WELCOME TO SONNYDALE

Meredith

The second I stepped onto Sonydale’s campus, I felt it. Freedom.

I could sense it in the chatter of students lounging on the grass, in the music blasting from someone’s Bluetooth speaker, in the couples tangled together on benches like no one was watching.

Nobody was watching.

Not me, at least. No overbearing parents. No one deciding where I could go, what I could do. I was finally on my own.

I clutched the strap of my backpack, breathing in the crisp warm air as I stood in the middle of campus. A mix of excitement and panic churned in my stomach. This is it. I made it.

I looked around, trying to take everything in. The massive library with its glass walls. The student centre with its café. The dorm buildings lined up like little brick kingdoms.

People walked past me, moving in groups, talking, laughing. Like they’d been doing this forever. Like they belonged.

And then there was me.

Alone.

My stomach tightened. I’d imagined this moment so many times, had pictured myself stepping onto campus and immediately fitting in. But now that I was here… it wasn’t that simple.

I inhaled sharply and pushed forward, dragging my duffel bag toward my dorm. This was what I wanted. It didn’t matter if it felt overwhelming. I was here.

I could figure out the rest later.

The dorm smelled like fresh paint and cheap air fresheners, and the walls were plastered with welcome posters. Girls bustled in and out of rooms, hugging friends, dragging in suitcases, chatting like this was just another year for them.

"Meredith Keeler?"

I turned to see a girl with bright red curls and round glasses, holding a clipboard.

"That’s me," I said.

She smiled. "I’m your RA, Liz. Welcome to Cedar Hall! Your room’s on the third floor—307." She handed me a key. "Your roommate’s already there."

I swallowed. Roommate. Right. Another thing I had never experienced before.

I nodded, forcing a smile. "Thanks."

The elevator ride up felt long, and by the time I reached my door, my palms were sweaty. Please don’t be weird. Please don’t be awful.

I turned the key and stepped inside.

A girl sat cross-legged on her bed, scrolling through her phone. Perfectly styled hair. A tiny crop top. A practised bored expression on her dark made-up face and smoky eyes.

She looked up, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. "You must be Meredith."

I nodded, shifting under her gaze. "Yeah."

She smirked, tossing her phone aside. "Cool. I’m Skye." Then she flopped back onto her bed like she couldn’t care less.

I blinked. Okay. That could’ve been worse.

I set my bag down on my bed, taking in the unfamiliar space. Two twin beds, two desks, two tiny closets. The start of something new.

High school had been a different kind of hell.

Back then, I wasn’t invisible—I was just wrong.

I tried to fit in. I really did. I studied Chloe, Beth, and Jasmine like they were a code I could crack. The cool girls. The ones who skipped class just to hang out, who flirted effortlessly, who never seemed to care about anything.

I copied the way they talked, the way they laughed, the way they flipped their hair at boys.

But I was always off. Too literal. Too awkward. Too much.

They let me hang around, but I was never one of them. I was just there. Like a stray cat they sometimes fed but never actually cared about.

And when I finally stopped trying, when I embraced the fact that I’d rather be buried in my coding projects than at some wild party?

They stopped pretending, too. Except Chloe who came around after high school. By senior year, I was just the quiet girl in the corner, watching life happen instead of living it.

But college was different. I was different. I wasn’t going to sit in the corner anymore.

The first few days at Sonydale were… strange. Not bad. Just different.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t have to check in with anyone. No one asked where I was going. No one told me what to do. And yet, the freedom felt almost suffocating.

I woke up early, still used to my strict morning routine, but there was no mom reminding me to eat breakfast, no dad hovering with his disapproving gaze. Just me, in a room that still didn’t quite feel like mine.

And Skye.

My roommate was effortlessly cool in a way I knew I could never be. She had the kind of confidence that made people gravitate toward her, always on her phone, always making plans, always effortlessly put together.

We weren’t exactly friends.

Not yet, at least.

She didn’t go out of her way to make conversation, and I didn’t either. But there was something easy about our silence. She did her thing, I did mine, and we coexisted.

