Seventeen times I'd opened Instagram that morning, each tap heavier than the last. That was it - time to get out of there before everything went quiet inside.
Three days now, Daniel hasn't touched my Friday post. Not one tap on.
"Endings and beginnings." Just empty space where his name should be. I kept checking. Refresh after refresh. Ninety-three likes piled up from others, yet nothing from him. His phone must work fine. That snapshot of him and Madison - her seated close, heads thrown back mid-laugh - sat at 287. Still rising.
Last time I checked, victory wasn't mine. Not even close.
Few students ever showed up at the coffee shop past the edge of campus. Safety had been assumed, since it sat far from university circles. A full twenty minutes on foot from the psychology building, moving away from dorms entirely. Most guests were locals - or folks already settled into regular routines.
