I don’t get far when I spot Leila alone in one of the sculpting classrooms, nose buried in a book, sitting on the ledge of the window overlooking the snowy campus.

Freezing in place, I contemplate my options: turn around slowly, tiptoe quickly out of sight, or say something. She hasn’t been in class in weeks, and I haven’t seen her around, so I could easily book it down the hall. But I’d be lying if I said I’m not worried about her.

“I realized I never thanked you for that night a few weeks back,” I say loudly, even though I don’t need to because it’s eerily quiet. “When you called Rae for me. So, thanks.” I smile and mean it.

Leila looks up, a bit startled, and then her eyes widen, giving me a window in. She nods slowly and offers a terse smile back. “I knew she needed to be there for you. That you’d want her there.”

There’s a hint of jealousy—because it’s Leila—but it’s earnest. Say what I will about her; she’ll always have a piece of me. Or she did, once, and we share a history that allows us to know pieces of the other.

“Are you okay? You looked pretty shaken up that night. I would’ve checked in on you, but …” She doesn’t finish. She doesn’t have to.

“I’ve been better,” I say.

“I hadn’t realized you and Jack Reid were a thing. The girls in our dorm have been trying to figure him out for months, but it makes sense.” She pauses for a few beats then says, “I heard what happened at the ski mountain. Dorm chatter. His roommate, Rhett, has a big mouth.”

Leila always did immerse herself in idle gossip.

“We were.” Part of me wants to walk farther into the room, pull up a chair, and talk the way we used to in high school. But we’re not there anymore, and opening up about Jack with her feels wrong in a way I can’t quite place. So I evade. “What’re you reading?” I lean against the doorframe.

She looks up, a momentary smile flashing on her lips. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” She holds the spine with dried clay molded to her fingers. “The freshman drama majors are putting it on in the spring. Thought I’d audition. Branch out, or return to my roots, or … something.” It’s easy to forget how much Leila used to love acting, especially when she’s cycled through so many dreams: acting, sculpting, being a high-powered CEO, now animating.

I nod, unsure if she wants to talk to me or not. I take a chance because the thing about having pieces of each other is that no matter what happens between the two of us, we’ll always care about the other. “You were in that … freshman year, right?”