The days that followed our coffee meet-up were a blur of textbooks, notes, and late-night cramming. Finals were looming, and the pressure was on. Everyone around seemed to be living on caffeine and stress, and I wasn't an exception. Even Chris and Evan had gotten serious, organizing study groups and forcing themselves to stay in the library longer than usual.
But no matter how hard I tried to concentrate, my thoughts kept drifting back to Scarlet. I'd catch myself zoning out during study sessions, replaying her laugh, the way she had looked at me during prom, and that kiss. I'd wonder if she was thinking about it too—or if she'd already brushed it off as a spur-of-the-moment thing.
One evening, while highlighting my notes on biomechanics, I realized my phone screen was still open to our last conversation—a simple "Good luck with your exams" text from Scarlet. I wanted to reply with something witty or meaningful, but everything felt forced. I settled for a quick "You too" and tossed my phone onto the bed.
As I leaned back, rubbing my temples, I couldn't help but wonder what she was doing. Was she struggling to focus too? Did she feel the same tension that seemed to coil around me every time I thought about her?
Across campus, Scarlet was having a similar dilemma. Her room was littered with open textbooks, half-filled notebooks, and discarded coffee cups. She'd been trying to focus on her chemistry notes for hours, but Max's face kept popping into her thoughts. She remembered how close they had gotten, how he'd confessed he couldn't stop thinking about her.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she flipped to another page. Her roommate glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "You okay?"
Scarlet forced a smile. "Yeah, just... tired."
"You've been staring at that same page for ten minutes."
Scarlet glanced down and realized it was true. She hadn't taken in a single word. "I guess I'm just distracted."
Her roommate gave her a knowing look. "Let me guess—Max?"
Scarlet blushed. "Maybe."
"Just talk to him already. You're both so obviously into each other."
Scarlet bit her lip. "It's not that simple. I don't want to rush things. What if it ruins what we have?"
"Or it could make it better."
That thought stayed with Scarlet as the days passed. They both wanted to reach out, but something held them back—fear of crossing that line and not being able to go back.
One evening, as I was leaving the library, I saw her from a distance. She was walking with a few friends, laughing at something one of them had said. I paused, half-tempted to call out to her. Just seeing her smile made my chest feel lighter, like the pressure of exams wasn't so suffocating anymore.
But before I could make a decision, she glanced in my direction and caught my gaze. A soft, almost shy smile graced her lips, and she gave a small wave. I waved back, hesitating for a second. I wanted to walk over, but something stopped me. Maybe it was the way her friends surrounded her or the fear that I might say something stupid.
Scarlet hesitated too, as if debating whether to break away from her group. In the end, she kept walking, glancing over her shoulder once more before disappearing around the corner.
As I made my way back to my dorm, I couldn't help but replay that fleeting moment. Just a glance, just a wave, and yet it stirred something inside me.
Maybe after finals, when our heads weren't so filled with facts and stress, we could finally talk about what was growing between us. Until then, I just had to focus on surviving the week and hope that whatever was between us wouldn't fade.