Chapter 3: Stargazer’s First Heartbreak

Back in my tiny apartment, I dropped my bag by the door. For a second, I just stood there, letting the silence settle. Then the memories I’d locked away came rushing back.

The place smelled like coffee and clean laundry, but my mind was miles away—back on campus, back when everything felt possible. I kicked off my shoes, curled up on the couch, and let the old feelings wash over me. For once, I didn’t fight them.

Freshman year, my roommate Sophie Lane and I joined the university’s stargazers’ club. That’s where I met Ethan, the club’s vice president.

Sophie had dragged me to the first meeting, promising it’d be fun. Honestly, I wasn’t convinced, but I went along anyway. I remember sitting in that drafty lecture hall, staring at the ceiling tiles, until Ethan walked in and took the front. He had this quiet confidence, the kind that made everyone listen without him even trying.

The first time I saw him, he wore a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. He looked impossibly clean-cut. Quietly magnetic. His tall frame and that gentle, unreadable face stuck in my mind for weeks.

He looked like the kind of guy who belonged in a college brochure—hands in his pockets, eyes focused on the stars, completely unaware of how good he looked.

This is dangerous. But I couldn’t help myself.

I’d never had a real crush before. Suddenly, my heart was racing at nineteen. And I didn’t know what to do with that.

It was like being sixteen again—only worse. Because now I knew what it meant to want something so badly. I found myself doodling his name in the margins of my notebooks, daydreaming through lectures, catching myself smiling for no reason.

After that, I started asking around about Ethan. The club veterans said he was brilliant, reserved, and never the type to make the first move. Especially not with girls who chased him. Word was, he was a mystery no one could solve.

I heard stories—how he’d turned down homecoming dates, how he never lingered after meetings, how he always seemed just out of reach. Go figure, I thought. Leave it to me to fall for the most unavailable guy on campus.

But he was single. Even as a junior, he’d never dated anyone. That gave me hope.

It was a thin thread, but I clung to it. Sophie teased me about my “hopeless case.” Ha. She was the first to nudge me forward, whispering encouragements whenever Ethan was near.

With Sophie’s help—she was a born matchmaker—I found ways to bump into Ethan around campus. She’d nudge me into helping him with club projects. Or find excuses to leave me alone with him after meetings. She was relentless.

Sometimes she’d disappear just as everyone was packing up, leaving me to help Ethan with the telescope or the paperwork. I’d blush, fumble through small talk, and try not to sound too eager. He never seemed to mind, but he never gave much away, either. God, it was awkward.

Gradually, we got to know each other. I started to think maybe he wasn’t as cold with me as he was with everyone else. Maybe.

He’d ask about my classes, or offer to carry my bag if we were walking the same way. Once, he even laughed at one of my dumb jokes. I nearly floated home that night. It felt like a victory, like I’d cracked the code just a little.

One night, after a stargazing event, Sophie ducked out early and asked Ethan to walk me home. To my shock, he agreed.

I tried to act casual, but my heart was pounding so hard I thought he could hear it. The campus was quiet, the sky full of stars, and for a minute, I let myself imagine that anything was possible.

I was nervous and giddy. Halfway across campus, I tripped on a curb. He caught me instantly. For a moment, I was clutching his arm, his other hand steadying me. We were so close I could smell the fresh-cut grass on his jacket. My face burned.

The world seemed to freeze. My cheeks burned, and I could barely breathe. He looked at me, concern in his eyes, then glanced away. I caught my breath, heart racing. “Let’s go,” he said quietly.

I never knew what Ethan really thought of me. It wasn’t until he seemed jealous of my friendship with Caleb Miller—a friend from Sophie’s hometown—that I let myself hope.

Caleb was the kind of guy everyone liked—easygoing, always ready with a joke. When he joined our study group, Ethan started acting different. He’d show up early, linger after meetings, sometimes watching us from across the room with a look I couldn’t quite read.

Caleb was funny, outgoing, and everyone said he’d make a great boyfriend. But he knew I liked Ethan, so I always figured we were just friends. Still, sometimes I wondered what it would be like if I let myself like him back.

He’d tease me about my crush, but never pushed. Sometimes I wondered if he saw more than I did. If he was waiting for me to figure things out on my own.

One night, Caleb sat with me at the library, and Ethan walked by. After that, Ethan got distant. Two weeks later, I finally cornered him at a club event. My stomach was in knots.

He cleared his throat, awkward. “That guy— is he your boyfriend?”

I shook my head, flustered, cheeks burning. “No, just a friend. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

He gave a tiny smile.

That was the first time I thought maybe he liked me, too.

It was barely there, but it felt like a door opening. I walked home that night replaying every detail, every look, every word, until I convinced myself it meant something. Maybe it did.

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