By the third day, Emily had learned two things about college life: one, the cafeteria always smelled faintly of burnt toast; and two, no one could talk about Ethan Monaco without lowering their voice like they were discussing a ghost story.
It started in her dorm room. Her roommates were sprawled across their beds, scrolling through their phones. Emily was at her desk, pretending to be very invested in highlighting Bible verses.
"You seriously don't know who he is?" one of them asked, suddenly looking up.
Emily hesitated. "I… didn't, until everyone started saying his name like it's a spell."
The girl across from her sat up. "He's… different. Came from Italy last semester. No one knows why he picked this college — it's not like he needs to be here."
"Some say his family's in… business," another chimed in, choosing her words carefully. "The kind of business where people disappear."
Emily froze mid-highlight. "Disappear?"
"Not here," the first girl rushed to add. "But… you know. Abroad. My cousin's friend's roommate swears she saw him talking to a guy in a black car one night, and the next day, that guy was gone."
The third roommate snorted. "That's just gossip. The truth is, no girl gets close to him. He doesn't date, doesn't flirt — well, until…" She gave Emily a look that was way too knowing
Emily raised her hands. "No. Absolutely not. We just— it was ice cream."
"Mmhmm," they all chorused, clearly unconvinced.
Emily decided she'd had enough and grabbed her tote bag. "I'm going to the library."
The air outside was cooler, calming. But halfway there, she spotted him — leaning against a lamppost like he had all the time in the world.
Her first instinct was to walk the other way. Her second was… to stop when his gaze found hers.
Ethan straightened, that same half-smile playing at his lips. "Miss me, angel?"
And just like that, all the rumors and warnings tangled in her head, battling against the fact that she couldn't seem to look away from him.