Riley texted Elowen at 7:30 that night, right after practice: Just got out. Gonna shower and change, be at your dorm in 45 mins? Wear something cozy—diner's casual. Elowen replied immediately: Can't wait. And then she proceeded to panic again, rummaging through her closet for something to wear. She tried on three different outfits—jeans and a hoodie (too casual), a dress (too fancy), a flannel shirt over a tank top and jeans (perfect)—before settling, and then she spent twenty minutes doing her hair, brushing it out and letting it fall in soft waves around her shoulders. Maeve had FaceTimed her an hour earlier, and when Elowen told her about Riley, her sister had screamed (quietly, since she was in her dorm) and told her to "stop being a nervous wreck and just be yourself." Easy for Maeve to say—she was outgoing, confident, and had been in three relationships since coming out. Elowen was the opposite: shy, an overthinker, never been in any relationship, let alone one with a girl.
At 8:15, there was a knock on Elowen's dorm door. She took a deep breath, smoothed out her flannel shirt, and opened it. Riley was standing there, wearing a gray hoodie with the university's logo on it, black sweatpants, and white sneakers, her hair still slightly damp from the shower. She looked even more beautiful than she had that morning—relaxed, casual, no makeup, just her natural smile and warm eyes. She was holding a small bouquet of daisies, white and yellow, tied with a blue ribbon.
"I passed a flower shop on the way," Riley said, holding out the daisies, her cheeks a little pink—something Elowen had never seen before. Riley Carter, the confident basketball player, was blushing. "I thought you might like them. Daisies are… happy. Like you, when you smile."
Elowen's heart melted. She took the daisies, her fingers brushing against Riley's, and inhaled their sweet scent. "They're perfect. Thank you. No one's ever bought me flowers before."
"Really?" Riley raised an eyebrow. "That's a crime. You deserve flowers every day." She stepped inside the dorm, glancing around. It was small, but cozy—posters of famous paintings taped to the walls (Van Gogh's Starry Night, Frida Kahlo's Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird), a desk covered in art supplies (pencils, pastels, paintbrushes, a half-finished canvas), a bed with plain white sheets and a knit blanket. "Nice place. Very you."
"Thanks." Elowen set the daisies on her desk, in a small vase she'd had since high school. "It's messy, but it's home."
"Messy is good." Riley smiled, leaning against the doorframe. "Ready to go? I'm starving—I skipped lunch today, too busy with practice."
"Yeah, let's go." Elowen grabbed her jacket and her phone and followed Riley out of the dorm. The night air was cool, crisp, with a hint of autumn, and the campus was lit up with streetlights, students walking around in groups, laughing and talking. Riley walked beside her, their shoulders almost touching, and every time their arms brushed, Elowen's heart skipped a beat.
The diner was a five-minute drive from campus, a small, cozy place with red vinyl booths, a jukebox in the corner, and the smell of burgers and fries wafting through the air. It was crowded, but not too busy, and a waitress led them to a booth in the back, away from the noise. They sat down across from each other, and Riley picked up the menu, grinning.
"I come here all the time after practice," she said, pointing to the menu. "Their cheeseburgers are the best—juicy, with crispy fries. And their milkshakes? To die for. Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry… they even have a peanut butter one that's life-changing."
Elowen smiled, looking at the menu. She wasn't very hungry—her nerves had killed her appetite—but she ordered a cheeseburger and a vanilla milkshake, just like Riley. The waitress left, and they sat in silence for a moment, but it wasn't awkward—it was comfortable, warm, like they'd known each other for years.
"So," Riley said, leaning forward, her elbows on the table. "Tell me about your family. You mentioned a sister earlier, right?"
"Yeah, Maeve. She's two years older than me, lives in New York City, studying fashion design." Elowen nodded, smiling. "She's my best friend, honestly. She came out as bisexual when she was eighteen, and when I told her I thought I might be gay, she was the first person to support me. Told me it was okay to be scared, but that I shouldn't hide who I am."
"That's amazing," Riley said, her voice soft. "My family's… okay. My mom's a nurse, my dad's a high school basketball coach. They know I'm gay—came out when I was sixteen. My dad was a little shocked at first, but he got over it. He just wants me to be happy and to keep playing basketball. My mom? She cried, but not because she was mad—because she was worried about me, worried people would judge me. They're supportive, but it's not always easy. They still ask me if I'm 'sure' sometimes, like it's a choice."
Elowen's heart ached for her. She knew what it was like to feel like your family didn't fully understand, even if they were trying. "That must be hard."
"It is, sometimes," Riley said, shrugging. "But it's better than hiding. I tried hiding it for a while—dated a guy in high school, just to fit in. It was miserable. I'd rather be honest and have people judge me than pretend to be someone I'm not." She looked at Elowen, her eyes warm. "What about your parents? Do they know?"
Elowen's smile faded, and she looked down at her hands, twisting her ring (a simple silver band Maeve had given her for her eighteenth birthday). "No. They don't know. I'm scared to tell them. My mom's really religious—she goes to church every Sunday, talks about 'traditional values' all the time. My dad's quieter, but he goes along with whatever my mom says. I'm scared they'll disown me, or hate me, or… I don't know. I just can't bring myself to tell them yet."
