When Your Name Found Mine
Chapter Eight — The First Day After
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the rain was gone. The sky outside my dorm window was pale blue, streaked with early sunlight, the kind that made everything look like it had been rinsed clean.
The second thing I noticed was that I couldn't stop smiling.
---
Classes felt different that morning. Not because the lecture was suddenly more interesting — it was still Dr. Harrison talking about the French Revolution like it was the latest blockbuster — but because Dave was there.
He didn't sit in his usual seat two rows ahead. He sat next to me.
It wasn't a big deal. People sit next to each other all the time. But every time his knee brushed mine under the desk, my mind flashed back to the library, the kiss, the way his hand had felt against my face.
When I glanced sideways, he was taking notes like nothing was unusual. Except for the tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
---
After class, we spilled out into the courtyard. Students clustered in little groups, the air buzzing with that Friday-morning energy that made everyone forget they had deadlines.
"So," Dave said, sliding his hands into his jacket pockets. "I was thinking… coffee?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Is this going to be our thing now? Coffee every time we see each other?"
"I don't know," he said. "Do you want it to be?"
I pretended to think about it, even though I already knew the answer. "Depends on who's paying."
He grinned. "I'll take that as a yes."
---
We ended up at the small campus café tucked behind the student center, the one most people forgot existed. It smelled faintly of cinnamon and burnt espresso. We found a corner table by the window, where the sunlight made the dust in the air look like glitter.
We talked — about the film club screening that night, about how he once got locked out of his dorm in pajama pants, about how I used to skip lectures in high school to sit in the library.
Somewhere between laughing at his pajama story and sharing a blueberry muffin, I realized something: I didn't feel nervous anymore.
Being with him felt… easy.
---
Of course, nothing on campus ever stays private for long.
It started with Jenna, my roommate, who spotted us walking back together after coffee. She didn't even wait for the door to close before grinning like she'd just won a bet.
"Oh my God," she said, dropping her tote bag onto her bed. "You and Dave?"
I opened my mouth to deny it, but the look on her face told me it was pointless.
"What?" I said, trying for casual. "We had coffee."
She raised an eyebrow. "Sure. And I only watch Netflix for the documentaries."
---
By the afternoon, I caught two girls from my literature seminar giving me the kind of sidelong glances that meant people were already talking.
Part of me didn't mind. Another part — the one that hated being the center of attention — felt the creeping discomfort of everyone watching.
When I met Dave outside the library that evening, I told him.
He winced. "That's… fast. I figured we had at least a week before the gossip machine kicked in."
"Campus life," I said with a shrug. "News travels faster than Wi-Fi."
He laughed, but I could tell he was thinking about it too.
---
We went to the film club screening anyway. It was some black-and-white classic with too many dramatic pauses, but the student theater was warm and the seats were old and comfortable.
Halfway through, his hand found mine. Not like he was making a statement — just like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And for a while, I forgot about the whispers and the stares.
---
It wasn't until we left the theater that the first real complication hit.
We were walking toward the dorms when a voice called out, sharp and too familiar.
"Evelyn?"
I turned.
It was Ryan.
Ryan from freshman orientation. Ryan who'd once asked me out, and I'd said no because I didn't feel that way. Ryan who'd apparently decided that "no" was a temporary condition.
He glanced at our joined hands, then at Dave, then back at me. "So… you two are a thing now?"
I opened my mouth, but Dave spoke first. "Yeah," he said, steady and calm.
Ryan gave a short laugh — the kind that wasn't amused. "Guess you move fast when you want to."
The words stung more than I expected.
Dave's jaw tightened, but he didn't rise to it. "Come on," he murmured to me, steering us away.
---
When we reached my dorm, I stopped at the entrance. "I'm sorry," I said.
"For what?"
"For… that." I waved vaguely toward the path we'd come from.
He shook his head. "Not your fault. People are going to have opinions. I'm fine with that, as long as you are."
I thought about it. About the letter, the kiss, the coffee, the way his hand fit around mine like it belonged there.
"I am," I said.
---
That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the radiator. Campus felt different now. Not just because of Dave, but because being with him meant stepping into a kind of spotlight I'd never wanted.
But when I closed my eyes, all I could think about was the way he'd looked at me this morning in class, like we had a secret no one else could touch.
And somehow, that made it worth it.