It was Thursday. One day after my lunch with him.
After our History of the Roman Empire lecture, Nolan and I went to the dining hall. We grabbed our food and saw Lia at our usual table. She immediately decided we were having a picnic.
Nolan and I looked at each other.
“I don’t—” Nolan began.
But before he could even finish what he was saying, Lia had begun redistributing everyone's food into takeaway containers she'd suddenly produced from her bag. Like she'd been planning this all along, which, knowing Lia, she probably had.
"I didn't say I was going along with this," he said.
"You don’t have a choice, Nolan." She snapped the lid closed on his container and handed it back to him. "South lawn. Let's go."
He looked at me.
I shrugged. "I stopped arguing with her two weeks ago."
He
