My alarm screamed into the silence, and Amelia's groggy voice followed immediately. "Turn that thing off, Alexis."
Amelia—my roommate, my best friend, and, frankly, the only person I talked to on campus—was not a morning person. She moved into the dorm after I did, and at first, she drove me crazy. But like most of the chaos in life, I eventually adjusted.
It was the weekend, so we had no classes. Still, I had plans: the library, my test prep, and three hours of uninterrupted study. We had only just wrapped up Term I, but I liked staying ahead. Pressure, after all, has a way of creeping in at the worst times.
Amelia, on the other hand, had far less ambitious goals—namely, sleeping in till noon. By the time she stirred, I'd already be halfway through my second study block.
I got ready, grabbed my bag, and headed out, stopping by the campus café for my mandatory black coffee. Sleep or no sleep, caffeine was a necessity. At the library counter, as expected, stood Ethan.
Of course, Ethan.
We'd been paired for a psychology project once, and since then, he'd decided we were friends. He had this annoying habit of sharing way too much about himself—his parents, his exes, his thoughts about life—with the kind of ease only extroverts seem to possess. I didn't love his company, but I couldn't say I hated it either. Sometimes, he even helped me focus, distracted me just enough to stop overthinking.
"Black coffee? Seriously? That's basically self-torture." He wrinkled his nose and plopped into the seat next to me, his drink a sugar-laden caramel mocha.
"And what you're drinking is basically diabetes in a cup," I shot back.
"It's called flavour, Alexis. Look it up."
"Sure," I replied flatly.
He rolled his eyes and scrolled through his phone.
Then, as if it had just occurred to him: "Didn't we just finish Term I? Why are you already studying again?"
"Because I like staying ahead."
"Miss Overachiever," he muttered, shaking his head.
We sat in silence, until, inevitably, he spoke again. "Wanna hang out today?"I glanced at him. "Why would I want to hang out with you?"
"Because you have no other friends?" he said, sipping his mocha like he hadn't just insulted me.
"Excuse me?"
"It's true. You only talk to Amelia."
"I just don't like to surround myself with idiots," I snapped. And okay, maybe that hit a little too close to the truth.
Speaking of Amelia—was she even awake yet?
I pulled out my phone and called her. It was past noon. "Hey, get up. Change. I'm swinging by the dorm to grab some things. Let's have lunch together."
"Sure, I'm getting up now," she mumbled.
"Did you even hear what I asked earlier?" Ethan said, clearly not giving up.
"I have plans," I replied while packing my books. "Lunch with Amelia."
"You just made those plans after I asked you. Isn't that morally wrong or something?"
"At least I have plans now, don't I?"
"Oh, come on! Just hang out with me, please?"
"Why are you so desperate? Did your friends ditch you?"
"No! I just—I don't know. I thought we could talk."
I sighed. "Fine. If you want to join me and Amelia, go ahead. But I'm not ditching her."
He practically sprinted behind the counter to grab his things.
Back at the dorm, Amelia was doing battle with her shoes.
"Did your feet grow overnight?" I asked, watching her wrestle a sneaker.
"I swear these fit yesterday."
Eventually, she got it together. When we stepped outside, Ethan was still waiting.
"You took forever," he said.
"There was a situation," I replied vaguely, and we started walking.
Amelia tugged on my sleeve. "Why is he coming with us?"
"He asked to have lunch."
"With you?! Alexis!" She hissed the words like they were scandalous.
"What?"
"He was asking you out! And you invited me? You absolute brick!"
"I didn't realize this was a covert romance mission. I thought it was lunch."
Amelia smacked my arm. "He likes you, you dumbass."
"He does not. He just pities me because I don't have friends."
"No one asks someone out of pity. That's not how this works."
"It's not a date. End of discussion."
"Fine," she huffed. "But I'm telling you—you're going to end up dating that boy."
I rolled my eyes and we headed into the cafeteria.
---
After lunch, I went back to the library. Ethan followed. Again.
"Why do you study so much?" he asked, trailing behind me.
"Because life doesn't reward slackers."
"You need to enjoy your twenties, Alexis. You won't get them back."
That phrase always made me uneasy—enjoy your life. Like it was that simple. Like hard work now wouldn't matter later.
I said nothing and returned to my notes. He scrolled on his phone in silence.
"Do you have social media?" he asked after a while.
"Why?"
"Just curious."
"I'm on Instagram. Snap. Hellotalk. LinkedIn."
"Hellotalk?"
"It's for language exchange. You talk to people who are native speakers of the language you're learning."
"So... educational?"
"Mostly."
"Alright, so what's your Instagram handle?"
I looked at him. "We're not that close."
"You're kidding."
"I'm not."
He pouted again. Eventually, I relented and typed it into his phone. His face shifted from smug to genuinely surprised as he scrolled through my posts.
"You write poetry?"
"You never asked."
"Well, I'm impressed," he said quietly.
I blinked. "Thanks."
He got up. "I'll leave you to your study grind. I'm off to scroll through your entire feed like a mildly creepy stalker."
"At least you're honest about it."
He grinned and left.
---
Later that evening, I walked alone in the park on campus. It's the one place where I can breathe—just me, the trees, and silence.
Then my phone rang.
Dad.
My heart sank. He never calls. Ever.
"Hello?" I said, bracing myself.
There was silence.
"Hello?" I repeated.
"It's me," he said finally. "Your mother and I need to talk to you. In person."
"What is this about?"
"It's not something we can explain over the phone."
The call was brief, clipped, and heavy with unsaid things. As soon as it ended, my mind spiraled—What was so important? Were they okay? Did something happen?
I stared at the screen long after the call ended, feeling like I was standing at the edge of something I couldn't yet see.