften at the same time.
I remembered how he looked at me.
Like he already knew me.
Like he recognized something inside me.
Like he could feel the same spark I felt.
Dangerous?
Not exactly.
Too daring?
Maybe.
But the real problem was simple.
Their warnings did not scare me.
Not even a little.
And that quiet fearless feeling in my chest was far more terrifying than anything they could have said to me.