Constanza

Constanza sat on the edge of her bed, legs curled beneath her, her peacoat still buttoned even though the heat had kicked on. She hadn’t decided if she was going out for a walk or not.

Across the room, her roommate, Ashley, was winding down for the night, tying her head scarf. Once she finished, she picked up her phone, scrolling with one hand while flipping off her desk lamp with the other. The gentle rustle of sheets and the hum of the heater made the dorm feel still and settled.

But inside Constanza, everything felt off balance.

The last few days, she kept finding herself replaying the dinner she’d organized with Amara, Dorian, and David. Something about it wouldn’t leave her alone.

Before that night, David was just. . . David. The soft-spoken guy who shared notes and understood references in their Lit class without her having to explain them. Someone she laughed with after lectures. Just a friend.

But something had shifted during that dinner. The way he looked at her, like she was the only one in the room, even with Amara giggling beside her and Dorian cracking jokes. On their walk back to campus, it became clear he liked her as more than a friend.

But when it came to her own feelings, she wasn’t sure what to do with them. She hadn’t figured out how she felt. So she started to pull back by editing her texts and rewording her sarcasm. Holding back just enough to keep from giving him the wrong idea.

Her phone buzzed.

David: Random question. . . Have you read any of Jodi Picoult’s newer stuff?

She smiled.

Constanza: Not yet. I’ve been meaning to read Off the Page and Leaving Time though. You?

David: Read Sing You Home. Hit me way harder than I expected.

Constanza: I live for those. I swear the emotional ones are always the best.

David: Those are the ones that stay with you the longest.

Constanza: Currently reading House Rules. I’m late to the party, I know.

David: That one’s good, but the cliffhanger ending? Pissed me off.

Constanza: Don’t tell me that 😩 I just got to the trial scenes.

David: Promise I won’t ruin it for you.
David: Also. . . would you maybe wanna get lunch at Panera or something this weekend?

She stared at the message.

It should’ve been an easy yes.

David was everything you were supposed to want. He was kind. Genuine. Charming. He noticed the little things, checked in, and didn’t play games. The type who remembered little things about you.

And yet. . .

As she stared at the screen, something twisted in her chest, because she wasn’t feeling the thing she thought she was supposed to feel.

No flutter.

No spark.

No pull.

And that made her feel guilty.

Because what was wrong with liking someone like him?

She left the message unanswered. Pulled on her boots. Wrapped her scarf tight, then left the dorm room and walked down the narrow hallway. After heading down the stairwell to the building’s main entrance, she pushed through the heavy front doors. Cold air rushed against her face.

***

The campus at night always felt gentler. The streets were quieter and the air cooler. Everything felt calmer after dark.

She walked past the quad, past the dining hall, and then cut through the field near the gym. Walking with her head down, she rounded the gym corner and nearly collided with someone.

A girl out for a run.

“Whoa,” the girl said, catching herself before they touched. “My bad.”

Constanza froze, glancing up to find a tall girl in gray joggers and a Trinity University soccer hoodie. Her dark brown hair, cut into a blunt bob, hugged her jawline, tucked behind her ears beneath a navy beanie. She had sharp features and stood like she owned the ground under her feet.

“I swear I wasn’t trying to run you over,” the girl said, adjusting her hoodie sleeves.

Constanza raised an eyebrow. “Good to know, because you came around that corner like you had somewhere urgent to be.”

The girl grinned. “Just getting a little cardio in.” She glanced at Constanza again, taking her in. “You’re definitely not a junior. First-year?”

“Yeah,” Constanza said slowly.

“Thought so. You’ve got the new-student-overthinking-everything face.”

Constanza frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“Means you’re doing that thing where you’re walking around with three different thoughts and none of them have anything to do with where you’re going.”

That pulled a soft laugh from Constanza. She tilted her head. “You always this confident with strangers?”

The girl smirked. “Only the cute ones.”

Constanza felt warmth spread across her cheeks. “You’re ridiculous.”

