Taking responsibility for something required self-awareness, and a certain amount of conscientiousness. Depending on the situation, it also showed that you cared about someone else, maybe even that you were selfless, when taking responsibility had negative consequences for you.

John Jay's seemingly simple gesture of standing up for me had kept me up. Not all night, but still: John was on my mind much more than he probably deserved. He was handsome—like, hot—and nice, and regardless of how shallow that sounded, I maybe, a little bit, regretted having shut him down like that.

Although what else could I have done in the middle of class? And also, which sport did he play?

But then, maybe it wasn't so shallow after all to be thinking about him because this was about his character. He was evidently self-aware and conscientious and caring and selfless. I think. Or was I projecting?

The late afternoon sun warmed my back through the all-glass front of the newly-renovated athletic complex. Now was as good a time as any to pretend I would work out more this semester. I punched a text response to Jessica's question about meeting for dinner when my body met a hard chest. The impact would have made me drop my phone had I not involuntarily performed a silly dance trying to grab it before it fell.

"I am so sorry." A gasp escaped my lips before my gaze even met his.

It was like in the movies: not only was it John looking back at me—of course—but also did my mind stop working for two seconds. Two seconds were a long time.

"John!" Way to state the obvious, Grace.

"Hey, Grace." He sported a lopsided grin, likely due to my little dance and my dumbfounded expression. I blushed and brushed my hair behind my ear.

"What are you doing here?" I was stalling for time to compose myself again.

"I just got out." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder to the shiny new gym. "We did cardio today for soccer practice."

"Ah, that's it!" I exclaimed in relief before realizing how supremely bizarre that had sounded.

He arched an eyebrow. "That's what?"

I mentally facepalmed myself, hard. Great job telling him I've been thinking about him. He'll think I'm a creep.

"Nothing. I knew you were an athlete, but didn't know what sport. But now I know. So it's all good."

I brushed a lock of blonde hair behind my ear. It's all good? What the hell was I blabbering?

A smart person would have left it at that and turned to leave, but alas...

Not only were my feet planted firmly on the ground, John also made no move to walk away from this mother of all uncomfortable conversations. What sounded good to me in that moment was to go dig a hole in the Green Mountain grass outside and lie in it. Instead, he had the audacity to smirk at my rapidly blushing face.

"That's what you've been thinking about since yesterday?"

I shrugged and shifted nervously, twirling a lock of hair around my finger.

He chuckled in amusement. "You could have asked me, you know."

I shrugged again, mentally facepalming myself once more for my slip up. We both knew I couldn't have asked. He was probably good and popular or whatever, and asking would have outed me as a know-nothing-about-sports dork. Or, worse, it would have made it seem like I cared. And I didn't.

Speaking of soccer, none of his teammates were to be seen, although athletes normally traveled in packs. Instead, the few people in the big hall were around to stare? I knew I shouldn't worry about them, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't. I shifted my weight from my left foot to my right and back again. Ag, I'm not normally this awkward, what is wrong with me. Yes, he was easy on the eyes, but that was no reason to act like a teenager.

The silence was making me progressively antsy. "Well, anyway, I don't want to keep you, you probably have somewhere better to be."

He chuckled. "Nah, don't worry." When he gave me a pat on the shoulder blade, I wanted to die. "A'ight, I'll see you in class tomorrow?"

I nodded as he gave me another one of his small waves, turned, and left me standing there, my feet glued to the shiny linoleum floor for several long seconds.

***

"Quick recap." Jessica stood in front of the mirror in her room with her brush in her right hand and a strand of black curly hair twisted around her left pinkie.

Her bed squeaked underneath me as I rolled over on my side, letting my notepad slide off my lap. My focus on homework was gone anyway, evidenced by the black laptop screen indicating it had gone into sleep mode. It was the first week of classes and I needed to pick up my pace. Falling behind this early in the semester was a recipe for disaster. And yet, here I was, chatting with my best friend about my non-existent love life instead of reading about paradigms of social group identification.

