Nothing Left to Say

Clive messaged me almost immediately.

[What do you mean?]

A breakup, obviously.

I didn't bother explaining. I blocked every way he could contact me and left that 12-person group chat as well.

When I looked up again, I had just arrived outside the apartment complex we had rented off campus together.

Clive didn't come back that night. He was probably continuing whatever Danielle and he had been doing before I interrupted them.

Thinking that, I started packing.

While sorting through my things, I came across a Polaroid photo.

It was from high school. Back when I still had a crush on Clive, I had secretly taken it during a break. He was doing homework, and when he looked up, his gaze landed on me, gentle but distant.

Back then, my face had gone hot. Afraid he would notice my feelings, I had fled in a panic.

I held that Polaroid for a long time as the sky outside slowly darkened.

Then, I slipped the photo into the very bottom of my suitcase and zipped it shut.

Sitting on the floor, I looked around the small apartment we had lived in for over two years. My memories still ran wild on their own.

Clive and I didn't officially get together until the second semester of freshman year.

In high school, even though we had been at the same school for three years, we had barely spoken.

He was good-looking, came from a well-off family, and was a top student in the science track. He was great at sports and always stood out, surrounded by people.

Meanwhile, I was just an ordinary student in the liberal arts track. The bravest thing I ever did was pretend to pass by the back door of his classroom during breaks just to sneak a quick look at his side profile as he bent over his work.

We were never in the same world.

After graduation, we somehow ended up at the same university.

On move-in day, I got lost outside the gym. I was holding a heavy stack of documents and nearly ran into someone.

The papers were scattered all over the ground. I hurriedly crouched down to pick them up when I heard a voice above me.

"Julia?"

I looked up and saw Clive standing there against the light, wearing a plain white T-shirt. His features were clear and familiar.

He actually knew my name.

I froze, unable to say anything, while he had already crouched down to help me.

"Julia Watts from the liberal arts track, right?" he asked as he gathered the papers. "At the graduation ceremony, you gave the valedictorian speech. I remember."

My heart was pounding out of control. I could only nod.

Clive picked up most of the documents for me and asked which dorm building I was heading to. As we walked, he chatted casually about high school teachers and how new everything felt at college. His tone was easy and familiar.

When we reached the building, he handed the papers back to me and smiled.

"We're classmates now. Let's stay in touch."

I clutched my phone and watched him walk away, my palms slick with sweat.

From that day on, we really did start staying in touch.

At first, it was just greeting each other when we ran into one another on campus. Then, we started eating together at the dining hall. Later, he would ask me to study together at the library.

Clive wasn’t much of a studier. Half the time, he would end up falling asleep with his head on the table, his soft hair falling over his forehead.

I would read my book while secretly watching him, my chest filled with a sour-sweet feeling.

On New Year's Eve, he asked me to watch fireworks by the river with him.

The crowd was packed tight, and we got separated.

I was starting to panic when bright stage lights suddenly flashed ahead. Everyone's attention was drawn to a band performing nearby.

And there, standing at the center as the lead singer, was Clive. He looked straight at me, smiling as he sang, his gaze serious and focused.

When the fireworks exploded across the night sky, he shouted, "Julia, I've fallen for you since I met you! Will you be my girlfriend?"

I stared into his shining eyes, my heart thudding in my chest, and forced myself to shout back, "Yes!"

The early days were sweet.

He would wake up early and cross half the campus just to bring me breakfast.

When I caught a cold, he would clumsily make warming tea for me.

He remembered movies I casually mentioned wanting to see and would buy tickets in advance to surprise me.

He made me believe I hadn't loved the wrong person.

But then, Danielle appeared about half a year after we started dating.

She was Clive's childhood friend. Her family lived right across the hall from his, and they had grown up together.

The first time I met Danielle, I finally understood what people meant by a perfect match.