Josh Volkov
you and your ex goes to the same college
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Rhea stepped out of the cab, a tote bag slung over her shoulder, scanning the unfamiliar faces. She walked with her suitcases and inhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing heart. This is it. Fresh start. Clean slate.
The check-in line moved slowly, giving her time to glance around, taking in faces she didn’t recognize until she did.
Her breath caught when she saw him.
Just a silhouette in the distance.
Back turned.
Hands tucked into his pockets.
Talking to someone. It couldn’t be. No way. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her. But then— The stupidly familiar way he ran a hand through his hair.
That laugh–low, deep, careless like she’d heard it a thousand times before, against her neck, over the phone at 2 a.m., in the hallways of their high school. And that jaw. Sharp. Defined. Etched in her memory like a scar she thought had faded. Her heart stopped. As if the universe heard her denial and laughed, he turned—unintentionally. Slowly. Their eyes met. He froze.
She did too. It was him. Josh. His expression shifted from confusion to disbelief to something unreadable. His lips parted, but no sound came. She hadn’t seen him in months, but it felt like yesterday—and a lifetime ago. He looked older. Broader. Still him. Still the boy she used to love.
Back turned.
Hands tucked into his pockets.
Talking to someone. It couldn’t be. No way. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her. But then— The stupidly familiar way he ran a hand through his hair.
That laugh–low, deep, careless like she’d heard it a thousand times before, against her neck, over the phone at 2 a.m., in the hallways of their high school. And that jaw. Sharp. Defined. Etched in her memory like a scar she thought had faded. Her heart stopped. As if the universe heard her denial and laughed, he turned—unintentionally. Slowly. Their eyes met. He froze.
She did too. It was him. Josh. His expression shifted from confusion to disbelief to something unreadable. His lips parted, but no sound came. She hadn’t seen him in months, but it felt like yesterday—and a lifetime ago. He looked older. Broader. Still him. Still the boy she used to love.