They were always together. Always. It’s so easy to get sick of someone when you’re always with them. Fortunately for Miller and Clara, that hadn’t happened yet. Well—not that they had acknowledged.

Clara might get upset at one of Miller’s habits, the one of jingling his keys every time he came or went from the apartment. Miller could get annoyed at how Clara was always on the phone with her mom. But they never fought.

They stayed together. They loved each other.

They loved the quad, too. If it wasn’t too cold or too dark, they were there—eating, rehearsing, reading, talking. Spending time together. They pointed people out, watched their mannerisms and ways of speaking and the people they spent time with. The ones who listened to music, the ones who played sports. The couples.

It never changed. Miller, Clara, the strangers on the quad.

It wasn’t until November that something shifted. Miller felt it before he saw her—saw you. It was a chilly day, he felt warm. It was dark, you felt like the light. Clara was suddenly obsolete. She could feel the shift, too—the way that Miller went from completely focused on her to completely focused on you, on the bag on your back, on the ball under your arm, on the sunglasses perched on your head despite the lack of sunshine.

He started seeing you everywhere—the dining halls, passing periods, walks around campus, in his class.

Miller and Clara were broken up before Christmas, and he was sending flowers to your place that January.

“Oh, are those from your mystery man?” Marissa, your roommate teased, eyeing the flowers in the vase. “Do we even know his name?”

“No,” You said fondly, untying the ribbon that held the bouquet together. An envelope dropped onto the counter, and you picked it up, staring at the wax seal. Fancy.

“Maybe he’s rich,” Marissa echoed your thoughts, peeking over your shoulder. “Open it!”

You broke the seal and opened the envelope, pulling the paper out.

I saw you at the coffee shop on Fifth today. Even rain soaked you look beautiful.

-M.

“God, he’s so dreamy,” Marissa mumbled. “He doesn’t even want to take you out. He’s just admiring you.”