The bonfire crackled warmly against the cool evening air, sending sparks dancing into the night sky like tiny stars. Students sprawled on logs and blankets around the fire pit, the resort’s luxury grounds glowing softly in the background. Music played from someone’s portable speaker a mix of acoustic covers and upbeat pop that made the atmosphere feel light and carefree. For the first time in weeks, I let myself breathe.
I sat on a thick log between Mia and Zara, a stick with a perfectly toasted marshmallow in my hand. The sweet, gooey treat melted on my tongue as I laughed at Zara’s latest story.
“So I’m in the middle of explaining my entire capstone idea to the advisor,” Zara said, waving her own marshmallow stick like a conductor’s baton, “and this guy next to me some business bro who
