Their Wonder Years: Fall 98

Chapter 169: Explaining to Marisol

As the study session wrapped, Mia slipped her arm through Sarah’s, practically bouncing.

“I need to change before practice,” she said brightly. “Can we swing by your place?”

Sarah smiled, arching a brow. “You planning to wear something that’ll make our choreographer blush?”

Mia grinned like the cat who’d gotten the cream. “Obviously. I’ve got a reputation to build.”

They turned to Bharath, who was still reeling from the pink-top physics assault.

“We’ll see you at the Student Center?” Sarah asked innocently.

Bharath nodded stiffly, trying not to stare at the subtle sway of their hips as they exited. Once the door closed behind them, he exhaled hard, like he’d been holding his breath for the last hour.

He leaned against the wall outside the study room, chest heaving like he’d just finished a sprint. 

He hadn’t said yes. He hadn’t touched her. But inside, something cracked. And the worst part? Sarah and Marisol didn’t just allow it. They encouraged it. Like they were… preparing him.

But what if he wasn’t ready? What if he gave in and it changed everything-fractured the sacred thing they’d built?

The air had cooled slightly, and the buzz of campus life softened in the distance. Bharath was walking toward the fountain plaza when he spotted her. His first love.

Marisol.

Leaning against a lamppost like she owned the sunset. Her tank top was tucked loosely into her skirt, and her curls bounced gently in the evening breeze. The moment her eyes found him, they lit up - not with surprise, but relief. Like seeing him made everything in her day right again.

He didn’t wait. His steps quickened, and before she could say anything, his arms were around her, pulling her in with a hunger that had been quietly building.

Her laughter bubbled in his ear. “Well, hello to you too mi amor.”

“You smell like guava and sunshine,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I missed you too,” she whispered, her fingers lacing into his hair.

They kissed - slow at first, then deeper. Months of practiced restraint washed away in seconds. He backed her against the lamppost, one hand cupping her waist, the other gently gripping her jaw. She moaned softly into his mouth, kissing him back with years of longing compressed into minutes.

When they finally pulled apart, she was breathless.

“Dios mío,” she whispered. “What got into you?”

He looked slightly dazed. “You don’t even want to know.”

“Oh, I do,” she said, brushing his lip with her thumb. “Spill.”

Bharath groaned, stepping back and rubbing his temples. “It’s your sister and Sarah.”

Marisol froze, then narrowed her eyes. “Mia? What about her?”

“She tried to seduce me,” he said, deadly serious.

Marisol blinked.

Then covered her mouth with both hands, trying to keep a laugh from escaping.

“She came to the study session,” he continued, “wearing this-this baby-pink thing that defied structural physics. And Sarah-Sarah was helping.”

Marisol lost it. She snorted so hard she hiccuped. “Oh my God.”

“I’m serious,” he said, exasperated. “She kept bending over. Then Sarah stood behind her, like… like some kind of perverted tutor. I was trying to explain tension force, but I was the one under tension. And Mia said something about circular motion and - and she compared me to a gravitational center -”

“She what?” Marisol wheezed, clutching her stomach. “Oh no-oh nooo. I wish I had joined you guys.”

“She said being around me felt like being pulled into orbit. Like I was the sun or something!”

Marisol collapsed onto the bench behind her, full-on giggling now, her face flushed with amusement and secondhand mischief.

“I’m glad you’re laughing,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “It was torture. I broke a pencil. I had to leave the room to get water. I barely made it out alive.”

Marisol leaned back, smiling up at him, her laugh softening into something fonder. “Accept the inevitable baby. She belongs to you too...”

“Sarah and I see it,” Marisol continued gently. “The way she looks at you. The way you look at her when you think we aren’t watching. She’s already there. And honestly? So are you.”

“I didn’t plan this,” Bharath whispered.

“Neither did I,” Marisol said. “But love isn’t math. It’s not one equation. It’s a symphony. And sometimes a new voice just elevates the music.”

He stiffened. The way she said it-like it was inevitable-made something coil uncomfortably in his stomach.

Was it really okay? Did they truly not mind? How could they not mind? Sarah and Marisol were already sharing him. Each girl could have snapped their fingers and had men scrambling for their attention and yet they kept talking about sharing him further with Mia. How could he deserve so much? Surely the universe was playing some kind of long running prank on him. 

“You’re not hearing me. She ground her leg on mine under the table, Marisol,” Bharath whispered, scandalized. “I thought my soul was going to leave my body.”

Marisol smirked. “She does know how to weaponize her charms. Guess she thought you needed a reminder of how hot she is.”

“I don’t need a reminder. I need safety protocols.”

That made her laugh again. Then she stood and took his hands in hers, drawing him close. “Hey.”

He looked down at her.

“I know she’s gorgeous. And she’s definitely seducing you. But you’re still mine and Sarah’s. Adding Mia to us will not affect our love for you and your love for us.” Her voice softened, brows lifting. “Unless that’s changed?”

Bharath shook his head instantly. “No. Never. I love you both too much Marisol..”

She kissed him again, this time gentler, slower. “Good. Then let us worry about Mia.”

“Should I be worried?”

Marisol tilted her head. “A little. But not for the reasons you think.”

He gave her a long look, then narrowed his eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Maybe,” she said, kissing the tip of his nose. “Maybe we like watching you wrestle with it. And maybe we really like how much harder you love us after. Today morning was ah-mazing!”

He sighed into her hair. “I’m surrounded by evil geniuses.”

“Better than being surrounded by amateurs,” she whispered, tugging him close again. “Now kiss me and molest me properly before dance practice ruins your cardio.”

He kissed her, of course. Because kissing Marisol was like returning home. But deep down, he knew the real conversation wasn’t over.

Not with Mia. Not with Sarah.  

And definitely not with himself.