“So, uh...” My throat feels like sandpaper as I scramble for literally anything to say. My brain runs through every possible topic before landing on the most pathetic option in human history. “Nice weather today, huh?”
Fucking kill me.
I want to punch myself in the face.
Alex looks up like I’ve thrown her a lifeline, even though her cheeks are still pink. “Yeah, it’s... nice,” she squeaks out, glancing toward the window.
We sit there like two idiots, trying to look anywhere but at each other. Since when did having arms feel this weird? What the fuck do I usually do with my hands?
Suddenly, Alex jumps up like her ass is on fire. “I should probably go,” she says, looking somewhere over my left shoulder. “Got a... thing. For class.”
“Right, yeah.” I nod a bit too enthusiastically. “Me too. Things. Many... things.”
Someone please put me out of my misery.
Alex starts packing up her stuff, and I’m pretty sure I just royally screwed up one of the best friendships I’ve ever had. But then she stops, looks back at me.
“Hey, Freddie?”
“Yeah?”
A little smile plays at her lips. “You’re still the biggest dork on campus.”
ALEX
THEN – FRESHMAN YEAR – DECEMBER
I’m huddled in the back corner of the student center cafeteria, nursing my third hot chocolate of the day. Outside, snow is falling in thick flakes, turning campus into something straight out of a winter wonderland postcard. I’ve just finished my voluntary lab work with Professor Bam and convinced her to let me shadow her for the rest of the year.
The Environmental Sciences lab is my favorite place on campus. Unlike the sterile white labs in the Chemistry building, ours is a colorful chaos of ongoing experiments. Growth chambers hum along the back wall, housing everything from native grass species to soil samples from contaminated sites. The whole room smells of earth and green things, with an underlying hint of whatever someone spilled last week.
Tara sits across from me, demolishing a mountain of sushi despite the bitter cold outside. She’s unbothered, her focus entirely on her food, while the cozy hum of the café muffles the harshness of winter just beyond the glass.
“Look at this,” I say, sliding my laptop across the table. The GSRI website fills the screen, showcasing their latest project—a revolutionary water filtration system set to transform mining communities across the country. “This is what I want to do. Not just study environmental problems, but actually solve them.”
Tara reaches across to squeeze my arm, her eyes warm with encouragement. “You will.”
“The acceptance rate is under two percent,” I admit, swallowing the weight of that statistic. “And that’s just for the summer internship.”
She grins. “Good thing you’re in the top one percent of stubborn environmental warriors.”
I can’t help but smile back.
“So,” she says, mid-bite of a California roll, “you and Freddie, huh?”
I slump in my chair with a groan. “Not this again. We’re friends, Tara. Just friends.”
“Uh-huh.” Her tone suggests she’d sooner believe in the Loch Ness Monster. “That’s why you’ve been joined at the hip for weeks now.” She punctuates her words by pointing a chopstick at me in mock accusation.
“We have not,” I protest, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as my brain unhelpfully serves up a mental reel of late-night study sessions, long debates in crowded coffee shops, and whispered arguments in the library that got us shushed by the librarian. When did Freddie start taking up so much of my life?
Tara leans in, chopstick still poised, nearly spilling her soy sauce. “Troy says Freddie’s a player, you know. Like, Olympic-level player. Gold medal in breaking hearts.”
I stir my hot chocolate with more force than necessary. “Troy should mind his own business,” I mutter, ignoring the slight twist in my chest. “Besides, I know about Freddie’s... reputation.It’s not like that with us. Men and women can be friends, you know.”
Tara nearly chokes on her rainbow roll, trying to suppress a laugh. “Oh, I know they can. I just doubt that you two are.”
I roll my eyes so hard I half expect to see my own brain. “You’re being ridiculous. Freddie and I are just... compatible. Intellectually,” I add hastily, as Tara’s eyebrows climb skyward.