Riley reached across the table, taking Elowen's hand in hers. Her touch was warm, gentle, and reassuring, and Elowen looked up at her, tears stinging her eyes. "It's okay to be scared, Elowen. You don't have to tell them until you're ready. Whenever you do, though, you'll have me. I'll be right there with you, no matter what."
Elowen nodded, swallowing hard. She'd never had anyone say that to her—never had anyone promise to be there for her, no matter what. She squeezed Riley's hand, her heart full of warmth and gratitude. "Thank you. That means more than you know."
"I mean it." Riley smiled, squeezing her hand back. "And hey—until then, you have Maeve, and you have me. You're not alone."
The waitress brought their food then, setting the cheeseburgers and fries on the table, and two milkshakes in tall glasses, topped with whipped cream and a cherry. They let go of each other's hands, but Elowen could still feel the warmth of Riley's touch on her skin, could still feel the way her heart had raced when Riley had held her hand. They ate their food, talking about everything and nothing—their favorite movies, their least favorite classes, the worst dates they'd ever been on (Elowen had only been on one, a blind date with a guy from her math class who'd spent the entire time talking about his cat), their dreams for the future.
Riley told Elowen about her dream of playing professional basketball, even if it was a long shot, and about her hope to open her own physical therapy clinic one day, specializing in athletes. Elowen told Riley about her dream of having her own art gallery, of showing her paintings to the world, of making people feel something with her art. They laughed, they smiled, they shared secrets they'd never told anyone else, and by the time they finished their milkshakes, it was almost 10 o'clock, and the diner was starting to empty out.
Riley paid the bill, and they walked back to Elowen's dorm, the night air quiet now, the campus nearly empty. They stopped in front of her dorm door, and Elowen turned to Riley, her heart pounding. She didn't want the night to end, didn't want to let Riley go.
"I had a really good time tonight," Elowen said, her voice quiet. "Thank you. For the flowers, for the dinner, for… everything."
"Me too," Riley said, leaning against the doorframe, her eyes on Elowen's. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time. You're… easy to talk to, Elowen. Different from everyone else."
Elowen's cheeks burned, and she looked down at her feet. "You're easy to talk to, too. Even though you're… You know, popular and cool and everything."
Riley laughed, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm not that cool. I'm just a girl who likes basketball and milkshakes and… you."
Elowen's breath caught in her throat. She looked up at Riley, and there was no mistaking the way Riley was looking at her—warm, intense, full of love and hope. She'd never felt this way before, never felt so seen, so loved, so wanted. She leaned forward, just a little, and Riley did the same, their faces inches apart, the smell of Riley's shampoo (coconut, sweet) filling Elowen's nose.
"Can I kiss you?" Riley whispered, her voice soft, nervous—something Elowen had never heard from her before.
Elowen nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes."
Riley leaned in, and her lips touched Elowen's—soft, gentle, tentative, like she was afraid Elowen would pull away. Elowen closed her eyes, leaning into the kiss, her hands reaching up to cup Riley's face. It was perfect—warm, sweet, full of all the feelings they'd been hiding, all the hope and excitement and nervousness. Riley's lips were soft, a little chapped from the cold, and her hands wrapped around Elowen's waist, pulling her closer, like she never wanted to let her go. The kiss was short, but it felt like forever, and when they pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other, their breath mingling, Elowen's heart was racing, her lips tingling.
"Wow," Elowen whispered, opening her eyes to find Riley smiling at her, her hazel eyes warm and bright.
"Yeah," Riley said, her voice soft. "Wow." She leaned in, kissing Elowen again, this time a little longer, a little more confident, and Elowen melted into her, feeling like she was home.
When they pulled away again, Elowen's cheeks were burning, and Riley was grinning. "I should let you go," Riley said, even though she didn't let go of Elowen's waist. "You have class tomorrow morning."
"Yeah," Elowen said, nodding, but she didn't move. "Can I… see you tomorrow?"
"Absolutely." Riley smiled, leaning in and kissing her forehead gently. "I'll pick you up for breakfast before class. Same place? 7 a.m.?"
"7 a.m. is perfect." Elowen smiled, leaning up and kissing Riley's cheek quickly, before pulling away, her heart racing.
"Goodnight, Elowen," Riley said, her voice soft.
"Goodnight, Riley," Elowen said, opening her dorm door. She looked back at Riley, who was still standing there, smiling at her, and waved. Riley waved back, and Elowen closed the door, leaning against it, her hand on her chest, her heart pounding. She touched her lips, still tingling from Riley's kiss, and smiled. It was real—Riley liked her, really liked her, and she liked Riley, more than she'd ever liked anyone before. But as she stood there, smiling, a small voice in the back of her head whispered—what if her parents found out? What if the school found out? What if this all fell apart? For now, though, she pushed those thoughts away. She didn't want to think about conflict, or fear, or doubt. She just wanted to hold onto this moment—the sweetness of Riley's kiss, the warmth of her touch, the promise of tomorrow. Little did she know, the first conflict was already brewing, waiting to tear them apart, and it would come from the last person she expected.