MasukThe next Thursday, at their table under the sagging window, Chase turned his phone around to show her his calendar. Every Thursday from seven to ten was blocked off in blue for the rest of the semester. One letter: G."I cleared these," he said. "Thursdays are ours. I need you to protect them too, okay? This only works if we both take it seriously.""Of course," she said. "Yeah. Of course."Freddy had mentioned a movie night on the second floor next Thursday. Gemma had already said maybe. She'd text her later.Chase smiled and slid her newest draft across the table. Green ink covered the first page. In the margin beside her ending, he'd written: Almost. You're so close to being great.She bent over the pages, already reaching for her pen, already wanting to close the gap.It didn't feel like losing anything. It felt like being chosen.***October came in cold, and the nights got long.Thursdays stopped ending at ten. They closed down the library reading room, and when the librarian fl
The night of that very first dinner at Juniper, she'd called Tony from the window seat, still a little warm from the wine. The bar noise came through the phone, and the jukebox, and Kyle yelling at somebody in the background about a tab."Guess what I had for dinner," she said."Let me guess. Sonic.""Duck." She pulled one leg under herself. "With cherry sauce. And this cheese thing called burrata, it's like mozzarella but it's got cream inside, you'd hate it. And wine. One glass. At a place with tablecloths."There was a pause on the line. Then Tony laughed, warm and low. "Duck? Like from the pond? You used to cry when your daddy went out after the mallards.""It's different. It's French.""Uh-huh. Who took you to the French duck place?""Just a friend from the program." She didn't know why she said it that way. A friend. She didn't say Chase. She didn't say he. "A bunch of us went.""Well." She could hear him smiling. "Next time you're home, I'll take you out to the pond and get you
The fourth favor was dinner."You've been here a month," Chase said at the end of their Thursday session, packing up his tablet. "Where have you eaten?"Gemma counted on her fingers. "The dining hall. The pizza place. The Sonic out on the highway. That burger place across from the bookstore." She thought. "Oh, and the Taco Bell. Twice."Chase stared at her like she'd confessed to a crime. "That's it?""What's wrong with Sonic? Sonic has tots.""Nothing's wrong with Sonic." He was trying not to laugh. "Sonic is fine. Sonic is a national treasure. But Gemma." He leaned across the table. "There's a whole world out there that isn't fried and served in a paper bag. Saturday. I'm taking you to dinner. A real one."He took her to a place called Juniper, on a side street downtown, in an old brick building that had once been a bank. The windows were tall and dark, and the tables were small and close together, with white tablecloths and little candles in glass jars, and every single person in t
The third favor was the sweater.It was the last week of September, and the mornings had started to turn cold in a way Oklahoma mornings never did, the air thin and bright and smelling like pine. Gemma had dug out the sweater her mother had knit her the Christmas she was sixteen. It was a big, soft, mustard-yellow cable-knit, with a slightly lopsided collar where Dee had dropped a stitch and decided she liked it. Gemma had worn it to every football game her junior and senior years. It smelled like her mother's cedar chest. She wore it to the library for their Thursday session.Chase looked up when she sat down. He looked at her for a moment longer than usual. Then he set his stylus down."Can I say something," he said, "and you won't throw your coffee at me?"She laughed. "Depends on what it is.""That color." He tilted his head, studying her the way he studied a paragraph. "It's doing you no favors."Gemma looked down at herself. "My mom made this.""I can tell. It's beautiful. The
On Thursday, at their table under the sagging window, Chase pulled up an email on his tablet and turned it around to show her."Friday night," he said. "Dr. Hale's reading from her new collection at the library. Seven o'clock, in the reading room. Very small, invite-only, mostly faculty and the journal staff. She asked me to bring you specifically." His eyes were bright. "Gem, you're going to love it. She's reading the one about her mother's hands. It's the best thing she's ever written."Gemma looked at the email. Then she looked up."I can't," she said. "I'm going to the bonfire with Freddy."Chase laughed, like she'd made a joke. "The football thing?""The football thing.""Gemma." He said it patiently, the way you'd talk to a kid who wanted cake for dinner. "It's a bunch of drunk freshmen standing around a fire. You can do that any night of the week. This is Hale. This is a room full of people who could change your whole life.""I know." She made herself keep looking at him. "But
She'd come out of Forms of Creative Nonfiction at two in the afternoon, dragging, and there he'd be on the bench outside Hawthorne Hall with a second cup, iced this time, because it had been a warm day. She'd stay up until one rewriting a paragraph for workshop and walk into the library the next morning gray-faced and squinting, and before she'd even set her bag down, the cup would be sliding across the table toward her. On the first truly cold morning, when frost furred the grass on the quad and Gemma came out of the guesthouse in a hoodie because she hadn't unpacked her coat yet, he was waiting on the steps with a hot chocolate. Three pumps of caramel. Extra whipped cream. A crosshatch on top."Too cold for espresso," he said, handing it over. "Even for you."She never once saw him buy them. She never saw him stand in line at Marco's cart. They were just there, warm in her hands, whenever she needed one. Sometimes before she knew she needed one.She didn't think it was weird. Not rea
Gemma sat with her legs under her on her bed, waiting for Freddy to get out of the shower, absently scrolling through her phone while the bathroom fan hummed in the background.Her screen lit up with a text from Tony. Good morning, Shortcake. Your brother owes me fifty bucks. I won the bet.A small
Tony stood at the bar, filling a mug of beer. He topped it off and sent it sliding down the counter, then leaned back, his eyes fixed on the door. Matt came up behind him, his voice low. "She’s not coming through that door anytime soon.""Who?""Whatever, dude. You know exactly who I’m talking abou
The following morning, as they gathered their belongings, Dee’s voice cut through the sound of the alarm. “Gemma, if you’re planning to shower before we hit the road, you’d better get to it now.”“No thanks. I’m avoiding the shower as long as possible,” Gemma replied, tugging Tony’s sweatshirt back
When they pulled over for fuel and snacks, the reality of Dee's planning set in; they wouldn't be eating any real food until they reached the hotel. "You know we can't mess with Mom's schedule," Kyle remarked as he climbed back into the U-Haul, tossing a bag of chips to his sister.Gemma held the b







