Milka glanced at her phone and froze mid-motion, her glass still half-raised, as if she had completely forgotten what she was about to say. Her expression changed in real-time—an initial blink of surprise, then an irritated press of her lips. Her eyes narrowed like she had just seen something she absolutely did not like.
"Oh, fuck no."
She set her glass down as if it had suddenly gained weight. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up—her legs moving forward on their own, long before Evin even registered what was happening.
"What—?" Evin asked, confused.
But before the question had even fully left her mouth, a voice rang out near the entrance, cutting through the room’s chatter.
"Milka, Bellamy’s outside. Maybe you should check on him."
Milka stiffened for the briefest second—barely noticeable, but Evin caught it. A subtle twitch in her brow. A breath that didn’t go in quite deep enough.
“Babe, I’ll be right back. Give me a sec.”
She rolled her eyes, her expression somewhere between reluctant and annoyed, muttering an exasperated"Idiot"before vanishing into the crowd without another word.
"Okay, guess I’ll go to the bathroom in the meantime."
But Milka was already gone, too far away to hear her.
Evin exhaled and let her gaze drift around the room.
The junior banquet was exactly what she had expected.
This wasn’t a real prom with over-the-top romance and staged pictures in front of artificial flower walls. It was a strange in-between event—somewhere between teenage ease and the looming weight of adulthood. Chandeliers cast a warm glow over the room, the tables dressed in crisp white linens, the guests in expensive gowns and tailored suits. There were pricey drinks for the parents, who officially remained oblivious to the fact that their kids were sneaking shots from flasks in the bathroom.
It was the kind of night where everyone liked to pretend that something would change. That in a year, they would return as different people, stepping into a new world.
Evin wondered if that was true.
Probably not. Most of them would stay exactly the same. Some would lose themselves in college, in new lives, in new circles—but they wouldn’t stop making the same mistakes.
And then there was her.
The one who had already changed.
She let her eyes wander across the dance floor, past groups of students leaning back at their tables, girls who had already kicked off their heels, parents and teachers standing in small clusters, a mix of weary indulgence and nostalgic longing in their eyes.
Her gaze briefly landed on Bas’ group—still at the edge of the dance floor, a handful of guys, a handful of girls.
But Bas wasn’t there.
And neither was Cat.
What a coincidence.Evin rolled her eyes.
They were probably long gone.
She pushed the feeling away, forced herself to bury the thought.It didn’t matter.
She didn’t choose the large banquet hall bathroom—too crowded, too loud, too many mirrors.
Instead, she took the narrow hallway leading to the classrooms.
A place where no one ever went.
Where it was clean. And, more importantly, quiet.
