“Well—” He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Not as fast as you.”

“You still got that gold medal.”

He moved his hand, almost as if he was about to reach for mine. But he stopped himself, running his fingers through his hair instead. “I told you I would,” he then said quietly.

It was the first time in weeks that we’d exchanged more than three words. It was also the first time I noticed how he still kept looking at my lips as I spoke. And that was it. The moment I decided to tell him I didn’t really care about going back to St. Yve’s for however long it took, if only it meant I got to be with him again.

“Ethan, I—”

“There you are!” Lucy interrupted me, all but jumping in between the two of us. “You said you were going to class,” she said, scolding him.

“I did? I mean, I…I was—am. I am,” he said, still looking at me.

“I haven’t seen you in ages, Thomas. How are you?” Lucy suddenly realized I was there.

“I’m, uh—I’m…good, Lucy. Just…on my way to the library,” I said slowly, looking at Ethan the whole time.

“Oh. Okay! I think we should go, don’t you?” She’d turned to Ethan, who didn’t acknowledge her.

I started walking backward, finding it difficult to break eye contact. But I did. I turned around and walked away.

The library was closed, of course. So I went back to reading my book and took my time making my way back to get my things. I was almost at the part where Ibbietta was told that Gris had been caught in the cemetery—my very favorite bit—when I looked up and all but froze. Ethan stood in front of my locker, still talking to Lucy.

As the bell rang for the last time I’d ever get to hear it, and the halls quickly thronged with students, I stayed put. Through the moving figures of those walking past me, I saw how he laughed at something she’d said. It made me smile; I’d missed witnessing his laugh, and even as I noticed that she was pulling on the tips of the fingers of his right hand, I still felt happy he was laughing again.

A few books; one or two graded papers I’d forgotten to take home; pens and pencils; as well as a Polaroid photo of Adam, Blake, Sam, and me. Those were the contents of my locker; some of the things I left behind on my last day at Grant Academy. I took Sartre with me though. I also made a mental note to recreate that photo with my friends.

*