Chapter 10

“I broke up with Kendall last night.”

Trip and Wren stopped teasing each other. Jeff and Meredith looked up from their newspaper. Ash lowered her sheet of slides, and Christy set her muffin aside. The rest of the dining hall suddenly seemed loud by comparison, but then everyone spoke at once.

“Sorry, man.” “It’s about time!” “Dude, that sucks.” “Did you have a fight?” “What for?” “Oh, Paul, I’m so sorry.”

Just as quickly as they spoke, they all fell silent.

Christy set her hand on mine. She realized what she’d done and started to pull back, but then left it where it was. “What happened?” she finally asked.

I gave them the abridged version.

“I guess I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” I said at last. “I mean, I haven’t been happy for ... well ... you know.”

“A while,” Trip said heavily, and I nodded.

“What did she do when you told her?” Meredith asked.

“Said she never wanted to see me again.”

“Well, I say good riddance,” Wren said, which earned a glare from Christy. “Oh, don’t give me that look,” Wren snapped at her. “You didn’t like her any more than I did.”

“But you shouldn’t say something like that,” Christy said. “Kendall’s a person too, and she has feelings.”

“So?” Wren shot back. “You know how she treated Paul. You know—” Trip touched her arm, and she looked at him abruptly. She started to argue, but then lowered her eyes. “Sorry.”

The table fell silent.

“Are you going out with someone else?” Ash asked.

Wren and Christy immediately shot her a look.

“Hey, I was just asking,” Ash said. “Most guys won’t give up a good thing unless they have another lined up.”

“Paul isn’t like most guys,” Wren said.

“Besides,” Christy added, “that would be crass.”

Trip changed the subject. “So, what’re you going to do now?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“Do you want us to set you up with someone?” Ash said doggedly. “I mean, we know a couple of girls who’d—”

Once again, Wren and Christy glared at the same time.

“What? I just thought—”

“He doesn’t need to be set up,” Wren said.

Christy was the voice of reason. “Why don’t we find out what Paul wants.”

Everyone looked at me.

“I don’t really know,” I said. “I mean, I broke up with her, so I don’t want to get back together.”

“Do you think she wants to?” Meredith asked.

“No way,” Wren said. “She’s too conceited.”

“Wren!” Christy snapped.

Trip added a headshake, and Wren grew quiet. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I just ... I just don’t like her is all.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t like her very much either.”

Christy’s eyes flashed.

“What’d you expect me to say?” I said calmly. “I don’t like her very much right now. Some part of me still loves her, but I don’t really like her.”

“He did break up with her,” Trip said.

“I’m not going to bad-mouth her, if that’s what you think,” I said to Christy, which seemed to mollify her, “but I’m not going to lie about it either.”

She squeezed my hand, and I couldn’t help but notice her engagement ring. Her eyes followed mine and she blushed as she drew her hand back and covered it with the other.

“Well,” Meredith said, “I think it’s nice that you’re a gentleman about it.”

“No fu—” Jeff said, but then shot Meredith a look. “I mean, no kidding. Good for you, Paul.”

“Yes, good for you, Paul,” Christy said, but she was subdued.

Ash said, “I still say we should—”

Christy and Wren cut her off in unison, “Ash, no!”

“He doesn’t need another girlfriend right now,” Wren said.

“He needs friends,” Christy added. Then she deliberately touched my hand.

Trip clapped me on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

Everyone else chorused their agreement.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Jeff said at last, “you’re gonna make it after all.”

Meredith snorted a laugh.

“What?” Jeff said.

“He’s not Mary Tyler Moore.”

Jeff looked surprised, but then he realized what he’d said. He muttered, “I gotta stop watching re-runs with that fucking Cajun,” but it was too late.

“Is Paul supposed to throw his hat in the air?” Ash teased.

Trip hummed the show’s theme song, and Wren joined in. They were trying to lighten the mood, to keep me from thinking about Kendall, and it almost worked.

Christy squeezed my hand when she saw the faraway look in my eye. When I finally looked at her, she gave me a sad smile of sympathy. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to.

