Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle thumbtacked to the bulletin board, seemed to blur around the edges. Sarah barely registered the words – "Financial Difficulties," "Closing at Semester's End" – because her mind was elsewhere. Specifically, it was on the way Liam had smiled at her in the library yesterday, a shy crinkle at the corners of his eyes that had sent a jolt, a current, through her. She felt her chest tighten, the paper's harshness fading as she remembered the way he'd leaned in, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of sandalwood cologne and the pages of old books.

A sudden, sharp giggle escaped her. This couldn't be happening. Not now. How would she see him? His usual afternoon library spot, gone. The shared frustration of a philosophy lecture, over. Her stomach lurched. The reality of it sunk in, a cold dread replacing the warm glow that had been clinging to her all week.

She needed to find him. Now. Ignoring the growing crowd, the hushed whispers of panic, she spun on her heel and practically sprinted towards the stacks. He'd have to know. They needed to make plans. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be the end.