Year 3 - Always Together

JAY-JAY POV

Junior year was supposed to scatter us. Everyone said internships and deadlines would pull us apart. But instead, we clung.

Everywhere I went, Keifer was there. Everywhere he went, I followed. We weren't perfect, but we were constant.

The Festival

The quad didn't look like the quad anymore. By day it was just grass and cracked sidewalks, a place where students rushed between classes. But tonight it was transformed.

String lights crisscrossed overhead, glowing like constellations. Food stalls lined the paths, each one shouting for attention with sizzling grills and neon signs. The air was thick with cinnamon, fried dough, and roasted corn, so rich it made my stomach growl. Music pulsed from the stage at the far end, a mix of bass and laughter that made the ground vibrate.

I tugged Keifer's sleeve. "Fried dough. Now."

He raised an eyebrow, hoodie half‑zipped, hands shoved in his pockets. "You're going to regret this."

"Worth it," I said, already dragging him toward the booth.

The line was long, but I didn't care. I bounced on my toes, craning my neck to see the fryer. Keifer stood behind me, patient, smirking, the kind of smirk that said he was already planning to tease me when I inevitably spilled powdered sugar on myself.

"Why do you look like you're about to run a marathon?" he asked.

"Because fried dough is serious business."

He chuckled. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're boring."

He leaned down, voice low. "You're glowing."

I rolled my eyes. "It's the sugar."

He shook his head. "It's you."

I didn't answer. Just smiled, small and secret, like I didn't want him to see it.

When we finally got the fried dough, it was hot enough to burn my fingers through the paper plate. I bit into it anyway, powdered sugar dusting my lips, my fingers, even my hair.

"See?" I said, mouth full. "Worth it."

Keifer laughed. "You look like a crime scene."

I shoved the dough at him. "Eat."

He took a bite, pretending to grimace. "Terrible."

I gasped. "You're lying."

He grinned. "Obviously."

I tried to swat him with the plate, but he ducked, smirking. Powdered sugar flew everywhere, landing on his hoodie.

"Now you're the crime scene," I said triumphantly.

He brushed at his chest, leaving streaks of sugar. "You're impossible."

"And you love me anyway."

He sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately."

I laughed so hard I nearly dropped the dough. He caught my wrist, steadying me, his fingers warm against mine.

For a moment, the noise of the festival faded. It was just us, sticky fingers and laughter, sugar clinging to our clothes.

Lanterns and Futures

We found a spot on the grass, away from the crowd. Lanterns floated upward, glowing like tiny suns against the dark sky. Students danced nearby, their shadows flickering against the buildings.

I leaned back, fried dough balanced precariously on my lap. "Do you ever think about next year?"

Keifer blinked. "Next year?"

"Senior year. Graduation. The future."

He leaned back, staring at the lanterns. "Sometimes."

"And?"

He shrugged. "We figure it out."

I frowned. "That's not an answer."

He smiled. "It's the only one I've got."

I wanted to argue, to demand certainty. But the way he said it — simple, certain — made me pause. The festival noise blurred, and all I could hear was the steady beat of my own heart.

Section E Arrives

"Jay!" someone shouted.

I turned, startled, just as Ci‑N appeared out of nowhere, Mayo trailing behind him with a skewer of grilled meat, David close behind, and then — like a wave crashing — the rest of Section E spilled into the festival.

My eyes widened. "You guys are here!"

Drew was the first to speak, his voice carrying over the music. "Oh my god, Keifer, what happened?"

Keifer smirked, leaning back on his elbows. "Ask this beautiful girl right here."

I groaned, swatting his arm. "Forget that. You guys are here!" My excitement bubbled over, louder than the music, louder than the chatter.

Mayo bounced on his toes, nearly dropping his food. "We weren't going to miss this! Free food, loud music, and watching you two act disgustingly in love? It's the highlight of the semester."

Ci‑N rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping. "Yeah, highlight. Watching Jay inhale fried dough like it's oxygen."

David, ever the gentle one, smiled softly. "We thought you'd want company." His words were simple, but the warmth in them made my chest ache.

Drew flopped onto the grass beside us, nearly knocking over my plate. "So, Keifer, when did you become the romantic hero? Last I checked, you were allergic to festivals."

Keifer smirked. "Guess I found a reason."

Ci‑N groaned. "Gross. Someone get me earplugs."

Mayo grinned, waving his skewer. "Nah, let him talk. It's like watching a cheesy drama unfold live."

I laughed, leaning into Keifer. "You guys are impossible."

David's voice cut through, gentle but firm. "No, we're family."

And just like that, the noise of the festival blended with the noise of Section E — teasing, laughter, chaos.

The Bracelet

Later, when the crowd thinned and the music softened, we walked through the stalls again. The air smelled of grilled corn and cinnamon. The lights flickered like stars.

Keifer bought me a bracelet from a vendor, cheap and flimsy, but beautiful in its own way.

"Souvenir," he said.

I slipped it on, smiling. "You're ridiculous."

He shrugged. "Maybe. But you'll remember tonight."

I fiddled with the bracelet as we walked, bumping his shoulder, laughing when he pretended to stumble.

We passed a group of professors near the cider stand, their voices carrying over the crowd.

"...students these days, no sleep schedules..." "...but look at them, they're happy..."

I smiled, squeezing Keifer's hand. Because they were right. We were happy.

Closing Beat

We ended the night sitting on the steps of the library, fried dough long gone, bracelet glinting in the light.

I leaned against him, tired but happy. He wrapped his arm around me, hoodie warm against my cheek.

"See?" he whispered. "Worth it."

And I believed him.

End of Year 3

Junior year wasn't about distance. It wasn't about pressure. It was about closeness.

We were always together. At festivals. In laughter. In chaos. In silence.

We weren't perfect. But we were real. And we were us.

And maybe that was enough.