I made it through my first two classes, but I dreaded seeing Kendall at lunch. Part of me hoped she wouldn’t be there. Another part wanted to skip lunch altogether, to simply avoid the problem. The compassionate part of me—the part that still loved her—didn’t want to end our relationship on such a bitter note.

I wanted to explain, to tell her why I’d done it, to make her understand. Unfortunately, I didn’t think she ever would. She was so mature in some ways, but so immature in others. She was smart and focused, but only on things she wanted. She was sexy and adventurous, but our relationship felt like a romance novel. Worst of all, sex was a tool for her, a reward or an escape, sometimes even a weapon.

“Gosh,” Christy said, “you’re distracted.”

I looked up and realized we were walking together. I didn’t remember the end of computer class, or even meeting her in the hallway afterward.

“I’ve just been chattering along,” she said, “like you were listening.”

“Sorry.”

She shrugged, her expression light. “Don’t be. You’re allowed to be distracted.” She fished in her backpack and pulled out a baggie with apple slices. “Here,” she said, handing me one. “The fructose will help.”

I ate the slice mechanically, and she handed me another. When we arrived at my History of Architecture class, she stopped and looked up at me, her expression serious.

“If you need to talk,” she said, “I’m always here.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you going to meet her for lunch?”

“I haven’t decided. What do you think? I mean, what would you want if your boyfriend just broke up with you?”

“I’d want something more than an argument,” she said. “You were together for a long time. You can’t end it quickly.”

“Or cleanly,” I muttered.

“Relationships are messy sometimes,” she said, “especially at the end.”

I managed an ironic laugh.

She looked down and gathered her thoughts. “Be yourself,” she said at last. “Be honest. Don’t lose your temper. And remember, she has feelings too. She’s probably confused and upset. Scared, too.” She handed me the bag of apple slices. “You need these more than I do.”

I started to thank her, but she stepped close and straightened my collar. It was such an intimate gesture that I closed my mouth.

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” she said at last, her gaze fixed on my chest. She turned away, and I watched her go, more confused than ever.

“Christy told me to behave,” Wren said as she unfastened her bra.

I hung my shirt on the small rack in Siobhan’s office. “Are you going to?”

“I haven’t decided.”

We finished undressing in silence. Even though I was preoccupied with Kendall, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at Wren’s body. Her nipples were stiff from the cool air, and her breasts swayed as she moved.

My eyes fell to the neat strip of her pubic hair, and she caught me looking. I felt my cheeks flush, but then she moved close. I expected her to tease me, but she quietly gathered her thoughts instead.

“I’m sorry you broke up with Kendall,” she said at last, fidgeting. “I don’t really care what happens to her, but I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Thanks, Wren. I—”

“Let me finish,” she said without looking up. She mustered her courage and went on. “There are a lot of people who care about you. We’ll always be here if you need us.”

I pulled her into a hug. She held me tight, her cheek pressed to my chest, her hair silken against my skin. We stood together for a long moment.

“You know,” she said at last, mischievous again, “now that you’re not dating Kendall, you don’t have any rules.” She walked her fingers up my chest and playfully touched my lips. “Kissing isn’t off limits anymore.” Her eyes practically smoldered. “Neither is anything else.”

Before I could say anything, Siobhan knocked twice and opened the door. “We’re ready when you are,” she said through the crack.

I looked back at Wren, and her eyes danced with laughter.

She mock-pouted and pushed her breasts together with her arms. “Too bad I promised Christy...”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I know,” she said smugly, “but you don’t know the half of it.” She turned and flashed a sultry look over her shoulder as she walked into the larger classroom.

“Un-fucking-believable,” I muttered to myself. I couldn’t help but grin, which was what she wanted in the first place. I knew her well enough to realize that she wasn’t serious about trying to seduce me, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about it.

At lunch, Kendall entered the cafeteria and looked around anxiously. She was wearing my favorite sweater, a form-fitting blue one that showed off her chest. It was a message, and hardly subtle.

“Time to face the music,” I said grimly.