The girl shrugged, then finally stuck out her hand. “I’m Mel. I’m a keeper on the soccer team here.”

“Constanza,” she said, shaking her hand.

“Pretty name.”

The compliment caught her off guard. Heat crept into her cheeks, and a shy smile pulled at her lips before she could stop it.

They locked eyes for a second too long.

Mel leaned back on her heels, a grin still sitting comfortably on her face. “Well, Constanza,” she said, voice lower now, playful, “I’ll let you get back to your little night walk. But if we run into each other again,” she added, backing up a few steps, “just know it won’t be by accident.”

Then she turned and jogged off toward the dorms like she hadn’t just completely thrown Constanza off course.

Constanza stood beneath the street light, suddenly forgetting why she’d gone on the walk in the first place.

***

Two days later, the Instagram DM came in.

ItsMell13.Mel: Found u.

LuvnStanz: I see. Are you stalking me now?

ItsMell13.Mel: No. Just watching from afar 😁

LuvnStanz: So. . . stalking. Like I said.

ItsMell13.Mel: Lol. Be honest. . . are U a pumpkin spice girlie or nah?

LuvnStanz: Mmm. . . 🤔

ItsMell13.Mel: If ur not, it’s a dealbreaker, I’m afraid.

LuvnStanz: So I’m being judged right now?

ItsMell13.Mel: Ur being evaluated. Respectfully. But yes.

LuvnStanz: . . . maybe I am.

ItsMell13.Mel: Knew it.

LuvnStanz: I love all things fall, so it’s a must.

ItsMell13.Mel: How about Starbies this Saturday? My treat. U + me + Ur favorite pumpkin spice drink.

LuvnStanz: Fine. But only if you admit PSLs are 10/10 for fall time.

ItsMell13.Mel: They’re 10/10 for ANYTIME. See U Saturday, Miss Autumn 😉

From there, Mel didn’t let up.

For the rest of the week, Mel’s DMs lit up Constanza’s Instagram and Snapchat. She’d send mirror selfies in her gym gear, asking for outfit ratings, which became their daily ritual. In between, there were memes, random Snapchat calls, and Snaps that always ended in a laugh. She started calling Constanza My Latte Girl and Miss Autumn, acting like their Saturday coffee date meant more to her than it did to Constanza.

Now that Saturday had come, she hadn't heard a word from Mel.

She sent Mel a DM asking what time she wanted to meet. The message was left on "seen" with no reply. After that, all her other messages only showed "sent." It was getting later in the day, and she still hadn’t heard from her and had no other way to contact her. To keep her dignity intact, she erased any thought of sending another message. Mel wasn’t replying. And she knew how to take a hint.

It was clear she was being stood up.

Seriously? she thought.

Her feelings were hurt, and she hated that they were.

She tossed her phone on the bed.

Getting stood up shouldn’t have bothered her this much. That was the embarrassing part.

So when her phone rang with a FaceTime call from Amara, she hesitated before answering. She didn’t feel like explaining why she looked disappointed over someone she barely knew. After a second, she forced a smile and picked up.

Amara’s face filled the screen, her hair freshly done in Bantu knots and her brows already raised. “You look upset. What’s wrong?”

Constanza adjusted her position and forced a small shrug. “Nothing, really. I’m just bored.”

Amara narrowed her eyes immediately, clearly not buying it.

“Bored? Aren’t you the one who was all dressed up to go somewhere or whatever?”

“I changed my mind,” she shrugged. “Didn’t feel like going anymore.”

“Uh-huh. . .” Amara let it go for now. “Well, Naomi and I are heading to that antique shop downtown. It’s for a class assignment, we’re researching local artwork and its creator. Wanna come with?”

Constanza shook her head. “I think I’m just gonna chill today. Catch up on reading. Maybe nap.”

“Alright, Miss Anti-Social. Guess I’ll drag you out next weekend.”

“You’re welcome to try.”

Amara laughed, then tilted her head. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m good. Promise.”

After they hung up, the room felt even quieter.

