My eyes flick to Ben, and for the first time since the waiting room, I give his face a thorough examination.

1. Strong jawline with a clean shave.

2. A slight cleft in his chin.

3. Red-gold hair still maintaining its skillfully tousled appearance.

4. Broad shoulders filling his shirt out to perfection.

5. Straight white teeth bump his genuine smile up a notch. Probably flosses like a champ.

6. Still too attractive for his own good. And for my state of mind.

I’m completely sure I’ve never seen him before in my life. “What’s your major?”

“Political science.” Ben watches me studying him, unmoving, as if he knows I want him to keep still during my perusal.

“He’ll be applying to law school next year,” Mr. Gerhard adds, smiling at his son.

“So, you’re a junior?” I’m not completely sure how the whole pre-law situation works.

“Really, I should be a senior, but I’ve had to go part-time the past two years. You know … medical issues.” He gives a general wave to take in our surroundings.

I nod in understanding. It took Marcus an extra year to get his degree because of classes conflicting with treatment times.

“Maybe we can be study buddies.” Now’s a good time as any to reach out the hand of friendship. “I don’t understand a word of that legal mumbo jumbo, but I can hold up flash cards like a pro.” I use my most braggy voice, and Marcus snorts at my antics.

Ben grins broadly.

My goodness, that’s a smile that could run a car off the road.

“Sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Obviously, I can’t meet up with you all, being out here in Colorado. But I can give out my phone number. Text me anytime.” That offer comes from Fred, the image on the screen a half-second behind the audio.

After he’s done with his, we all rattle off our phone numbers, including Ben’s parents.

I think it’s sweet that they’re here with him. Our dad tends to keep a relatively hands-off approach to the situation, trusting us to update him on any new developments. Secretly, I think my adoptive father is self-conscious about his lack of a college degree, as if he’d only hold back the discussion by being here. I’d try setting him straight if it wouldn’t embarrass him more. Someone who can disassemble and rebuild a car engine and then rewire an entire house could never be considered uneducated.

“Well, if you’ve no further questions for us, then I think we’re done for today. Fred, you can talk to your doctor about setting up all your pretests in Denver. Holly, you can stop by the front desk to arrange your appointment times.” Dr. Williams ends the videoconference after we wave good-bye and stands to lead us from the room.

We file out, and I head toward the front desk but stop when I feel someone grip my hand.

Mrs. Gerhard lingers and clutches my palm. “Miss Foster—”