My friends wished me luck as I stood, and Kendall looked relieved when she saw me. I felt a jumble of emotions, from pity to dread to lust.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” she said as she hugged me. “When you didn’t call last night, I thought—”

“Can we go somewhere?” I said. “Somewhere private?”

Kendall misread me and smiled. “Back to my apartment?”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her we weren’t going to have sex. To make matters worse, she acted like nothing was wrong, which made my stomach knot.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she said when we reached the apartment. “I shouldn’t’ve said those awful things.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.”

“And I’m sorry I accused you of comparing me to Gina. You were right, I brought her up.” She moved toward me and practically backed me into the foyer wall. “I know a part of you will always love Gina,” she apologized demurely, “and I shouldn’t hold that against you ... as long as I have the rest of you.” She looked into my eyes and then moved in for a kiss.

“Hold on,” I said, and gently pushed her away. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” Part of me thought it was a very good idea—Treacherous organ!—but I bulled ahead. “We can’t solve our problems with sex.”

“The only problem we have is these clothes,” she purred.

“Kendall...”

She pressed her hips against me.

“Kendall, I’m serious. I’m not going to have sex with you.”

“Why not?” she almost moaned. “Don’t you still love me?”

“Of course I do,” I said, which was true, “but we can’t do this.”

“Why not? Don’t you want me?” She could feel how much I did.

“Yes, but...”

She tilted her head and planted a tender kiss on the side of my neck. “We had a fight,” she murmured. “That’s what couples do. I’m apologizing.” She ran her hands along my sides and then reached for my belt, but I caught her before she got there.

“Kendall, no.”

She pulled back, confused and uncertain.

“I meant what I said last night. We can’t go on like this. We don’t have a real relationship. It’s always sex, sex, sex. Even now, when I’m trying to explain it to you, you think the solution is sex.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“That’s not the point,” I said. “We don’t have some storybook romance. You can’t fix things in the final chapter. We’re in the real world, with real emotions and real problems.”

“But we can work them out.”

“No, we can’t, Kendall. We tried. Yeah, things got better for a while, but then we went right back to where we were. That’s not what I want.”

“Then tell me what you want—I’ll do it.” She pressed close again. I was acutely aware of the heat of her body, the feel of her breasts against my chest.

I felt a wave of desire, and blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Have a conversation with me.”

She furrowed her brow.

“Just a simple conversation. That’s all I want.” I was stalling for time, but it worked.

“You don’t want to make love to me?”

Of course I do, but that’s not the point! “No,” I rasped.

“But ... I can feel you.” To prove her point, she rubbed my trapped erection, but I pushed her away.

“Kendall, stop.”

“But...”

“My body wants to have sex with you, but ... we can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

I hung my head and massaged the dull ache in my forehead. “We can’t have sex,” I said at last. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the way it has to be.”

“But ... why?” She sounded so forlorn that I almost gave in.

“Because we can’t be together.” I was doing my best not to hurt her feelings, but she couldn’t understand. Wouldn’t understand, more likely. Her fairy tale wasn’t going to have a happy ending, and she was fighting it. I sighed. “I ... I don’t think we’re right for each other.”

“What do you mean? Of course we’re right for each other. We love each other.”

Sometimes that’s not enough, I thought sadly. She was too emotional to read me, and my heart nearly broke at the look of confusion in her eyes.

When I didn’t say anything, she grew nervous. “What ... what do you mean we’re not right for each other?”

I held her hands and looked into her eyes. “I love you, Kendall. I always will. You’re a wonderful person. You’re going to make some guy very happy, but ... I’m not that guy.”

“But...?”

“I’m sorry, Kendall. I tried to make it work. You did too, but it just didn’t. I don’t want to argue with you, and I don’t want to fight. I definitely don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t be with you anymore. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned to leave. She started crying as I shut the door. It cut off the sound, but it couldn’t erase the memory of her face.

I stared at my drafting table as Professor Joska lectured. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get Kendall’s face out of my mind. I felt sorry for her, and I didn’t want—

“Mr. Hughes,” Joska snapped, “am I boring you?”

I looked up and blinked. “No, sir.”

