Ethan
Neither of us moves for a long second, the field empty around us, gold light fading toward dusk, the space between us thinner than it's been all day. I can feel my own pulse in my throat, can see the same nerves flickering behind Noah's eyes, both of us right there again, right at the edge of it.
"Ethan! Noah! Get over here, quick!"
Priya's voice cuts across the field from near the stage, urgent enough that we both startle apart on instinct, years of being summoned by authority figures kicking in before either of us can stop it. We jog over to find her practically vibrating with excitement, phone in hand.
"President Whitfield's office just called," she says. "He wants both of you at a press reception tonight. Apparently word about the total's already reached the board of trustees
