“Wren,” I say. “This is my roommate, Wesley. And Judd, Arlo, Eric, and Jeff.” I nod to each guy as I introduce them, then pause before adding, “Guys, this is Wren.”
I want to add some other descriptor to the introductions, ideallywith the wordmyincluded, but I’m not sure which to use.
“Nice to meet you,” Eric says, the other guys adding variations of the same sentiment.
“I gotta head to the train station to pick up Austin,” Wesley says. “See you losers later.”
“Guess this was your stop anyway,” Judd comments, nodding to the entrance of Faber Hall, my dorm.
“Make sure he comes to the party tonight, Wren,” Arlo adds before following the other guys. He winks at me, mouthing,You’re welcome.
Wren glances over as the guys walk away. “They’re basically how you described them.”
I nod. “So … you’re here.”
“Yeah. I knew your dorm, so … I was debating if I should text you or just sneak in with someone. Then you showed up.”
I nod again. “I more meant, you’re in the US.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, I landed … this morning.” She hesitated before adding those last two words, like she wasn’t sure she should divulge them.
I’m so in love with Wren Kensington that the enormity of it terrifies me, and she’s nervous about admitting she came straight here to see me. I hate that, and I hate all the ways I’ve contributed to it. All the times I’ve held back because I was scared or sad or simply trying to protect myself from the outcome that always felt inevitable—losing her. I wish we’d been older when we met, that I’d been immediately ready for the commitment. But I also know I wouldn’t give up a single second I’ve known her.
I’m done, I decide. Wren won’t leave this campus without knowing exactly what she means to me.
“Want a tour?” I ask, realizing it’s been way too long since I said anything.
“Sure.”
“Okay, well …” I turn to face the brick building we’re standing in front of, and she mimics me. “This is Faber Hall. My, uh, dorm. I can show you my room later.”
“Subtle,” Wren says.
I laugh. “It’s barely more spacious than my truck.”
“Well, we made that work.”
“I know. It’s the reason I’ll never get rid of it.” I nod left. “Most of the academic buildings are this way.”
I hold a hand out. Wren takes it, threading our fingers together as we start walking.
It’s weird that she’s on campus. I’m accustomed to memories of Wren collected elsewhere—the marina, my house, the beach—but this is one aspect of my life she’s never witnessed in person. Equally strange is how little of Wren’s life I’ve witnessed in person. I’ve never toured her campus. Never visited her in the city. Never seen where she grew up.
“Jeff is from Brooklyn,” I comment as we walk.
“Cool.” She’s distracted, watching a guy skateboard past.
“He wants us all to visit him over the summer.”
Now, I have Wren’s attention. “Oh, yeah? Are you going to?”
“Probably. There’s no real plan. But probably.”
She nods. “Rory is finishing law school in a couple of weeks. My parents are hosting a graduation party for her. At our Hamptons house.”
“Cool.”
Wren’s lips twitch before she points at a building ahead. “What’s that?”