“Then give us an example of a design constraint.”

It took me a moment to figure out what he was talking about. Fortunately, I’d read the chapter, so I answered, “Zoning or code requirements.”

“Another.”

“Site requirements.”

“Such as?”

“Lot shape. Topography. Environmental factors.”

He scowled. “Another.”

I regurgitated the list from the book, and a few that hadn’t been in the book, which I came up with from my other reading. He wasn’t satisfied, but he couldn’t object to my attitude either, so he fell back on the last resort of thwarted teachers everywhere.

“See me after class, Mr. Hughes.”

“Yes, sir.”

During the break, Gracie stopped by and whispered, “What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

When I didn’t answer, Trip said quietly, “He broke up with his girlfriend.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said.

She wrote her phone number on a slip of paper. “If you ever need someone,” she said, and handed it to me.

I nodded and pocketed the slip.

Joska returned to the front of class and cleared his throat early. He was in a foul mood, probably because of me, and gave us a complicated assignment for the lab. Most people grumbled, but I simply cleared my books and pulled out my technical pens. I stared at the Faber-Castell logo, struck by the irony—Gina had given them to me after she broke up with me.

My mind wandered at the thought of her, and I remembered something Susan had once told me: Love is about more than sex. I had forgotten it with Gina, and Kendall didn’t seem to understand it in the first place.

Joska said something from close by, which snapped me out of my daze. I chose a pen and tugged the drafting machine into place over my paper. Then I cleared my mind and began drawing.

I thought I wouldn’t be able to concentrate, but the lines flowed with ease. I felt Joska behind me a couple of times—he was trying to rattle me—but I never looked up. I was in my own world, designing in my head, the pen an extension of my thoughts.

When Joska signaled the end of class, I looked up and blinked. I hardly remembered the last three hours. The other students stretched sore muscles as they packed their things and filed out of the classroom.

Trip caught my eye and waved goodbye. Gracie mouthed, “Call me,” as she walked past. I nodded and watched her go. Then I turned my attention to Professor Joska. I even stood respectfully as he approached.

“Is this a dormitory, Mr. Hughes?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you think you can sleep through my class and get away with it?”

“I wasn’t sleeping, sir.”

“You might as well have been,” he growled. “You think a few correct answers are going to get you off the hook?”

“No, sir.”

He paused, annoyed. “Do you have a problem, Mr. Hughes?”

“It’s personal.”

He merely arched an eyebrow, his lantern jaw set.

I stared back, dead-eyed and unflinching.

“You can’t let your personal life interfere with your work, Mr. Hughes.”

“I won’t,” I said defiantly. “Sir.”

He clenched his jaw, and turned to my drawing to look for faults. After nearly two minutes of silent scrutiny, he let out an explosive breath.

I kept my mouth shut.

“This is ... adequate,” he said at last.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I said ‘adequate,’ Mr. Hughes. You’re capable of better.”

I nodded silently, and he seemed to soften. I met his gaze and held it.

“Is it something you want to talk about, Mr. Hughes?”

“No, sir. As I said, it’s personal. I won’t let it affect my work, though.” The work was the one thing that helped take my mind off Kendall.

He paused to consider. “Walk with me, Mr. Hughes,” he said at last.

I rolled my drawing and slid it into my carrying tube. Then I gathered my things and followed him out the door. I drew abreast as we walked, although he remained silent until we reached the atrium.

“My wife tells me I’m a hard man to know,” he said, without looking at me. “Perhaps she’s right.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he pressed his lips together instead. He thought about it again, and even drew breath to speak, but the moment passed. He squared his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back.

After a long moment, he said, “You obviously don’t have enough work to do, Mr. Hughes. Come to my office tomorrow morning. I’ll have a list of extra assignments for you.”

I clenched my fists. Hard.

“In addition, I expect you to continue your work with Mr. DeFeo. His drawings today were a disgrace.”

“Yes, sir.”

“God is in the details, Mr. Hughes.”

“Yes, sir. Godly details.”

“Are you being flippant with me?”

