‘All right. Good. Good. We’re together. We live together. We need to think through all the problems that could cause. Let me give you some scenarios, and you tell me how you think we should handle them.’ I push up my sleeves. I was cold and he gave me his blue hoodie to put on. It feels even more snuggly than I remember.

‘This feels like a job interview,’ he says.

‘It’s more serious than that.’

‘Wait,’ he says, then leans over and puts on his glasses. ‘I’m ready.’

I roll my eyes but I can’t help smiling. Smiling might be my default for a while. His too. I notice he keeps grinning.

‘Scenario one. We have a huge fight. We want to storm off and not talk to each other for days. What do we do?’ I say.

‘We do what you did at the start of the year. Hide out in our rooms and ignore each other but pretend to be normal around Harper, so it’s not awkward for her.’

‘All right. You’re not mad at me, but you’re sick of the sight of me. You need space. What do you do?’

‘Go for a long run.’ He scoops up some rice with his spoon, and a single grain falls off and into his bed. ‘What was the code word Henry said we used? Wackadoo. I’ll say, wackadoo, and then go for a long run.’

‘You need more time away from me than that,’ I say, picking the grain out of his sheets and putting it on the tray.

‘I’ll say wackadoo and go and stay with my friends for a weekend,’ he says.

‘Okay. You want to cheat on me but you can’t bring anyone home. How do you do it?’

‘Easy. I go to their place. Should I still say wackadoo before I go, or should we have a different code for that?’

‘Jesse. I’m serious.’

‘Do you think these questions are a healthy way to start a relationship?’

‘Yes. I do. I like to be prepared for the worst.’

He puts his bowl down. ‘Let me give you a scenario okay?’

‘Okay.’ I fold my legs under me. ‘Go.’

‘I tell you I love you, and you let yourself be loved, and nothing bad happens.’ His voice is soft but his eyes are burning and serious.

‘Oh,’ I say quietly. The way he said I love you just then, I might be thinking about that for the rest of my life. ‘That would be nice. But—’

‘But?’ he says, his expression gentle.

‘But good things are scary.’ I don’t know how to explain it better than that.

‘Why?’