Chapter 1

At the reunion after I came back from my exchange, the card I drew was Margery Mason.

Everyone whooped and started firing questions at me.

"Mike Gilbert, tell us Margery Mason's height, weight, hobbies, cup size... and her birthmark?"

I answered every one exactly.

Five foot six, a hundred fifteen pounds, piano, C.

The birthmark was on—I paused, then finished evenly. "The inside of her left thigh."

Fifty questions about Margery Mason. I scored a perfect hundred.

Graham Lyons propped his chin on his hand. "You're not her boyfriend, are you?"

Someone jumped in right away.

"Has to be, right? Wasn't he the one who got jealous over the research slot in England and stormed off to do a two-year exchange out of spite?"

"And the deciding vote back then, Margery cast it for Graham!"

"Chased her for five years and didn't even get a title out of it!"

Margery leaned back into the couch, her voice flat. "No. We're just neighbors."

I took a small sip of my juice. "And we never will be, either."

Margery suddenly smiled, her tone mocking.

"What, done chasing?"

I looked at her and felt nothing at all.

Because I realized, all at once, that I hadn't lost to anyone.

I just didn't like Margery Mason anymore.

...

Halfway through the reunion, the talk kept going.

Someone asked, grinning, "Mike, two years abroad and you really didn't follow any news back home?"

"Not much," I said, mild.

"Then you don't know Margery and Graham have been together practically every day these two years?"

"Same lab, meals together, even school events together."

Someone drew the words out.

"They held the number one spot for sweetest couple on the campus forum! If that's not together, what is?"

Graham sat beside Margery, his cheeks faintly red.

"Don't make things up."

He said it, but he didn't push away the hand Margery had resting on his waist.

The private room filled with laughter.

"Just friends, with your hand on his waist?"

"Ohh, friends with lips, is that it?"

Margery didn't deny it. Her palm gave Graham's waist a light squeeze.

I lowered my eyes. My chest was calm, still as dead water.

Two years ago, one meal between them and I couldn't sleep the whole night.

I would read through Margery's chat logs over and over, trying to figure out why she went to pick Graham up herself, why she shielded him in front of everyone, and yet would never admit I was her boyfriend.

Looking at it now, it was nothing much after all.

Graham suddenly stood, carried a glass of liquor over to me.

"Mike, let me toast you. That research slot back then, I really never meant to take yours from you..."

I stared at the plain silver band on his ring finger, and thought, out of nowhere, of the summer after the SATs.

Margery had taken me to a silver jewelry shop, bent over her work for a long time, her knuckles rubbed raw.

I asked her what she was making.

She said matching couple rings.

"Who said I wanted to wear matching rings with you?"

"Fine, forget it then."

That was what she said, but when she finished, she slid one of them onto my finger.

It fit exactly.

That was the first time she took my hand of her own accord, and the first time she admitted we were together.

Later, the last time we fought, I pulled the ring off and threw it back at her.

I thought she'd toss it, or keep it.

I never thought she'd turn around and give it to Graham.

The people around us egged him on.

"Mike, drink! Graham came over to toast you himself."

"Don't tell me a trip abroad left you scared to even drink?"

I picked up my juice and tapped it lightly against his glass.

"I don't drink."

The smile on Graham's face faded a little. "Same as always, then."

He lowered his eyes and added, "Always ruining the mood."

Someone laughed out loud right away.

The next second, a glass of liquor came down hard in front of me.

"Here. To the simp."

The guy's voice was loud.

"Chased her five years, chased his way to nothing, and even waited on the man who took his one true love off his hands!"

"Mike Gilbert, you saw the whole simp routine through to the end!"

The next second, Margery lifted her glass and clinked it against his.

"Well said."

The glasses met with a crisp ring.

Watching it, I thought of the last fight before I left.

I'd asked her, "I just wanted you to admit it in front of everyone. Was that too much to ask?"

She'd said, "There's no point."

Thinking back now, those answers I chased through tears, agonized over again and again, really were pointless.

I just didn't understand it then. I had to hit the wall before I'd turn back.

When it broke up, it had started to rain outside.

Margery stood at the bottom of the steps. "I'll take you back to the dorm."

"No need."

"Mike Gilbert."

Her voice dropped. "Two years abroad out of spite, and you're still hiding from something? Afraid you can't keep the act up?"

My face gave nothing away. I raised a hand and flagged down a cab.

The window rolled slowly up, sealing that familiar face away behind the rain.

She didn't come after me.

The way she never had, all those years.

She would only stand there and wait for me to turn back on my own.

But this time, I didn't.