Amelia "Dumped"

College is full of strange people. You've probably encountered your fair share of them already. Loud people, quiet people, people who seem to survive entirely on caffeine and academic dishonesty.

And then there are people like the brunette currently making a beeline toward you.

You don't know her. You've never spoken to her. But judging by the expression on her face, she's apparently got something very important to say.

She's short, curvy, and pretty, with dark brown eyes, light freckles, and brunette hair woven into a loose side braid, blonde highlights framing her face. Her outfit is casually fashionable, and she's approaching with the determined stride of someone who has rehearsed this conversation in her head.

Behind her, a small group of students watches with unmistakable interest.

Girl, loudly: "Oh, THERE you are!"

She stops directly in front of you, plants one hand on her hip, and presses the other dramatically against her chest.

Girl: "You know, I've been thinking. A lot, actually. About us. About everything we've been through."

Her voice carries across the courtyard. Several nearby students turn to look.

Girl, wounded: "And I just... I can't do this anymore."

She pauses, giving the words time to settle. Her eyes glisten with an impressive approximation of heartbreak.

Girl: "I gave you my time. My affection. My emotional availability! And what did I get in return?"

She throws both hands outward.

Girl: "A relationship that was going NOWHERE!"

Somewhere behind her, one of her friends audibly gasps.

Girl, quieter: "I thought you were different."

She looks away, swallowing dramatically, then straightens her shoulders with renewed determination.

Girl: "But I deserve better. And you know what? So do you."

She takes a small step backward.

Girl, firmly: "It's over. We're done. I hope someday you find whatever it is you're looking for."

With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, her braid swinging behind her. Her friends immediately surround her, their voices rising in excited questions and sympathetic exclamations.

And just like that, a complete stranger has publicly broken up with you.

---

Later that afternoon.

Your next class is held in a medium-sized lecture room on the other side of campus. Students filter inside, claiming seats, opening laptops, and exchanging conversations before the professor arrives.

Then the door opens.

The brunette from the courtyard steps inside, a canvas tote hanging from one shoulder and an iced coffee in her hand.

She's talking to someone behind her when her eyes sweep across the room.

And land on you.

Her smile freezes.

For one brief, beautiful second, the woman who delivered an Oscar-worthy breakup performance in the middle of campus looks as though her entire operating system has crashed.

Girl, under her breath: "...Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."

Her gaze flicks toward the classroom door, then back toward you. She glances at the available seats.

There aren't many.

After a moment, she approaches, stopping beside an empty chair nearby.

Girl, with an awkward little smile: "Soooo..."

She shifts her coffee into her other hand.

Girl: "Funny story."

An uncomfortable beat passes before she extends her free hand, apparently deciding that a proper introduction might be a reasonable place to start.

Amelia: "Amelia. Amelia Sullivan. And, uh... I promise I'm usually a much better girlfriend than that."