I started to deny it, but then changed my mind. “Does it really matter?” I said wearily.

“Mr. Hughes, tolerance is not one of my virtues.” He cut me off before I could apologize. “Compassion isn’t either,” he added, without looking at me, “but I care a great deal about my students.” He started to say something else, but fell silent again.

“Your assignments will be waiting in my office,” he said at last. “Good evening.”

Kendall and I didn’t see each other for two days, although she called and left messages, like everything was normal. I wasn’t quite avoiding her, but I spent a lot of time working on Joska’s extra assignments. On top of everything else, I had to study for midterms.

I finally broke down and called her on Wednesday night. She wanted to see me, but I told her it wasn’t a good idea, which made me feel like a heel.

“You’re probably right,” she said. “We need a cooling-off period after a big argument.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that our “cooling-off period” was going to last a long time.

“Maybe we can go somewhere,” she said, willfully oblivious. “You know, get away for the weekend, by ourselves. No distractions, just the two of us.”

“Kendall, I...”

“Just think about it,” she said. Before I could say anything else, she changed the subject. “Do you want to meet for lunch tomorrow? We can talk about it.”

“I guess.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I said before I caught myself. It was true, but I felt like I was leading her on. After I hung up, I slid down the wall and sat on the floor with my head in my hands.

Trip appeared a few minutes later. “That bad?”

“Worse.”

“What’d she say?”

“She just doesn’t get it.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

He actually laughed. “C’mon, let’s get Luke and Jeff.”

I didn’t want to bare my soul, much less in front of everyone. “What for?”

“We’re going out.” He tugged me to my feet and then hollered toward the back bedroom. “Luke! Jeff! Get ready, we’re goin’ out.”

“But it’s Cagney & Lacey,” Luke called back.

Trip looked at me and politely excused himself. Then he walked down the short hall and turned off the little TV in Luke and Jeff’s room.

“Get your shit,” he said. “You too.”

“Where’re we goin’?” Jeff asked as Luke grumbled.

“To get Paul drunk.”

“Mais,” Luke said, suddenly enthusiastic, “why you don’t say so?”

“I’m sayin’ so now, aren’t I?”

They hustled me out of the apartment without even listening to my protests.

“All right, mes amis,” Luke said as we walked to the Strip. He clapped his hands and then rubbed them together. “Laissez les bon temps rouler.”

Jeff shot him a look. “Why can’t you speak English? What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means we gonna have a good time tonight!”

The next morning, a demented dwarf set up shop in my head. He hammered away, cheerfully oblivious as I contemplated ritual suicide. Trip merely groaned when I prodded him out of bed. I went to the bathroom, took four aspirin, and drank as much water as I could, but the dwarf was there to stay.

Trip staggered into the bathroom, so I went back to our room and did push-ups and sit-ups while he was in the shower. When it was my turn, I stood under the hot water for what seemed like an eternity. Jeff was waiting when I finished, but we barely made it to the dining hall on time.

I managed to survive Western Civ., but only because I could prop my head in my hands and pretend to read. When I reached Siobhan’s office and tried to take off my shirt, Wren took pity on me and brushed aside my fumbling fingers.

Before Siobhan was even ready for us, I shambled out, climbed onto the dais, and curled on my side. Wren cradled my head in her lap and gently stroked my temples. We could have been the only two people in the world as far as I was concerned.

I felt a little better by lunchtime, but I still had to meet Kendall, and the dwarf still had his forge going. She wanted to go back to her apartment, but sex was the last thing on my mind, so I steered us toward some nearby benches.

“Have you thought about getting away for the weekend?” she asked.

I closed my eyes against the bright light. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Well, you don’t have to decide right now,” she said, as if I hadn’t just said no.

I opened my eyes and instantly regretted it, but I had to look at her. “Kendall, I...” I tried several times, but didn’t know what to say.

“We could go back to my apartment,” she said. “I could fix lunch ... and then we can do anything you want.”

Between the sunlight, my pounding head, and Kendall’s attitude, I finally lost my temper.

