“I don’t think so. His stop was after mine,” I murmured, rolling my pen between my fingers.

Because my stop was first, I was curious if he resided near the university, and if I might run into him again. I cringed at the thought of that prospect. What would I possibly say to him? “Hi, Jared. Remember me? The Alice Cooper look-alike that you shared an awkward cab ride with for twenty minutes?”

“What’s with the face?” Kim’s expression screwed in a way I could only assume mirrored my own.

“Nothing. I just…,” I shrugged, “he probably thought I was nuts.”

“That could possibly be the most boring story I’ve ever heard,” Kim said, deflated.

“I tried to spare you the non-details. He did have a nice smile, though,” I mused.

Kim looked up at me with renewed interest and opened her mouth to say something, but Professor Hunter walked in the room. I hadn’t noticed the numerous empty seats. Some of the students were tossing their papers on his desk and leaving the way they came instead of meandering to their seats as usual.

“What are you still doing here? Turn in your papers and get out. Your grades will be posted on the web site. Happy Holidays,” he said to those of us still peppered across the room.

As finals week came to an end, the nightly ritual of curling into a ball to cry seemed to be a permanent fixture in my life. The first week of break, I had a bit more control over the emptiness when it hit. After that, there were a few nights that I escaped the sadness all together. The grief found new strength Christmas night, but to my relief falling asleep without tears became a bit easier after the holidays came to a close.

I found it disconcerting that although time provided some relief, I was also further from when Jack was a part of my life. Each passing day was that much longer since I’d been able to call him or hear his voice. With time, relief and apprehension intertwined.

When the spring semester began, Jared had become a blurred image from a day I wanted to file away, so it was a surprise to see him standing a few feet away from me in line at the Urban Outfitters off campus. I wasn’t confident that it was him at first, but when he accepted his receipt from the sales person and turned, I stared at him long enough to be certain. He didn’t suffer from the same hesitation that I did.

“Nina?”

I felt my eyebrows rise while I tried to think of something besides ‘yes’ to reply with. My mouth opened, but nothing came out.