“Yeah.”
“So he’s your boyfriend?”
“Brother.”
“Oh, wow. I didn’t know you had a brother. Older or younger?”
I panted slowly. “I’m five minutes older.”
“You have a twin? Wow.” She leaned closer, peering at the screen. “He’s kind of cute. Where’s he going to school?”
I coughed on a sob.
“Oh, hey.” She cocked her head. “Are you okay? What did I say wrong?”
“Sean died,” I whispered. “Seven months ago today.”
She squirmed. Waited a few seconds. Sucked in a quick breath. “Can I ask how?”
“Testicular cancer.” The term scalded my throat.
A couple of girls crowded into the doorway. “Meggie? Sara? You coming?”
Meggie waved them away. “No, we’re not. You go on.”
When the common area was quiet again, she scooted closer to me, dropped an arm across my shoulders, and leaned her head against mine. “You don’t have to say anything, Sara. I won’t ask any more questions.”
“‘Kay.” I couldn’t have answered them anyway.
“I don’t have any experience with what happened to you. I don’t know what the right thing is to do or say. If you want to talk, though, I’ll listen. Or I can carry on the conversation by myself. Whatever you want. Or if you just want me to shut up and sit here, I can do that.”
“Thanks.” I closed the iPad. My attention was shot for the night, but I would accept her offer, to shut up and sit there.
“So, one last thing and then I promise to stop talking,” she said. “They have a great counseling service here. It helps. I’ve used them.”
“Already?” I turned my head and looked at her.
Her lips pinched. “College is nothing like home.”
“Completely true.”
We sank into the cushions of the sofa, shoulder to shoulder. There was silence for a while. Fifteen minutes? Thirty? But at last I stirred. She shifted to face me.
“Sara? What’s your food drug of choice? Ice cream? Smoothies?”
“Cappuccino.”
“Mine’s cookies, and Bill’s Cafe serves both. Want to come?”
I rose and picked up my tablet. “Let me take this upstairs, and I’ll meet you at the doors.”
She stood uncertainly. “Promise?”
“Yeah. Promise.” And I did come back down, because I’d discovered that I didn’t want to be alone.
We left the building, skirted the crowd at the bonfire, and continued walking through the silent campus. Meggie talked the whole way to Bill’s, telling me about life in her home state, her family, and anything else that didn’t require much response from me. Minutes later, we were standing before a cute barista in a blue Phish T-shirt.
“Chai tea and an oatmeal cookie for me,” Meggie said, “and a tall cappuccino for her.”