“Don’t you get it?” I snapped. “We broke up. Time to move on. You can’t keep acting like nothing’s wrong.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“It’s over. We’re over.”

“Paul ... you don’t mean that!”

“I’m sorry. I love you, but ... I can’t do this anymore.”

I stood abruptly, jammed my hands in my pockets, and walked away. A gust of wind ruffled my jacket, and I ventured a painful glance at the sky. Feathery clouds curved through the air, like an artist had brushed titanium white on a cerulean canvas.

The cirrus clouds were beautiful in their own way, but I knew what they meant. I hunched my shoulders and thought back to Kendall’s expression. A storm was coming, in more ways than one.

Kendall broke before the thunderstorm did, but not by much. Her parents had driven up for the football game, and she wanted me to come to their RV with her.

I looked at the phone in disbelief. Which part of “we broke up” doesn’t she understand? “Um...,” I said at last, “that’s probably not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Kendall, c’mon. You know why.”

“No, tell me,” she snapped.

“Because we broke up.”

“Is that what I’m supposed to tell my parents? And their friends?”

The conversation went downhill from there. It happened so quickly that I had to blink to make sure I wasn’t imagining things.

She called me everything from a selfish bastard to a pathetic loser, which I bore in silence. I guess I just didn’t care anymore. When she finally wound down, I held the receiver to my ear again.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” she asked contemptuously.

I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m sorry?”

“Sorry is right! I thought you loved me. Boy, was I a dupe! I knew you’d...”

I held the phone away and let her rant, until she paused to catch her breath.

“Well?” she said.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Is that it?”

“Is what it, Kendall?”

“I wasted four years of my life on you, and that’s all you have to say?”

“Do you want me to get angry?”

“I want you to show some emotion!”

“I guess I’m past that.”

“Past that,” she sputtered. “What’s that supposed to mean? Never mind! I knew I shouldn’t have expected more. You’ve never been smart enough to figure things out! First Gina, and now me!”

She hung up with a clang, and I stared at the receiver for a long moment before returning it to the hook.

Thunder rolled over the building as the first drops of rain struck the window.

Kendall showed up at breakfast Monday morning. The entire table fell silent, and I braced for an assault.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she apologized. She took in the others with her eyes and then looked at me. “May we talk? Please?”

She seemed calm enough, so I agreed.

“I’m sorry about Saturday,” she said as we walked. “I was angry, and I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”

I shrugged. “I’m sorry I made you angry.”

We walked in silence.

“I miss you,” she said at last.

“I miss you too.”

“I ... I don’t want it to end.”

“We tried to fix things.”

“We can try again,” she pleaded. “I know things haven’t been good for a while, but that’s no reason to break up.”

That’s exactly why people break up, I thought, but kept it to myself.

“I know I put too much emphasis on sex,” she said. “I’m ... a sexual person, and when I think about you ... I just can’t help myself.” She actually laughed, although it was ironic. “I’m thinking about you now. I want you so much it hurts.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Do you want to go back to your apartment?”

Yes! “We probably shouldn’t.”

Her face fell. “I know. You’re right. But...”

We fell silent, awkward and uncertain.

“I want to fix things,” she said.

“We tried.”

“We could try again. Please, Paul.”

“I wish I could wave a magic wand,” I said, “but I can’t. Besides, I don’t think we’re right for each other.”

“I can change, Paul. I’ll spend more time with you, I promise. Maybe we can model together, like we used to. And we can study together on the weekends. I’ll give up my pre-med study group, and I can change my psychology group— Why are you shaking your head?”

“I just don’t think it’ll work.”

“Paul, it has to work. I love you.”

“I love you too, Kendall, but...” I shrugged. I wanted to make her happy, but I didn’t see how—not and still live with myself. Our goals were too different, our lives too far apart. “You’re going to med school next year, and I’ll still be here.”

“We’ve made it work before.”

“I don’t think it’ll work this time. I mean, after last summer...”

“That was different,” she pleaded. “I had the MCAT and my application. You had your houses.”

“How will it be different when you’re in med school and I’m still here? You’ll have your classes and I’ll have mine, and we’ll both be busy.”