Scene: Campus Cafeteria – Late Afternoon
The hum of student chatter filled the campus cafeteria like white noise—background buzz to the clinking of trays and the hiss of the espresso machine. Students drifted in and out in small groups, eyes tired from lectures but spirits lifted by the promise of the weekend.
Near the wide windows, where sunlight painted long rectangles across the floor, a table of friends gathered around empty plates and half-melted iced coffee. Hannah sat cross-legged on the bench seat, a fry in one hand and her phone in the other, while her friends—Jisoo, Mira, and Dana—spread out around her.
“I’m telling you,” Jisoo said, tossing her long hair over her shoulder, “this beach trip is going to save my life. If I spend one more weekend staring at textbooks, I might actually cry.”
“You already cried last week during group project reviews,” Mira teased, grinning.
“That was different,” Jisoo huffed. “That was emotional trauma.”
Hannah laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re so dramatic. But seriously—I need this trip too. I feel like I haven’t been outside campus in forever.”
“Are we actually locked in for Saturday?” Dana asked, chewing the straw of her smoothie. “Because I need to put in a shift change if this is real.”
“It’s real,” Hannah confirmed. “I even made a packing list already. Towels, sunscreen, snacks... and extra snacks, just for Mira.”
“God bless you,” Mira said, dramatically placing a hand on her heart.
Just then, a familiar voice chimed in from behind. “Did someone say snacks?”
Noah.
Hannah turned in her seat instinctively. He stood there in his usual way—half-slouched, backpack still hanging from one shoulder, a water bottle tucked under his arm. His hair was a little messy, like he’d just come from class, and his smile was casual and warm.
“Noah,” Hannah said, scooting over automatically to make room. “You’re late.”
“I wasn’t even invited,” he said, sliding onto the bench beside her without hesitation. “But I heard ‘beach’ and figured I was morally obligated to crash the conversation.”
“You’re coming too?” Jisoo asked, raising a brow.
“Apparently,” Noah said, nudging Hannah gently. “She mentioned it yesterday and forgot to follow up.”
“I didn’t forget,” Hannah said, smirking. “I was waiting for you to invite yourself. Like you always do.”
“Which I did. You’re welcome.”
Everyone chuckled, the rhythm between Hannah and Noah easy, like old habits worn soft with time. The girls were used to this—how the two of them could carry on entire conversations with half-smiles and inside jokes. There was never any awkwardness, never any pause.
“Well, you’re definitely coming now,” Mira said, twirling a spoon between her fingers. “We need someone to help us carry the cooler.”
“Oh, is that why you want me there?” Noah said with a mock sigh. “The strong, dependable guy role. Classic.”
“Exactly,” Dana said, deadpan. “Also, you owe me from last semester when I gave you my Econ notes.”
“Touché.”
Hannah looked over at Noah, her eyes lingering for a second longer than she intended. He was here, sitting next to her like always—but things weren’t quite like always, not really. Not since he started dating Lila.
Still, when they were like this—surrounded by laughter and trays of half-finished fries—it felt almost the same. Comfortable. Safe.
“So what’s the plan?” Noah asked, pulling a bag of chips from his backpack and casually offering it around. “We all cram into Mira’s tiny car and hope for the best?”
“We’re taking two cars,” Hannah said, taking a chip without thinking. “Mira and Dana in one, me and Jisoo in the other. You can ride with either.”
He looked at her. “I’ll go with you.”
There was a pause. Not long, not awkward. Just noticeable. The kind that stretched a breath too long.
“Cool,” she said quietly.
Dana picked up on it, her gaze flicking between them briefly before she leaned back, stretching. “Do we have a playlist ready? I refuse to sit through another car ride with Jisoo’s depressing indie breakup songs.”
“They’re meaningful,” Jisoo protested. “They tell a story.”
“A sad one,” Mira muttered.
“I’ll make a playlist,” Noah offered, looking amused. “Upbeat, summer vibes, zero crying involved.”
“Finally, someone with taste,” Dana said, raising her drink like a toast.
Hannah smiled to herself, feeling the energy of the table shift into lightness again. But there was still that little thread of tension curled inside her chest. It was always there now, quiet and steady, like the tide.
She hadn’t met Lila yet, but she’d seen the photos. Pretty. Confident. The kind of girl who wore sleek boots and winged eyeliner and always looked like she belonged in every room. Noah spoke about her sometimes, casually—nothing over the top. But enough that Hannah knew it was real.
Still, he was here. With her. Talking about playlists and snacks and beach plans like nothing had changed.
Maybe that was the problem.
“Hey,” he said, leaning closer while the others debated sunscreen brands. “You okay?”
She blinked. “What? Yeah. I’m fine.”
“You got quiet all of a sudden.”
“I’m just thinking.” She offered a soft smile. “I’m glad you’re coming with us.”
He looked at her for a beat, his gaze thoughtful. “Me too.”
Their shoulders brushed as he leaned back into the group conversation. Hannah didn’t move away.
She told herself it didn’t mean anything. That this was what friendship looked like. That she had no right to wish for anything else.
But still, somewhere deep inside, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like—just once—if he looked at her the way he looked in those photos with Lila.
Even just for a moment.
