My chest felt tight.
“That looked intense,” Priya said.
I turned back to find all three of them watching me with varying degrees of concern and curiosity.
“It’s nothing.”
“That was definitely not nothing,” Jake said.
The host’s voice cut through before I had to answer. “Next question: In what year did…?”
I wrote down an answer I wasn’t sure was right and tried to focus on anything except the weight of Seth’s absence beside me.
Trivia wound down around eleven.The host announced final scores—we’d placed third, which felt like a victory considering I’d spent half the night distracted. Around us, teams were settling tabs and gathering coats. Jake stretched and yawned, already pulling up a rideshare app.
“I’ve got an eight a.m.,” he said. “I’m calling it.”
Priya grabbed her jacket from the back of the booth. “Same. Tanner, you need a ride?”
“I’m good. I’ll walk.”
“It’s over a mile and freezing out.” It wasn’t actually that cold, but anything under sixty was chilly to Priya.
“I could use the air.”
She exchanged a look with Jake that I pretended not to notice. “Okay. Text when you get home?”
“Yeah.”
Dev was already halfway to the door, phone pressed to his ear. Jake and Priya followed, leaving me alone in the booth with empty glasses and crumpled answer sheets. I should’ve left with them. Should’ve taken the easy out and gone home before?—
“Hey.”
I looked up. Seth stood at the edge of the table, hands in his pockets. Behind him, I could see Marcus and the others pulling on jackets, clearly wrapping up their own night.
“Hey,” I said.
“Your friends left?”
“Early classes tomorrow.”
He nodded, then glanced back toward his teammates. Marcus caught his eye and made a gesture—you good?—and Seth nodded. Marcus said something to the others, and they started filtering toward the exit.
“Can we talk?” Seth asked. “Just for a few minutes.”
My throat went tight. “Yeah. Okay.”
The late October night was cool enough to justify the flannel I’d thrown on earlier. We walked around the side of the building to the patio area—empty this time of year, string lights dark above wooden picnic tables. I leaned against the railing and stared at the parking lot, trying to figure out where to start.
Seth didn’t push. Just stood beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him, waiting.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said. “For avoiding you. That wasn’t fair.”
“It’s not a matter of fair. I want to understand what’s happening.” He turned to face me. “Did I do something wrong? That morning on the couch?—”
“I already told you that you didn’t do anything wrong.” The words came out too fast. “That’s not— It’s not about you.”
“Then what’s it about?”
