Claire started finding excuses.
They were small at first. Easy to justify.
Evan's busy.
I'm already on campus.
It's just coffee.
She didn't think of it as seeking Mila out. She thought of it as convenience. Familiarity. Comfort. Mila was easy to talk to. She listened. She didn't interrupt. She laughed at the right moments and asked questions that made Claire feel interesting in a way she wasn't used to noticing.
It was harmless.
That's what Claire told herself as she spotted Mila outside the science building and felt a quiet lift in her chest.
"Mila," she called, waving.
Mila turned, surprise flickering across her face before it softened into a smile. "Hey."
"Heading somewhere?" Claire asked, falling into step beside her.
"Dorm," Mila said. "I was just—"
"Mind if I walk with you?"
The question came out before Claire had thought it through.
Mila hesitated, just for a heartbeat. "Yeah. That's fine."
They walked together, the late afternoon sun warm against their backs. Students passed them in clusters, laughter and noise filling the air, but Claire felt oddly removed from it all, like her attention had narrowed to the space beside her.
"You've been quiet lately," Claire said.
Mila glanced at her. "Have I?"
"A little," Claire said. "Did I do something?"
The question surprised both of them.
Mila stopped walking.
"No," she said quickly. "No, you didn't. I just—have a lot on my mind."
Claire nodded, accepting the answer even though something in her didn't quite settle. "If you ever want to talk… you know."
Mila's fingers curled around the strap of her bag. "I know."
They reached the dorm entrance. This was usually where they parted. Where Claire would wave and turn away.
Instead, she lingered.
"Well," she said, rocking back on her heels, "I guess I'll see you around."
"Yeah," Mila said softly.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Claire became aware of how close they were standing. Of the way Mila's gaze dropped to her mouth before snapping back up again. Of the strange, charged stillness between them.
Claire laughed, a little breathless. "Wow. I'm making this awkward."
"You're not," Mila said. "I just—"
She stopped herself.
Claire tilted her head. "Just what?"
Mila looked away. "Nothing."
The word felt heavy. Like a door closing.
Claire felt it then. Not understanding—just a flicker of something sharp and uncomfortable. A sense that she'd stepped too close to something she didn't have language for.
"Okay," she said, gentler now. "I'll let you go."
Mila nodded, relief and disappointment warring in her eyes. "Goodnight, Claire."
"Night."
Claire watched her disappear inside before finally turning away.
As she walked back across campus, she tried to shake the feeling clinging to her skin. The awareness. The closeness. The way her name had sounded in Mila's voice.
It was nothing, she told herself.
Just kindness. Just friendliness.
But later that night, lying in bed, Claire found herself replaying the moment over and over—the pause, the look, the almost-something that had hung between them.
And for the first time, the thought crossed her mind uninvited and unsettling:
What if this isn't nothing?