Constanza changed into high-waisted jeans and a cream-colored cropped sweater, sleeked her hair into a low bun, and sat near the window with House Rules open in her lap. She flipped to the page where her bookmark rested and tried to focus. 

But her mind wouldn’t settle.

Every few pages, she checked her phone.

Nothing.

The hours blurred together. The sun dipped lower outside the dorm window, staining the sky orange and gold.

Still nothing.

Finally, her phone buzzed.

Amara: You find something to cure that boredom yet?

Constanza: I was gonna grab a latte, but I didn’t want to go alone.

Amara: Girl. . . ask David. You know he’ll go with you.

Constanza stared at the screen before replying.

Constanza: I know. I just don’t wanna lead him on or make things confusing.

Amara responded almost immediately.

Amara: I get that. But he’s still your friend. Friends get lattes too.

Constanza bit her lip.

David had been on her mind all week.

But not as much as Mel.

Mel made her nervous in a way she wasn’t used to. Everything about her felt bold and unpredictable. David felt different. Easier. Safe.

Maybe that should’ve been enough.

Constanza: I think I’m just gonna stay in and read.

Amara: Boring 😂

Constanza: Yep. Embracing it.

Constanza: You seeing Dorian tonight?

Amara: Yes! He won’t tell me what we're doing though 🙄

Constanza smiled.

Constanza: That’s actually cute. He wants to surprise you 🥲

Constanza: FaceTime me while you’re getting ready so I can see the outfit.

Amara: Bet. Talk soon.

Constanza set her phone aside and flopped back onto the bed with her book resting against her chest.

Her thoughts drifted again.

To Mel.

To David.

To the embarrassment of caring this much about getting ignored by somebody she barely knew.

At some point, she drifted off to sleep.

A couple hours later, her phone chimed with a FaceTime call from Amara.

Constanza squinted at the screen before accepting it.

Music played softly in the background while Amara adjusted her phone against something on her desk.

“Did I wake you?” she asked.

“You’re fine,” Constanza mumbled, stretching.

Amara was halfway through getting dressed. She still had on her pink terry cloth robe and was holding a small bottle of hair oil.

“Okay,” Amara said. “I’m about to take these down. You ready?”

Constanza propped her chin on her hand. “I’ve been ready.”

Amara unraveled the first Bantu knot and smiled when the curl bounced free. “Oop! We got movement.”

“Yesss,” Constanza said with a slow grin. “Those curls look so good on you.”

Amara smiled and continued unraveling. “He just said ‘wear something cozy and cute,’ so I’m still clueless on where we’re going.”

“Meanwhile I can’t even get somebody to answer a message,” Constanza mumbled under her breath.

Amara paused. “What was that?”

Constanza quickly shook her head. “Nothing. I said it sounds cute.”

Amara’s expression softened. “You sure you’re good?”

Constanza gave a small shrug. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Amara didn’t push it.

Constanza watched her finish getting dressed. She noticed Amara tugging at the hem of her dress, trying to pull it lower.

She has beautiful legs; why hide them?

“You look great,” she said.

“I hate my legs.” Amara grimaced.

“Your legs are fine.” Her eyes scanned Amara’s background, looking around for a solution. “Why don't you wear those black, knee-high boots?” She pointed out the boots under Amara's raised dorm bed.

She watched as Amara continued getting ready. She could see her confidence slowly growing as her look came together. She was excited for her friend, but the growing worry in her stomach was slowly getting in the way.

Amara stepped back from the camera and did a small spin.

“Perfect,” Constanza said with a smile, but her thoughts were starting to wander again.

Maybe I have my Instagram notifications on silent.

She was trying to fight the urge to check and was losing horribly.

Amara carefully separated another curl. “I’ll text you later if I can sneak a mirror selfie.”

“Please do.”

“I’ll call you after if it goes terribly.”

Constanza smiled. “Or. . . if it goes amazing.”

“That too.”

They hung up a minute later.

Constanza stared at the ceiling for a while afterward, not fully sure what she was waiting for anymore.

