I pick the honest one that doesn’t make me feel like I’m handing my ribs over.
“Better than I expected,” I say quietly.
Wren nods. “Because of Grayson?”
I hesitate.
“Partly,” I admit. “He’s…steady.”
Wren’s eyes soften in a way that makes my chest ache again. “You deserve steady.”
I look down at my hands, because if I hold her gaze too long, I might get emotional, and I refuse to cry in my dorm room like it’s a tradition.
Wren clears her throat, switching back to lighter again, like she’s tossing me a rope.
“Okay,” she says. “Serious question.”
I brace. “Oh no.”
“Are you wearing Grayson’s jersey to the game on Tuesday?” she asks, dead serious.
Heat crawls up my neck. “Wren.”
“That’s a yes,” she decides.
“It’s not a yes,” I lie.
Wren points at me. “It’s absolutely a yes.”
I groan. “I might.”
Wren’s smile turns feral. “Iconic.”
I roll my eyes so hard it hurts, but I can’t stop the tiny smile tugging at my mouth because…I’ve thought about it too. Not because I want to be a spectacle. Because I want to choose something that’s mine. Wren watches the shift like she notices everything, even when she pretends she doesn’t.
She says softly, “I love this for you.”
“Don’t make it a thing.”
Wren holds up her hands. “Not a thing. Just…cute.”
A beat passes, quieter now.
Then Wren exhales slowly. “Also, I’m trying to figure out where I’m living.”
I blink. “Right. Tell me.”
Wren makes a face. “I can’t decide between living close to campus or moving back home with my mom.”
“Your mom’s place is like…thirty minutes away,” I say.
“I know,” she groans. “Which is annoying. But she’d like having me there. She’s still struggling.”
Then I take a breath, because there’s a question sitting on my tongue that I’ve been carrying since the day I found out she was coming back for good.
I look at her. “Can I ask you something?”
Wren’s brows lift. “That sounds like trouble.”
