By evening, Chloe had already left again.
"Late meeting," she had said, grabbing her bag and rushing out like always.
I stayed behind a little longer than usual, sitting on my bed with my laptop open but not really doing anything on it.
Eventually, my stomach reminded me I hadn't eaten properly since morning.
With a quiet sigh, I changed into a hoodie, grabbed my wallet, and left the room.
The campus felt different at night.
Less loud, but still alive.
Groups were walking toward the dining hall, laughing and talking about their day. A few people sat on benches outside the buildings, studying under the glow of streetlights.
I kept my hands in my pockets and walked slowly, matching the flow of students heading in the same direction.
The dining hall was busy when I got there.
Too busy.
I hesitated at the entrance for a moment, scanning the crowd before stepping inside.
The smell of food, clinking trays, and overlapping conversations filled the space.
I grabbed a tray and joined the line.
That's when I saw him.
Ethan.
He was standing a few feet away near one of the tables, holding a drink and talking to two other guys. He looked relaxed—laughing at something one of them said, shoulders loose like he belonged there without trying.
For a second, I just stood still.
It had been two weeks since he moved out.
Two weeks since the room stopped being shared.
I didn't even know why I felt that small pause in my chest when I saw him.
Maybe because seeing someone familiar here still felt rare.
Without thinking, I lifted my hand slightly.
About to wave.
But before I could fully do it, Ethan shifted his gaze across the room.
Our eyes almost met.
Almost.
And then—
He looked away.
Not in a dramatic way.
Not like he was avoiding me.
Just… like he hadn't noticed me at all.
He turned back to the conversation and smiled at something the guy beside him said.
My hand slowly lowered.
I stood there for a second longer than I needed to.
Then I looked away too.
Right.
Of course.
It wasn't like we still talked.
We weren't roommates anymore.
We weren't anything, really.
Just people who had shared a room for a week.
I tightened my grip on my tray and moved forward in line, forcing myself not to look back again.
But even as I filled my plate and walked toward an empty table, my mind replayed the moment.
Not because it meant anything important.
But because for some reason…
it felt like being unseen again.
I sat down near the edge of the dining hall, away from most people, and stared down at my food.
The noise around me continued like nothing had happened.
I picked up my fork slowly.
Telling myself it didn't matter.
Even though, deep down, I couldn't explain why it did.