The night slowly settled over the dorm.
The hallway that had been loud and full of voices earlier was now mostly quiet, except for the occasional door closing or footsteps passing by.
Ethan eventually closed his laptop and stretched.
"I think I'm officially exhausted," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Already?" I asked from my bed.
"It's been a long day," he replied. "Moving, getting lost on campus,
I smiled faintly.
"Fair point."
He grabbed a small bag from beside his bed and pulled out a T-shirt before disappearing briefly into the bathroom. When he came back a few minutes later, he looked much more relaxed.
Without saying much, he climbed onto his bed and leaned against the wall.
The room lights were dim now, leaving only the soft glow from the small lamp on his desk.
For a while neither of us spoke.
I tried to scroll through my phone to distract myself, but my mind kept drifting back to the same place.
Ryan.
Across the room, Ethan's phone lit up.
He picked it up and started typing.
At first, I didn't pay much attention.
But then I noticed something.
He was smiling.
Not just a small polite smile.
A real one.
The kind that happens when someone sends you something funny or says something that makes you happy.
He shook his head slightly while typing another reply, like whoever he was texting had said something ridiculous.
A second later his phone buzzed again.
He laughed quietly.
I looked away quickly before he could notice I was watching.
But the image stayed in my mind.
The easy smile.
The quick replies.
The way he looked genuinely happy just talking to whoever was on the other side of that screen.
My chest tightened a little.
I wished Ryan looked like that when he texted me.
I wished he sounded excited to talk to me again.
Instead, our conversation was still sitting there with only a few short messages.
I opened our chat again.
Still nothing new.
The last thing he said was still the same.
That's weird.
I stared at it for a moment.
Was he busy?
Or did he just not feel like continuing the conversation?
Across the room, Ethan's phone buzzed again.
He leaned back against the wall, typing quickly.
Another small smile spread across his face.
I looked down at my phone again, suddenly feeling a strange mix of sadness and jealousy.
Not because of who he was texting.
But because of how he looked while doing it.
Like talking to that person actually meant something.
Like he was happy they had messaged him.
I wondered if Ryan ever smiled like that while texting me.
Or if he ever used to.
My throat felt tight again.
Maybe I was overthinking everything.
Maybe Ryan was just tired.
Maybe he would message again later.
Still, the doubt crept in quietly.
Did he still like me?
Or was I the only one still holding onto something that had already ended?
I glanced across the room again.
Ethan was still texting, the light from his phone reflecting softly on his face. Every few seconds his expression changed—sometimes amused, sometimes thoughtful.
Then he shook his head again and muttered quietly under his breath.
"Unbelievable."
I almost asked what happened but stopped myself.
We weren't close enough for that kind of conversation yet.
So instead I rolled onto my side, facing the wall.
I tried to focus on the quiet sounds of the dorm instead of the thoughts in my head.
Behind me, Ethan's phone buzzed one more time.
He chuckled softly.
For some reason, hearing that made my chest ache just a little more.
Because at that moment, lying in a new room in a new place, I realized something I hadn't wanted to admit all day.
I missed Ryan.
Not just a little.
A lot.
And no matter how much I tried to pretend I was okay with the breakup, seeing someone else happy while texting someone they cared about made that painfully clear.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the blanket closer around me.
Across the room, Ethan finally placed his phone on the bedside table.
The room grew quiet again.
But the thoughts in my head were anything but.