But she knew it probably wasn’t coming.

She picked her book back up, eyes skimming the same paragraph over and over without processing a single word.

The silence in the room felt heavier now.

“Ughhhh,” she groaned, flopping backward against the mattress.

For the next few hours, she went back and forth with herself about texting David.

Part of her felt guilty.

Another part of her missed how easy talking to him felt.

Then came a knock at the door.

Soft at first.

Then louder the second time.

Constanza frowned. Ashley always came back Sunday evenings and had her own keycard.

“Who the hell is it?” she called out, irritated as she tossed her phone aside and walked to the door.

When she yanked it open, Naomi, from Amara’s building, stood there.

“I’m sorry, girl. I thought you were asleep and couldn’t hear me.”

If you thought I was sleeping, why keep knocking? Constanza thought.

“It’s okay,” she sighed. “I thought somebody was playing around.”

Then she paused.

“If you’re looking for Amara, she’s not here. She’s out with Dorian.”

“I know,” Naomi said slowly. “But. . . your other friend was looking for your room.”

“My other friend?” Constanza frowned. “What other friend?”

That’s when Mel stepped into view, leaning against the doorframe with the same smug little smirk.

“You forgot me already?” she teased.

Heat rushed straight to Constanza’s face.

She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the door. “Where’d you find the audacity to show up here after ignoring me all day? Because I know they don’t sell it in the campus store.”

Naomi’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oop.”

Then she quickly disappeared down the hallway.

Mel raised both hands. “Okay. I deserved that.”

Before Constanza could respond, Mel stepped forward and gently grabbed her arm, moving past her into the room. The door clicked shut behind her.

Constanza immediately pulled away. “I didn’t say you could come in.”

“I came here to make it up to you.”

That’s when Constanza caught the scent of her perfume. Warm and musky, clinging to the air between them. It wrapped around her senses, slowly stirring up nerves and butterflies in her stomach. She was still mad and annoyed, but Mel’s sudden appearance threw her off balance.

“How?” she asked softly.

Mel stepped closer, close enough for Constanza to feel her breath brush against her cheek.

“Come to this party with me,” she whispered near her ear before slowly pulling back with a grin.

“No way. I’m not going anywhere with you. Besides. . . I’m busy.”

Mel glanced around the room, brows lifted. “Busy doing what?”

“Just get out.”

Constanza reached for the doorknob, but Mel caught her wrist again.

“Wait. Just listen, please.” Her voice softened. “I know I messed up today.”

Constanza crossed her arms. “You think?”

Mel let out a breath and looked down for a second before meeting her eyes again. “I got back from treatment and knocked out for a couple hours. When I woke up, I saw your messages.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “By then I figured you were pissed, and I didn’t know what to say.”

Constanza’s expression didn’t change. “You could’ve started with literally anything.”

“I know.”

Constanza shook her head. “We don’t even have each other’s numbers. It’s always Snapchat or Instagram DMs.”

Mel looked off to the side, scratching the back of her neck. “I mean. . . that’s just how I usually talk to people.”

Constanza stayed quiet, unsure whether she wanted to yell at her or roll her eyes.

“It doesn’t even matter,” she muttered, looking away.

“So you’re still mad?” Mel stepped closer, fingers brushing lightly beneath the hem of Constanza’s cropped sweater.

“No,” Constanza said quickly, gently pushing her hand away. “Because I don’t care.”

The lie sounded weak the second it left her mouth.

Mel didn’t move. “Then come with me. Just for a little while.”

Constanza let out a heavy sigh and thought for a minute. It wouldn’t hurt to get out for a little bit.

“Fine,” she said finally. “A couple hours. That’s it.”

Mel lit up immediately, grinning like she’d just won something. “Let’s go.”

***

Constanza walked a few steps behind Mel the entire way to the party.

She barely heard half of what Mel was saying.

Something in her gut kept twisting tighter the closer they got. Every instinct told her this was a bad idea.