Using a comb, she separated the top section of her hair and pinned it up with a large hair clip, then plugged in her straightening iron. "You went out with Liam and you're crushing on a soccer player in your poli sci class?"

The cheekiness with which she infused her tone was at best-friend-only level. The day we met, when she had already moved into our shared room when I had arrived, her shy self would have never dared to be this bold. Two years of shared college lives, though, had brought us close enough that not a sheet of paper would have fit between us.

"I'm not—"

"This all happened since we got back? Chica!"

Attempting and failing to raise one eyebrow, I raised both. "I'm not crushing on him."

"Who, John Jay or Liam?"

"Both. Neither."

"Wait—this John guy, he's a TFB, right?"

Jessica was less opinionated on trust fund babies, or TFBs, than I was, but she still supported my endeavor to keep out of their way. To fit our definition, TFBs didn't need access to an actual trust fund. It sufficed if they had their parents' credit cards at their disposal or otherwise drew attention to their family's affluence.

"Oh, one hundred percent." She arched an eyebrow, eliciting a sigh from me. "Jess, I know and I'm not crushing on him, okay?"

"Mmmokay."

Her smirk made me roll my eyes.

"Do you think it was a bad idea to go out with Liam?"

Her straightening iron beeped and a light turned green, indicating it had reached the right temperature. The first thick, black lock disappeared into the iron mouth and came out slightly more smooth than before. Through the mirror, her gaze met mine and she shrugged. "I don't know. No? It was just as friends, right? No problem so far."

Until five minutes ago, she had worn an avocado face mask that complimented her brown skin nicely. Wrinkling my forehead carefully, I could feel my own face mask cracking which meant it was time to take it off soon.

"¿Cómo está Martin, anyway?"

"Huh-uh, don't compare my boyfriend of five years to your little schoolyard crush," she sing-songed. "But he's doing great. He can't wait to graduate in the spring. He's had about enough of Texas A&M, or college in general."

"DC is still the plan?"

She smiled, focusing on the steaming piece of hair she flattened with her wand. "Yup. It is the best place for me to work in translating after I graduate. He'll need to start applying for jobs soon, but luckily, teachers are needed everywhere, so he'll find something in the area. It's a shame I'll have another year to go, but I at least I like college."

I was envious that they had it all figured out, and that they had each other. If anyone deserved it, it was Jessica, but to have at least a little bit of that certainty would have been a dream. Even though I knew I wanted to pursue my graduate studies in psychology the year after next and become a child psychologist, I had no idea where I would study, where I would end up living, and with whom.

I sighed. "What catalog did you order Martin from, again? I'd like one, too."

A wide grin spread across her face as she clipped the already straightened portion of her hair to the side and let down the top section she had pinned up earlier, swinging her iron through it with the ease that came with years of practice. "He's pretty great, isn't he?"

He was. In high school, he had started taking Spanish for her before they even went out for the first time. Her parents became his number one fans when he tried conversing with them en español. Despite little success, they were sold on him as their son-in-law-to-be. When Martin and Jessica had been on vacation together this summer visiting all of her extended family in the northwest of Mexico, everybody had loved him. A surprise to exactly no one. I would have never admitted it to anyone but my best friend, but I longed for a relationship like theirs. Not this year—I had to focus on school—but someday.

As if she had read my mind, Jessica said: "Don't force it, Gracie. You'll find your Martin."

Another sigh slipped from my lips.

"Anyway, regarding your imminent guy trouble," Jessica concluded, "don't do anything I wouldn't do."

I should have listened to her.

A chime announced an incoming message on my phone. My eyes flicked from Jessica to the little screen and back. Wait—what?

"Honey, your eyes will fall out of their sockets if they bulge any more. What is it?"

My heartbeat picked up as my eyes reread the DM in my inbox.

Jessica cleared her throat. "Earth to bestie, everything alright?"

"It's John. He's asking if we can meet for a study group."