The cafeteria at lunch rush was a battlefield. Tables crammed, trays clattering, the smell of cheap fries and overcooked noodles filling the air. Jason and I managed to find a spot near the window, squeezed between a group of engineering majors arguing about math and a couple of art students sketching on napkins.
Jason bit into his sandwich like it was his last meal. "Man, this place feels like high school all over again. Cliques forming, everyone loud. Except you—you're still rocking the lone wolf vibe."
"Not by choice," I said, poking at my rice bowl.
Jason grinned. "Sure, sure. Or maybe you just like sitting back and observing your crush from the shadows."
I nearly choked. "Shut up. Keep your voice down."
But Jason wasn't wrong. My eyes had already drifted across the room, searching almost instinctively. And there she was—Emily, tray in hand, scanning the cafeteria for an open seat. She looked a little lost in the chaos, standing there while people jostled around her.
Jason noticed too. "Dude. This is it. Say something. Invite her over."
My stomach twisted. "What? No way."
"She's literally looking for a seat. Do you want Michael to swoop in instead?"
And just like that, the devil appeared. Michael walked into the cafeteria with his usual entourage of classmates laughing around him. He hadn't seen her yet, but it was only a matter of time.
Jason leaned in, whispering like a coach before the big play. "You've got ten seconds before Mr. Perfect shows up. Do it."
I wanted to disappear. But then Emily's eyes landed in our direction, and—by some miracle—she started walking toward our table.
My brain shut down. Jason kicked me under the table. "Say something, idiot."
"H-hey," I blurted out as she reached us. My voice cracked like broken speakers. Smooth. Very smooth.
Emily tilted her head slightly, amused. "Hey. Um… do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full."
I nodded too fast. "Yeah! I mean—no problem. Of course."
She sat across from me, setting her tray down gently. Up close, her presence felt even more overwhelming. Not in a flashy way—she wasn't trying to stand out. But there was this calm confidence about her, like she wasn't afraid of being seen.
Jason, of course, had no chill. "Finally, Jae makes a move," he said, grinning.
Emily raised an eyebrow, glancing between us. "Move?"
Heat rushed to my face. "He's joking. Ignore him."
She smiled faintly, not pressing further. Instead, she picked up her fork. "So… you're Jae, right? From Computer Science?"
She knew my name. She actually knew my name. My brain nearly exploded.
"Y-yeah," I stammered. "That's… me."
Jason cut in, ever the savior and saboteur. "And I'm Jason, the better-looking one."
Emily laughed softly, the sound disarming. "Nice to meet you, Jason."
The conversation was light after that—mostly Jason carrying it, asking about her major (Design), what classes she had, small things like that. I barely managed to string words together, but every time Emily looked directly at me, it felt like the whole room blurred out.
Halfway through, Michael finally spotted her. He waved from across the cafeteria, flashing that easy smile of his. Emily waved back politely, but she didn't move. She stayed. At our table. With me.
For the first time, I felt something strange—a flicker of victory, small but real.
When lunch ended and she stood to leave, Emily gave a little nod in my direction. "See you in class, Jae."
My name. Again.
I sat frozen long after she walked away, Jason smirking like he had just witnessed history.
"Well," he said, finishing his drink. "That's at least 20% progress. At this rate, you might actually confess before we graduate."
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. But deep down, I couldn't stop replaying her words in my head.
See you in class, Jae.
For someone like me, that was everything.