They reached a two-story house with music spilling from the open windows. The second Constanza stepped inside, heat wrapped around her. The house was crowded and humid compared to the cold outside. Persian Rugs by PARTYNEXTDOOR was fading out through the speakers, the slower tempo making the party feel less chaotic than she expected.

Mel tilted her head toward the staircase, silently telling Constanza to follow her.

As they pushed through the crowd, shoulders bumped against strangers and the smell of sweat, liquor, and cologne thickened the air. Upstairs was quieter and cooler.

They passed a bathroom where someone was banging on the door, yelling for whoever was inside to hurry up. A second later, Constanza heard puking through the wall.

Further down the hallway, a group sat crowded inside one of the bedrooms smoking and laughing loudly.

Mel kept walking until they reached a room at the very end of the hall.

Still holding Constanza’s hand, she opened the door and pulled her inside.

The room was simple and barely decorated. A mattress with a dark blue comforter sat directly on a box spring on the floor beside two mismatched nightstands. A tall dresser leaned crooked against one wall. Blue LED lights lined the ceiling, casting a dim glow across the room.

The heavy scent of AXE body spray clung to the air.

“Have a seat,” Mel said, motioning toward the bed.

Constanza didn’t move. Her arms stayed folded tightly across her chest as she glanced around the room again.

“Why are we up here?” she asked cautiously. “I thought you were making it up to me for standing me up.”

“I am.”

Constanza frowned. “Mel.”

Mel stepped closer, her expression softening just a little. “Can you relax for like two seconds?”

“Considering you dragged me to a random bedroom at a house party after ignoring me all day? No.”

That made Mel crack a small smile. “Okay. Fair.”

Constanza stayed near the door. “So what exactly is your plan here?”

Instead of answering right away, Mel stepped closer and let her fingers graze lightly along the side of Constanza’s neck, just beneath the base of her bun.

“To make you stop being mad at me,” she said quietly before kissing her cheek.

Then her neck.

The kiss lingered there longer this time, turning into a slow suck against her skin. Mel’s hands slipped beneath Constanza’s sweater, sliding across her waist and up her back before drifting lower again.

Constanza felt herself tense.

She didn’t want this.

Not like this.

She grabbed Mel’s wrists. “I’m leaving.”

Before she could step away, someone started banging on the bedroom door.

“Melanie!” a voice screamed from the other side. “Open this fucking door!”

Constanza jumped. “Who is th—”

Mel immediately covered her mouth.

“You gotta get in the closet,” she whispered frantically.

“What?!”

But Mel was already shoving her backward.

The closet door slammed shut just as the bedroom door burst open.

“What young bitch are you messing with now?!” a girl shouted.

“It’s just me, Lyric,” Mel lied quickly.

“Jess saw you over at the dorms! Stop fucking lying!”

A loud smack echoed through the room.

“Chill out! Stop hitting me!” Mel shouted.

“You always do this shit!” Lyric screamed before breaking into angry, hysterical tears.

Constanza stayed quiet in the dark closet, barely breathing.

Outside, the yelling kept going.

Then her shoulder bumped into a row of wire hangers.

They clattered loudly onto the hardwood floor.

Silence.

“Who the fuck you got in the closet?!” Lyric screamed.

There were quick footsteps, then a scuffle.

“Stop! Nobody’s in there!” Mel yelled.

Too late.

The closet door swung open.

An olive-skinned girl with smudged eyeliner and messy dark curls stared at her with wide, furious eyes. “Who the fuck are you?!”

Before Constanza could speak, Lyric grabbed her by the collar and dragged her out. Mel tried to intervene, but Lyric shoved her hard enough to send her stumbling backward.

As Constanza scrambled to her feet, Mel again tried to hold Lyric back, but Lyric was hysterical. She slapped Mel, lunged for Constanza’s bun, and started yanking. Constanza managed to stand fully and rammed Lyric into the nearby dresser.

“Bitch!” Lyric screamed, still clutching Constanza’s hair, which had come loose and now hung wildly around her shoulders. Lyric clawed at her neck, leaving behind a sharp burning scratch.

