Now, by the time I start the walk to the Meteorology Hub, backpack in tow, and see a familiar blue Ram sidled up in street parking, its familiar owner leaning against the side, I’m ready to start swinging fists.

‘Morning.’ Colt adjusts today’s backwards cap, so his hair sticks out from behind. The weather is chillier than usual, so he wears an orange OKC hoodie and jeans. If I didn’t know any more about him, I’d think he actually went here.

‘Morning,’ I grumble in return. He shows no sign of noticing that I look like I’ve just rolled out of bed to be here, or that I have zero shits to give at the moment. He just beams brightly. What a goon.

‘The nice thing about doing my master’s online is that I get to make my own schedule, so I thought I’d walk you. If you’re okay with that.’

Walk me? I want to say. How can you act as if it’s so easy to walk with me when I watched you turn your back on me like it was light work years ago?

‘It’s …’ I check my watch. ‘Nine-twenty, and pretty much everything that has happened so far today has been a series of events I was in no way okay with. Might as well up the ante. Add a sprinkle of fake girlfriend duty to the mix.’

Colt’s face looks like it goes through about fifty different emotions in trying to decipher the blunt sarcasm I’ve thrown at him. Okay, so maybe the guy’s trying to be nice. Maybe I feel a smidge of remorse for being a menace. But after all the bad days his departure caused me, I figure he owes me enough that he can put up with one of those bad days, live and in person.

Silently, I turn towards the quad, he turns towards the quad, and I hike up my backpack. We walk side by side, matching our steps without a word. It’s the start of the ten-minute lull between classes when the campus fills up with students cramming sidewalks to the brim, and as we near the Diamond, our four-pointed quad named ever so originally, the exodus begins, college kids filing down the walkways with headphones on and coffees in hand. The stares are inevitable – some calculating, some gleeful. I glance at Colt, far enough away from me that you could put a May between us.

God, screw this.

Against my better nature, I close the space between us so our shoulders just barely brush. Colt’s gaze skims my arm before sneaking up to meet my eyes.

‘I know play number one is supposed to be distance,’ he whispers with a half-smile, ‘but it seems an awful lot like you’re using my nuggets tactic right now.’