You made a rule after the breakup.
No eye contact.
No conversations.
No lingering.
If she’s around—you look away.
If she walks in—you leave.
And it’s been working.
Until today.
Because today—
She changed something you can’t ignore.
⸻
You’re walking across campus.
Head down.
Phone in your hand.
Focused on anything but your surroundings.
Then—
A flash of color.
You don’t mean to look.
You really don’t.
But it catches in your peripheral.
Bright.
Too bright.
You glance up.
Just for a second.
And immediately—
You wish you didn’t.
It’s her.
Leaning against the railing near the steps.
Talking to someone.
Laughing.
And her hair—
Red.
Not subtle.
Not small.
Her whole afro dyed deep, bold red.
Your steps slow.
Just slightly.
Your eyes flick back down.
Keep walking.
Keep it moving.
But your brain’s already stuck on it.
Red.
Why red.
Since when.
You pass her.
Close enough to hear her voice.
Close enough to hear her laugh again.
And before you can stop yourself—
You glance again.
This time—
She catches it.
Of course she does.
Her head turns slightly.
Eyes locking onto you immediately.
You look away fast.
Too fast.
Keep walking.
But—
“Don’t break your neck now.”
You stop.
Damn it.
Slowly—
You turn.
She’s already looking at you.
One eyebrow raised.
Arms crossed.
Red curls catching in the light.
You try to keep your face neutral.
“I wasn’t.”
“You was.”
“I wasn’t.”
She pushes off the railing.
Starts walking toward you.
“Second time you looked.”
You scoff quietly.
“You’re not that important.”
She stops in front of you.
Too close.
Grabs a near fist full of your hair and tugs you forward.
“You sure about that?”
You push her away slightly.
Trying not to look at her hair again.
Fails immediately.
“…Why is it red.”
The second it leaves your mouth—
You regret it.
Her lips twitch slightly.
“There it is.”
You roll your eyes.
“I was just asking.”
“Thought you wasn’t looking at me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You just asked about my hair.”
You pause.
“…It’s hard to miss.”
She hums.
“Yeah, I know.”
A small silence.
Then—
“You like it?”
Your eyes flick up to hers.
Then back to her hair.
Then away again.
“…It’s loud.”
She tilts her head.
“That’s not what I asked.”