By now, a crowd had gathered at the doorway. Someone shouted, “Yo, move, move!” and pushed through the onlookers. It was the guy whose room they were fighting in, rushing in to break it up.

The two of them hit the floor in a tangled mess. Lyric, still gripping Constanza’s hair, started kicking wildly, trying to land a hit. Desperate to break free, Constanza swung blindly. Two punches landed, hard, against Lyric’s face, and her grip finally loosened.

Someone yanked Constanza up and dragged her into the hallway. Gasping for air, she looked back long enough to see Lyric still screaming inside the room while people tried to hold her back from now hitting Mel.

Fuck this, Constanza thought.

Constanza shoved through the crowd and bolted for the stairs.

She slipped near the bottom step and hit hard against the wall.

A guy tried to help her up. “Yo, you aight?”

She smacked his hand away and pushed herself back up before sprinting out the front door.

Once she hit the sidewalk, she didn’t stop running.

Not until the residence hall finally came into view.

***

By the time she reached the dorm building, her legs were shaking.

The front steps felt endless.

She nearly stumbled before making it through the doors.

Inside, she pressed the elevator button with trembling fingers and leaned heavily against the wall while she waited.

The second the doors opened, she stepped inside and slid down against the cold metal wall.

She stayed there the entire ride up, praying no RA stepped inside and started asking questions.

When the elevator dinged, she quietly slipped out and made her way down the hallway.

The room was dark when she entered.

Ashley still wasn’t back.

Thank God.

Constanza hurried into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

The tears came immediately.

She peeled off her sweater and stared at herself in the mirror.

The scratches across her neck and collarbone were red and irritated but not deep. Her face looked blotchy from crying.

Hopefully bruises wouldn’t show up tomorrow.

Her hair looked worse.

Her bun was completely undone, golden curls tangled and frizzed from Lyric yanking at them. 

She sprayed water through it and slowly worked through the knots with her fingers before finally stepping into the shower.

The second warm water hit her skin, everything replayed in her head again.

Mel’s hands on her body.

The closet.

Lyric screaming.

The humiliation of all of it.

“I’m so stupid,” she cried quietly, rinsing conditioner from her hair. “I should’ve slammed the door in her face.”

By the time she got out, her eyes were swollen and tired.

She wrapped herself in her robe and pulled her phone from her jeans pocket before sitting on the closed toilet lid.

She opened Instagram and blocked Mel, then did the same on Snapchat.

On impulse, she opened Facebook, which she hadn’t checked since Thanksgiving, searched Mel’s name, and blocked her there too.

A few friend requests sat waiting.

One was from Naomi, one from a girl in her Ancient Philosophy class, and one from David.

She accepted all three.

David’s profile wasn’t very active, but there were a few pictures.

His profile photo was a candid shot of him walking along a boardwalk wearing a red-and-black Nike Tech Windrunner with a black Nike hat.

Constanza smiled faintly.

There was a Throwback Thursday picture of him and Dorian dressed up for what looked like an elementary school play. A few others showed award ceremonies, mini golf, and random outings with friends.

Then it hit her.

She never answered his message.

The one asking her to get lunch at Panera.

Her chest tightened.

She opened the thread and stared at the messages for a long moment before typing:

I really want to see you ❤️

Tears blurred her vision again as she hit send.

She didn’t expect him to answer this late.

And honestly, she didn’t wait around for one.

She gathered her dirty clothes from the floor, tossed them into the hamper, and climbed into bed.

Everything hurt.

Her body.

Her chest.

Her pride.

As she stared at the ceiling, she found herself thinking about David’s quiet voice, the way he looked at her, how easy he made everything feel.

He texted back. He listened. He was patient with her even when she probably didn’t deserve it.

David was the kind of person she should want.

So why didn’t he make her feel the way Mel did?

Why did safe feel so much less exciting?

Constanza rolled onto her side and pulled the blanket higher over her shoulder.

Maybe that was the problem.

Maybe sometimes, right felt wrong.