That was enough for now.

Classes were another thing entirely. Back in high school, I had always been the smart one. The one who understood things quickly, who had teachers doting on her, who thrived in structured environments.

Sonydale wasn’t like that. Here, everyone was smart.

Every class felt like a battlefield, filled with students who had been competing their whole lives. No one waited for you to catch up. You either kept up, or you got left behind.

I liked the challenge. But it also scared me.

Especially because for the first time in my life, I was struggling.

Not with coding, that part was easy. But social interactions, forming study groups, knowing when to speak up and when to shut up; those things didn’t come naturally to me.

I had spent years watching people, trying to understand how they worked. And yet, I still felt like I was missing something.

Like I was a step behind.

"Hey, loser, get up."

I groaned into my pillow. "What?"

Skye stood over me, arms crossed, already dressed in some tiny crop top and ripped jeans. Her dark brown hair was in a sleek ponytail, and she smelled like expensive perfume.

"We’re going out," she said. "Get dressed."

I blinked. "Out where?"

"A club."

I sat up. "I don’t really—"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, you don’t do clubs. Whatever. But you do need to start acting like a normal college student, and that includes having a life outside your laptop."

I hesitated.

She sighed dramatically and sat on my bed. "Look, you’re not a total bore. You just… don’t know how to have fun. So I’m doing you a favor. You’re coming with me, no arguments."

I stared at her. No one had ever forced me to have fun before.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

"Fine," I muttered.

She grinned. "Good girl. Now put on something hot."

I blinked. "Something what?"

She groaned, yanking open my closet. "Jesus, do you own anything that isn’t a hoodie?"

"I like hoodies!"

"Yeah, and I like tequila. But we all have to make sacrifices."

Before I could argue, she tossed a black dress at me. "Wear that. And for the love of God, do something with your hair."

I huffed but took the dress. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I could learn how to be like her. Like them.

Like everyone else.

By the time I was done dressing, I looked in the mirror and felt like a different person. The dress fell just above my knees, the material clinging to my skin and exposing every curve. It made me feel different but exposed in a way. Perhaps it's the open back.

Then, Skye helped with my hair and my subtle makeup. My black curls were now bouncing on my shoulders with the bangs falling over my forehead. My lids were coated in glittery eyeshadow and at once, I felt like the girls in high school.

We got to the club, a couple miles away from school. The moment we stepped inside, I knew I didn’t belong.

The club was a different world, dark, loud, pulsing with energy I didn’t know how to match. The music was deafening, the bass thrumming through my chest like a second heartbeat.

Bodies moved everywhere, pressed together, swaying, touching. The air smelled like sweat, alcohol, and perfume so strong it made my head spin.

I hovered near the entrance, watching as Skye and her friends melted into the crowd. Like they’d done this a thousand times.

Like they weren’t completely overwhelmed.

Unlike me.

I took a shaky breath and made my way toward the bar. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but holding something in my hands would at least give me a reason not to stand there looking like an idiot.

I ordered something mild—something I wouldn’t regret later—and perched on a stool, taking in the chaos.

And then my eyes caught a figure sitting in the corner with a glass in hand.

He wasn’t like the other men in the club.

While most were rowdy, laughing, pressing against women with practised ease, he was still. Seated in the corner, back straight, drink in hand. Watching.

He looked… out of place. Like he didn’t belong here any more than I did.

And yet, he was completely at ease.

He wore a dark button-down, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show strong, veined forearms. His athletic build was impossible to ignore, broad shoulders tapering into a lean, powerful frame. As he shifted on his seat, I imagined sitting on his powerful thighs.

But it was his face that held me captive.

Sharp, brooding features, like they had been carefully carved by an artist’s hands. Thick, dark brows framed eyes that were impossible to read—too deep, too intense.

A five o’clock shadow darkened his jaw, making him look both rugged and refined. And then there was his hair, thick and slightly tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it one too many times.

I didn’t realize I was staring until his gaze lifted—and locked onto mine.

My breath hitched.

Oh, shit.