We head back to Kennedy Hall first to gather books and grab our backpacks. It’s a brief stop, and then we walk through the center of campus toward the massive, imposing library, chatting easily about classes and assignments. Laughing at the other hungover students just beginning to emerge out into the light of day.

We snag a coveted table on the second floor that overlooks the heart of campus. A broad expanse of green grass spreads out before us, only interrupted by the tidy walkways that cut across to connect the surrounding sidewalks.

Katie keeps her word and doesn’t mention Jace again as we each unpack our books and papers on the polished wooden table. I put in a pair of headphones and try to focus on creating the outline of the paper due Tuesday. I flip through the thin pages of the novel I’m writing the essay on, attempting to ignore the students passing by our table and the slowly awakening campus visible outside.

I eventually tune out the distracting activity, but thoughts of Jace continue to invade my mind.

I thought getting Katie to drop the topic of Jace Dawson would allow me to forget about him.

Unfortunately, it’s my own thoughts I can’t seem to shake.

CHAPTER TEN

When I wake up on Monday morning, it’s earlier than usual. I went to bed before ten, still tired from Saturday night and drained from a long Sunday mostly spent in the library. However, I know my inordinately early wake-up has more to do with the decision I have to make this morning rather than an early bedtime.

I reach out and pull the curtain away from the lone window situated between my bed and Katie’s, revealing an overcast, dreary sky. I let the fabric drop back into place and flop back down on my bed to stare up at the white plaster ceiling, warring internally with myself. I left Jace’s house on Sunday morning determined I wouldn’t venture anywhere near the elm tree where we used to meet, but my resolve has gradually chipped away over the past day to the point where it hardly exists anymore.

I’m still annoyed with Jace.

I’m still embarrassed by both my actions and his rebuff.

I also still want to see him.

Remaining under the warm covers for a while longer is my only option to put the decision off longer. Finally, I climb out of bed and go through my usual morning routine before dressing in a pair of leggings and a lightweight polyester jacket. I pull my hair up in a high ponytail and zip my phone in my jacket pocket before heading outside. The morning air is brisk, saturated by the light drizzle that’s just started to fall.

I hadn’t made a conscious decision about my route, but my feet turn automatically as I start to jog.

Several minutes later, the towering elm tree appears. Its vast form is silhouetted against the dark storm clouds spreading languidly across the sky.