Friday night, I'm restless. The lunch was hours ago, but I can still feel it. The way Ethan looked at me. The way his voice dropped when he said I carry myself like someone older. The way I wanted him to close the distance between us.
Riley's at a party, and I'm alone in the dorm, supposedly working on assignments. Instead, I'm scrolling through photos from the week, looking for something without quite knowing what. I find it from Wednesday, a mirror selfie I took but never posted. Black tank top, high-waisted jeans, natural lighting from my window, hair down and messy in that intentional way. It's not explicit or obvious, but it's definitely a choice.
