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Description
He walked into the student center and looked around the crowded tables of Wareham Court, trying to find her. The students were buzzing while the TV monitors blared their song choices. The smell of hamburgers cooking on the grill permeated the air as he looked up over everyone's heads, searching for her. She was sitting in the far back corner, face buried in her computer. He sighed to himself and walked to the back of the court.
            "Hey," she said, as he sat down in the boot next to her.
            "Hey," he said. He dug his computer out of his bag and watched it boot up as he took his coat off. It was still snowing outside. He could see it falling from the wall of windows to his left.
            It was a struggle to talk over the music and the voices. Even though they were right next to each other, they couldn't hear very well. He repeated himself four times before she understood anything. It was awkward, difficult; and unlike before, they couldn't lean in close and twitter in each other's ears like people who love each other do.
            It was even harder to find a topic of conversation. For a little while they just sat there and looked at their computers. A new song came on the TV. He recognized it as one of their songs. It was one of the sappy songs that they listened to that had lovers proclaiming how happy they were and saying how they were going to be together forever. He kept his head low, embarrassed and not quite knowing what to do now.
            "I'm finally doing my laundry," he said, chuckling a little bit. He was practically famous for not ever doing such a  simple chore. "I even organized it into piles for you. I know how it bugs you when I don't."
            It was true. She hated how he did laundry. He threw in dark colors with dark colors and whites with sheets and colors with black clothes. He didn't really care about how it all went in as long as it all came out smelling fine. She took more care with her laundry. Organized piles of whites, towels and sheets, colors, a separate pile of black clothes and blue clothes; everything was so organized, so typical of her. He smiled at her as the song played, the music video on the screens surrounding them on both sides. He waited for her to respond.
            There was a lull in the noise as the song ended, and she said, "Not anymore."
            Not anymore. The song was over. And so were they. The only thing that kept going was the sounds of other people's voices talking in the court. Happy people. People who weren't them, sitting right next to each other.