Page 20 of It's Only Ever Been You

When we finally pull apart, I glance up at him, catching his eyes before he looks away, his expression unreadable.

“So, how was orientation?” I ask, clearing my throat, trying to brush off the moment.

“Intense. They really drill into you about the program, expectations, all that stuff.” He shrugs, but there’s a light in his eyes—a spark of excitement I’ve only ever seen when he’s talking about football. “It’s different here, Em. Bigger. Like I finally get to see how far I can go, you know?”

I nod, smiling. “I’m really happy for you, Ethan. You deserve this. All of it.”

He glances at me, a softness in his eyes. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be here without you.”

We stand there for a moment, not saying anything. The night air is cool, but there’s this undeniablebuzz between us, the kind that makes my heart race for no reason. It’s the same feeling I’ve had for weeks now, something deeper, something I’ve actually felt for some time. But now, standing here with him, I can’t help but wonder if he feels it too, if all of this means as much to him as it does to me.

We wander around campus, talking about everything and nothing, letting the excitement and the newness wash over us. Ridgefield’s main quad stretches out in front of us, with the imposing clocktower in the distance and the soft glow of the dorm windows around us. The reality of college settles in, and the fact that this is our life now—that we’re here, together, on the same campus.

“So, any thoughts on our next steps?” he asks, nudging me as we walk.

I laugh. “Next steps? We just got here, Ethan.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know.” He shrugs, looking almost bashful. “Guess I just want to make the most of it, you know?”

I nod, my smile fading as I glance at him. “I know.”

He stops walking, turning to face me. “Promise me something?”

“What’s that?” I ask, curious.

“That no matter what happens, we stick together. This place is huge, and I don’t want to get lost in it withoutyou.”

My heart skips a beat. “Of course, Ethan. We’ve got each other. Always.”

He smiles, and for a moment, the world narrows down to just us, two best friends ready to take on everything Ridgefield throws our way.

And as I look up at him, I realize that maybe this is only the beginning of something even bigger than we imagined.

The next few days pass in a blur of classes and endless amounts of homework. I find myself slipping into the rhythm of college life, but it’s strange without the comfort of our hometown, the familiar places that made up our world. Still, having Ethan here, meeting him for lunch, spotting him around campus—makes it all a little easier.

One evening, I’m sitting in my dorm, attempting to tackle an endless reading list, when there’s a knock on my door. My roommate, Sarah, looks up from her desk, giving me a questioning look, but I wave her off and open the door to find Ethan leaning against the doorframe, grinning.

“You’re not doing anything important, are you?” he asks, glancing at my stack of textbooks.

“Only the basics of Comparative Literature,” I say, crossing my arms and feigning annoyance. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving you from a night of boredom.” He holds up a plastic bag. “Thought we could take a break, getsome snacks, and explore the campus a little. Or would you rather stay in and read about ancient philosophy?”

I hesitate, glancing back at my pile of reading, then back at his hopeful grin. “Fine. But if I fail my first assignment, it’s on you.”

He laughs, grabbing my hand as I step out into the hallway. The familiar warmth of his hand in mine sends a rush through me, but I brush it off as we make our way down the dorm stairwell and out into the cool night air.

We end up at the campus quad, where a group of students has gathered around one of the designated fire pits, flames flickering and casting warm light over the crowd. Someone’s strumming a guitar, and a few people are scattered around, laughing, talking, completely at ease. The whole scene feels surreal, like we’ve stepped into a movie about college life.

Ethan plops down on the grass, patting the spot beside him. I sit, hugging my knees to my chest as we watch the flames flicker and cast shadows around us.

“So,” he says, glancing over at me, “how’s dorm life treating you?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “It’s…interesting. My roommate’s great, though, so that helps. But the showers? Not exactly luxurious.”

He chuckles, leaning back on his hands. “Same here. And my suitemates… let’s just say I’ve learned more about the art of ‘subtle snoring’ than I ever wanted to know.”

I laugh, the sound echoing. Being here with him feels like a break from everything—that uncomplicated bubble where everything’s simple, just the two of us, and all the other worries fade away.

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