Eclipsed Love

NIGHTHFALL CONNECTIONS

It takes me at least thirty minutes to recover from the shock and haul all my stuff to the room. Cole is nowhere in sight, thankfully. His disappearance from the room gives me some relief, but we'll definitely need to discuss our living arrangements soon.

By the time I finish organizing everything, it's past ten p.m. My books are neatly arranged on the shelf, clothes are tucked into the closet, and my bed is perfectly made. A wave of pride washes over me, but it's quickly overshadowed by the loud growl of my stomach. I haven't eaten anything since lunch, and my body demands food. I change into more comfortable clothes, opting for baggy t-shirt and pajama shorts, and make the short walk to the canteen.

Grabbing my phone and the university pamphlet to locate the canteen, I head down to the ground floor for the fourth time today. My legs feel like they could give out any minute, and only food can revive me now.

Navigating through the basic outline of the campus, I realize that all my classes are in the same building except for the dreaded sports class Ms. Harrington insisted I join. I still need to decide which sport to pick and what gear I'll need to buy.

After a ten-minute walk to the heart of the campus, I finally find the canteen. It's beautifully designed—a huge cubicle of glass walls with one brick wall extending into the kitchen. Numerous lights illuminate the space, and benches are laid out systematically.

The canteen is enormous—possibly an exaggeration, but it feels huge. The buffet is lined up at the far end, and multiple benches fill the floor. There are only a few staff members and about five students scattered around. As I walk towards the food counter, I observe them. One couple is sitting so close they might merge into a single entity, the girl feeding the boy with a spoon the sight makes me want to puke . Another group of three boys sits in the center, each with a distinct personality: one with black hair and tattoos, another with red hair and porcelain skin, and a quieter one with dusty brown curly hair. They remind me of the Powerpuff Girls.

Reaching the counter, I grab a cheese sandwich and fries. I look for a seat that's not too close to either group and notice another boy sitting alone near the entrance I came through. He's deeply engrossed in his phone, occasionally taking bites from his cereal bowl. His appearance catches my eye: curly hair, a sharp nose, and striking features. Just as I find my seat near the second entrance, he looks up, and our eyes lock. His turquoise blue eyes glimmer as they meet mine, and I quickly look down at my plate, too shy to hold his gaze.

As I eat in silence, I watch the few cars with open roofs pass by the glass walls of the canteen. Some girls, probably drunk, climb onto the roofs, hooting and laughing. I chuckle at their antics, and when I glance back, I notice the blue-eyed boy smiling too. On impulse, I signal for him to join me, my first attempt to make a friend here.

"Hi," he says as he sits down, placing his food on the table across from me.

"Hi. I'm Tessa," I say, extending my hand.

"Wyatt Hale," he replies, shaking my hand with a smile. Wyatt's voice carries a faint English accent, probably from his upbringing. "Nice to meet you."

"So, Wyatt, where are you from?" I ask, taking a bite from my sandwich.

"Washington, actually," he says, pushing back his messy brown hair. "My parents moved here from London when I was five." Now the accent makes sense. "What about you?" he asks in return.

"I'm from Richmond, Virginia," I nod, trying to sound confident.

"Really? Why are you six hours away from home?" he asks, as if it's the most natural question, leaving me stunned. What am I supposed to say to that? "Trust me, if I had gotten into WSU, I would have never come here. My mother freaked out when I told her I had to move so far away from home." I can't relate to his story. I purposely chose a college far away to escape the chaos I call home. "Honestly, I was scared too, but what can we do? The bird has to leave the nest someday," he continues, unaware of my internal struggle. In my case, the bird was thrown out of the nest with broken wings and had to learn to fly the hard way.

Wyatt goes on for about ten minutes, talking about how sweet his mother is and how his father is a schoolteacher. Being an only child, he was the center of attention at home. He tells me about his girlfriend, Zoe, his high school sweetheart, who got into WSU and dreams of becoming a professional photographer. She was heartbroken when he had to move, but they stay connected through calls and plan to meet halfway whenever possible. His love story stirs a pang of jealousy in me, but I push it aside. He speaks so fondly of his family that I briefly wish I could experience what it's like to have loving parents.

"I'm sorry, I talk a lot," Wyatt says, a shy blush spreading across his cheeks. He's cute. "Tell me about your life. Richmond must have been fun?"

Caught like a deer in headlights, I struggle to answer. "It was nothing special. The neighborhood is pretty boring; nobody talks to anybody."

I kept my answer vague, avoiding the painful truths of my past. He didn't need to know about the battles I fought just to stand on my own two feet.

We finished our meals and walked out together, his presence a comforting new addition to my life. As we strolled back to my dorm, I felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, I was beginning to find my place here.

"So, what course are you here for?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Journalism," he replied with a passion that was hard to miss. "I've always found it fascinating."

"That's amazing! Should I expect to see you on CNN soon?" I teased, earning a playful glare from him.

"CNN? Really?" he laughed, rolling his eyes. "I'm aiming a bit higher than that."

We shared a laugh, and I felt a sense of ease around him that I hadn't felt in a long time. As we approached my building, he asked, "You're in 2B? Business studies?"

I smirked. "Is it that surprising for a woman to go into business?"

"No, not at all. I like women in business," he said, his shy smile returning.

"Then name one female billionaire entrepreneur," I challenged, crossing my arms.

"Taylor Swift," he answered without missing a beat, looking up at the sky as if seeking divine inspiration.

I burst out laughing. "That's acceptable, though I was expecting someone from the business world, not the music industry. I would have accepted any answer minus the Kardashian line"

Before parting ways, we exchanged phone numbers and Instagram handles. "You know, I feel like we could be good friends," I say seeing his eyes shining with genuine warmth.

"Feel? I've already added you to my close friends list," he quipped, showing me his phone with my name highlighted. I smiled, feeling a strange sense of belonging.

We waved goodbye, and I dragged my exhausted self back up the stairs to my room. Cole was still nowhere to be seen, a small blessing. I kicked off my shoes and collapsed into bed, setting my alarm for six a.m. Tomorrow was the first day of classes, and I wanted to be fully prepared. I closed my eyes, a sense of peace washing over me as I pass out from exhaustion.