He didn’t say our relationship would survive a term apart. There was no question of that. The adults in our families might worry that we were too serious, that one of us would get hurt. Aunt Lauren likes to remind me that the guy you meet at fifteen usually isn’t the one you end up with. But sometimes it is. It just is, and there’s no question of that. Not for me.

“You aren’t the only one who doesn’t want to be separated,” I said.

“I know.” He kissed me, starting as just a quick press of the lips before turning deeper, arms going around each other, moving as close as we could, as if already thinking of that parting. When he finally eased off, he said, “But would it be okay? As a solution?”

“It would,” I said, and pulled him back into a kiss.