KASAM

The crackling of the bonfire sent sparks dancing into the night sky, a mesmerizing counterpoint to the throbbing bass of the music that pulsed through the air. I found myself drawn to its warmth, lingering alone on the periphery of the revelry. From my vantage point, I could see Aiden, his face lit by the flickering flames, laughing uproariously with Zach. I couldn't hear what was said, but the sheer joy radiating from him was undeniable.

Seeing him like that, so carefree and content, brought a flood of memories. I remembered our first encounter, a chance meeting in the hushed corridors of the school. I was Raisha then, a scholarship student navigating the unfamiliar terrain of this elite institution.

I was hurrying to my next class, my textbooks clutched tightly to my chest, when he appeared in my peripheral vision.

Aiden, with his tousled hair and a mischievous glint in his eyes, leaned against the lockers, a casual air about him that seemed to defy the strict school rules.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. "You're Raisha, right? The new scholarship student?"

I nodded, startled by his sudden appearance and the intensity of his gaze.

"I'm Aiden," he introduced himself, extending a hand. "I've heard a lot about you."

His handshake was firm, his grip surprisingly strong. I felt a strange flutter in my stomach, a reaction I quickly dismissed as nerves. He had an undeniable charisma, an aura of effortless cool that seemed to draw everyone towards him.

"I'm having a bit of trouble with this history chapter," he continued, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability. "Mind if I join you? Maybe we can figure it out together."

Hesitantly, I'd agreed.

Initially, our study sessions were innocent enough. He would feign confusion, peppering me with questions, subtly guiding our discussions towards his areas of weakness. "I don't understand this part," he'd say, pointing to a paragraph in the textbook. "Could you explain it again?"

I, eager to excel and prove myself worthy of my scholarship, found myself drawn to his disarming smile and the challenge of helping him understand.

But soon, the line between helping and cheating began to blur. His requests grew more demanding. Subtle signals during exams, furtive glances towards my paper, his dependence on me increasing with each passing day. "I'm really struggling with this," he'd whisper, his eyes pleading.

I, initially hesitant, found myself succumbing to the pressure. The guilt gnawed at me, but the desire to please him, to maintain his approval, clouded my judgment.

The inevitable happened. Caught red-handed by Ms Inge, my Math teacher back then. My scholarship, my lifeline, hung precariously in the balance. Ms Inge's eyes held a mixture of disappointment and concern, offered a single chance at redemption: a retest with a completely different set of questions.

Aiden, facing the same retest, crumbled. Without my support, his academic facade shattered. He failed miserably, his arrogance replaced by a sullen resentment.

I, meanwhile, poured all my energy into the retest, fueled by a desperate need to salvage my scholarship and redeem myself.

I passed with flying colors. But the victory tasted hollow.

During lunch, Aiden approached me, his face contorted in fury. "You bitch," he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "You snitched on me!"

His friends, Zach and Rayyan, echoed his sentiment, hurling insults my way. Kafka, who had always been an observer, stood frozen, his gaze fixed on me with an unsettling intensity.

I knew then that I will face a difficult time ahead.