Monday came back with the specific energy of a week that had things in it.
BIO 215. Practical write-ups. A tutorial I'd been avoiding scheduling. The ordinary machinery of a semester that didn't pause for weekends away or quiet Sunday mornings or whatever had shifted between a boy and a girl on a drive back from somewhere that mattered.
I got on with it.
That was what I did.
Zane was at the bottom of the stairs at 8am — same as always, hands in his pockets, looking at his phone with that particular expression of someone who was reading something and not finding it interesting.
He looked up when I appeared.
Something in his face settled.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi," I said back.
We fell into step.
The morning was cooler than it had been — the kind of cool that suggested something was shif
