By May, all the cherry blossoms on campus had long fallen, replaced by rows of lush, leafy plane trees. Right before finals week, Alexander took me to a farm on the outskirts of the city. He said Elena Grant had ordered a batch of grass-fed beef there, so he was going to pick it up, and he might as well take me along to see the spring countryside.
The drive took an hour. He'd stuffed the passenger seat with a bag of snacks, pre-cut fruit, and a tiny box of tiramisu, with a sticky note stuck to the side. "Eat on the way, don't go hungry."
I leaned against the car window, watching the fields flying by outside. Vibrant green wheat seedlings stretched all the way to the horizon, rippling in the wind like a rolling velvet blanket. Alexander was playing music from a playlist he'd made himself.
