When it was her turn to talk about her family, Karina said she’d had a brother who’d passed away when he was young, and she didn’t like talking about it. James looked sympathetic and didn’t ask for more. She felt comfortable with him, despite their differing backgrounds, or perhaps she loved his world so much, she longed to be part of it. That night, when he walked her to the door, patient with her slow pace, he kissed her again, longer this time.

The next morning, Karina woke early, desperate to talk to someone about the night before. It was Stephanie’s one day to sleep late, so Karina crept into the hallway to call Izzy on the East Coast. It turned out that Izzy was dating someone too, a med student from Spain.

“Alvaro studies all the time, like literally every waking hour, so he’s a good influence on me. And I make sure he takes study breaks.” Izzy giggled.

Karina then recounted every detail of her evening with James. “And the kiss . . .”

“Well? Does he kiss as well as he talks?” Izzy teased.

“No.” Karina paused. “Better.” They dissolved into laughter for a few moments. “But I don’t know, Izzy . . .”

“Why, what’s the problem? He sounds perfect for you!” Izzy said.

Karina knew something was holding her back, her fear that she didn’t really deserve someone like James. He didn’t truly know her, and if he did, he might not feel the same way. “I haven’t told him everything. You know, my family and stuff.”

“Well, you just met,” Izzy said. “Give it time. Do it when you’re comfortable.” When Karina didn’t respond, Izzy continued. “K, it’ll be fine, trust me.”

Karina spent the rest of the weekend alone, not even responding to Claire’s calls to join the group for dinner. She went running, read, ate by herself and wrote in her journal. By Sunday night, she’d made the conscious decision to allow herself to fall in love with James, to trust him. She fell hard, free-falling, weightless and airy, with all the courage it took to believe she would not hit the ground.

* * *

As a junior, James lived off campus in an apartment he shared with a friend. On weekends, Karina spent afternoons with him lying on his luxuriously double-sized futon or on the small, grassy hillside behind the complex, studying, reading books or just talking. They went to the farmers’ market, bought fresh strawberries that dripped sugary juice down their chins, warmed up frozen organic pizzas in the oven for dinner, tossed salads with bottled vinaigrette. Karina loved playing house, falling asleep in James’s arms at night and waking in his bed in the morning.

Karina had told James she was a virgin in an awkward exchange not long after they met, when he’d surprised her by slipping his hand down her pants while they were kissing on his bed. “What?” he asked softly as she turned away, uncomfortable. “No one’s ever done that to you before?” She shook her head and felt his chin on her shoulder from behind, his arms wrapped around her.