đ CABIN 12 â LATE NIGHT
Rain tapped softly against the cabin windows.
The campfire had ended hours ago.
Most people were asleep by now.
But Andrea wasn't.
She sat against the wall on the bed, knees pulled up slightly, phone glowing faintly in the darkness.
Tom was in the tiny bathroom brushing his teeth, music humming quietly from inside.
Andrea scrolled absently.
One video.
Then another.
Thenâ
A familiar logo flashed across her screen.
Cobra Kai.
A new reel.
The caption read:
"Strike first. Strike hard."
Andrea pressed play.
The video opened with a loud beat drop and shaky dojo footage.
Boys training.
Punches.
Sweat.
Aggression.
Thenâ
Him.
Hawk Moskowitz.
Bright mohawk. Sharp grin. Pure chaos.
The reel cut between clips of Hawk sparring and Miguel Diaz training beside him.
Fast movements.
Hard hits.
Confidence.
Power.
Andrea stared harder than she meant to.
Then another post appeared.
A mirror selfie from Hawk.
Bruised knuckles.
Cocky smirk.
Caption:
"Pain means you're getting stronger."
Andrea scoffed quietly.
"Insane," she muttered.
But she didn't scroll away.
Something about him feltâŠ
Free.
Not soft. Not careful.
Like someone who stopped being afraid a long time ago.
The bathroom door opened.
Andrea locked her phone immediately.
Too late.
Tom noticed.
"Secret boyfriend?" he asked casually, drying his hands with a towel.
Andrea rolled her eyes.
"Please."
Tom dropped onto the bed beside her.
Not too close.
Still too close.
"What were you watching?"
"Nothing."
"That looked like something."
Andrea hesitated.
Thenâ
"A karate thing."
Tom blinked once.
"âŠA what?"
"A dojo," she said. "Whatever."
Tom laughed immediately.
"You watch karate videos?"
"I couldn't sleep."
"That's somehow worse."
Andrea shoved his shoulder lightly before she could stop herself.
"Shut up."
Tom looked down at where her hand touched him briefly.
Then back at her.
A pause.
Dangerously quiet.
"You smile more at your phone than at actual people," he murmured.
Andrea pulled her hand back instantly.
"I wasn't smiling."
"You were."
"No, I wasn't."
"You literally were."
Andrea looked away.
Annoyed.
Mostly because he was right.
Tom leaned back against the wall beside her.
"What's so interesting about it?"
Andrea stared at the dark screen of her phone for a second.
"I don't know," she admitted quietly.
Tom waited.
And weirdlyâ
She kept talking.
"They lookâŠ" she paused. "Confident."
"Hm."
"Like they know exactly who they are."
Tom studied her expression carefully now.
"And you don't?"
Andrea immediately shut down again.
"That's not what I said."
"But it's what you meant."
Silence.
Rain against glass.
Breathing.
Too close.
Thenâ
Tom gently nudged her shoulder.
"For the record," he said softly, "you look confident too."
Andrea laughed quietly under her breath.
Not because it was funny.
Because he had no idea.
"No," she whispered.
"I really don't."
And for onceâ
Tom didn't joke.
Didn't flirt.
Didn't smirk.
He just looked at her.
Like he was seeing something fragile she didn't want anyone to notice.
Later that night, after Tom finally fell asleepâ
Andrea unlocked her phone again.
The same selfie of Hawk stared back at her.
Bruised knuckles.
Fearless eyes.
Pain means you're getting stronger.
Andrea looked over at Tom sleeping beside her.
Then back at the screen.
Something twisted quietly inside her chest.
Not love.
Not hope.
Something darker.
Something restless.
And she didn't know it yetâ
But Atlanta was already waiting for her.