By morning, Emily's name was everywhere — and she hadn't even done anything.
Walking through campus felt like walking on a stage she didn't audition for. Heads turned, whispers followed.
"That's her," someone muttered as she passed the library.
"Who?"
"The girl who had ice cream with Ethan Monaco."
Emily pretended not to hear, clutching her books like a shield. She couldn't believe people actually cared about that. It was ice cream. Not a marriage proposal.
In class, she caught two girls sitting in front of her texting under the desk. One typed She's so plain… what's his deal? The other replied with a laughing emoji.
Emily rolled her eyes. Lord, give me patience, she prayed silently, flipping her notebook open.
At lunch, she sat in a quiet corner, trying to eat in peace. But just as she was halfway through her sandwich, a shadow fell over her table.
She looked up — and there he was. Ethan.
Her breath hitched. "Uh… hi?"
He didn't sit. He simply placed a coffee cup on the table in front of her. "You looked tired."
Emily blinked. "I don't drink coffee."
He tilted his head, amused. "Then consider it a gesture. And before you ask — no, I'm not here to steal your sandwich."
She didn't have time to respond because, from the corner of her eye, she could see half the cafeteria watching them like it was breaking news.
Ethan glanced around lazily, clearly aware of the attention, then leaned in just enough for her to catch the low rumble of his voice.
"I told you I'd see you around, flower."
And just like that, he walked away, leaving her with a coffee she didn't want and about fifty pairs of eyes burning holes in her back.
Emily sighed and took a bite of her sandwich. "Great. Now they'll probably think I'm engaged."
Do you want me to go ahead with that?