Mila spent the rest of the afternoon pretending she was fine.
She walked back to her dorm with Evan, nodded at the right moments, laughed when he did. She let him talk about dinner plans, about how cool it was that his sister actually wanted to hang out with them, about how relieved he was that Claire seemed to like her.
She focused on the sound of his voice instead of the echo of Claire's laugh still ringing in her ears.
Inside her dorm room, Mila sat on her bed and stared at the wall for a long time after Evan left.
Her heart hadn't slowed down. If anything, it felt louder now—every beat a reminder of that moment, of that hand in hers, of the way Claire had looked at her like she was someone worth noticing.
This was stupid.
She had crushes before. She knew what they felt like—nervous excitement, a flutter in her stomach, the awkward hope that maybe, eventually, something might happen.
This wasn't that.
This was immediate and overwhelming and terrifyingly clear. Like stepping into cold water without warning. Like something inside her had recognized Claire before her mind could catch up.
Mila pressed her palms against her eyes.
Get a grip.
Claire was Evan's sister. Older. Confident. Straight—obviously straight. The kind of woman who dated men without thinking twice about it. The kind of woman who smiled at everyone the same way.
The smile wasn't for you, she told herself. None of it is.
She stood, paced the room, tried to focus on literally anything else. Her textbook lay open on the desk, unread since morning. Her phone buzzed with a message from her roommate asking when she'd be back.
Mila ignored it.
Instead, she replayed the moment over and over again—the way Claire's fingers had wrapped around hers, the warmth, the ease. How natural it had felt, like something she'd been missing without knowing it.
She hated how much that scared her.
By the time evening rolled around, Mila had built a careful wall around herself. She practiced neutrality in the mirror. Calm face. Normal smile. Nothing that could give her away.
Dinner was just dinner.
Claire would be there as Evan's sister. Mila would be there as Evan's friend. Nothing more.
When they met outside the dining hall, Claire waved at them from across the quad, her presence impossible to miss. She wore a faded sweatshirt and jeans, hands tucked into her pockets, relaxed in a way that made Mila's chest tighten all over again.
"You made it," Claire said, as if it mattered.
Mila nodded. "Yeah."
They walked together, Evan in the middle, talking too much to hide his nerves. Claire listened, occasionally teasing him, occasionally glancing at Mila to include her.
Each glance felt like a test Mila hadn't studied for.
At the table, Claire sat across from Mila. Close enough that their knees almost touched. Close enough that Mila became acutely aware of every small movement—Claire leaning forward, brushing her hair back, resting her chin in her hand while she listened.
"So," Claire said, looking directly at her now, "how are you liking campus so far?"
Mila hesitated. Then answered honestly. "It's… a lot. But good. I think."
Claire smiled, softer this time. "Yeah. That sounds about right."
Their eyes held for just a second too long.
Mila looked away first.
She told herself it was fine. That this would fade. That first impressions always felt bigger than they were.
But deep down, she already knew.
This wasn't something that would pass.
This was the kind of feeling that changed things.
And she was alone with it.