Page 78 of High Hopes

I pocket my phone quickly. “Just texting Birdie back.”

He gives me a knowing look, his grin widening. “Oh, yeah? What’d she say?”

“She didn’t yet.”

He pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry. Women love guys who are terrible at drinking games and sulk in hallways. Really endearing.”

“Go away,” I say, pushing him lightly.

My phone buzzes. I fumble with it, nearly dropping it in my haste.

Birdie

sounds good. maybe thursday?

Liam

thursday works. let’s meet at the Vault. you can tell me all about how you spent break avoiding me ;)

I immediately regret it. For a whole sixty seconds, I worry it was too soon to tease. A normal guy wouldn’t overthink this. Wouldn’t risk scaring her off before things felt steady again.

Birdie

lol. sounds fair. see you then x

The tight knot in my stomach loosens just enough for me to breathe.

“Come on,” Chase nags. “We’ve got a legacy to defend.”

“Legacy of what?” I ask, giving him a flat look.

“Being ... legends,” he mumbles. “Oh, whatever. I don’t know. Just get your ass back in here.”

I sigh but follow him anyway. It is Chase’s goodbye party, after all. The least I can do is let myself get pulled back into the chaos. Let myself exist in the moment, even if it’s fleeting.

And maybe a text back isn’t as good as a midnight kiss, but Thursday is close enough. This time, I’m not going down without a fight.

28

BIRDIE

Break’s coming to an end,and campus is alive again. It’s that jittery mix of dread and excitement that always comes with the start of a new semester. But I’ve only been back for two hours, and already the apartment feels warmer, more familiar, just because Sena’s here.

Her laugh echoes from the kitchen as she unpacks a stash of overpriced snacks her mom insisted she bring back. “Do you know how many Trader Joe’s bags I had to carry through the airport?” she calls, waving a box of maple leaf cookies in my direction.

I catch them midair, tuck my knees to my chest on the couch, and dig in. “The sacrifices you make for us common folk.”

“You joke, but my mom is convinced you can’t survive without these. ‘What does Birdie eat?’ she kept asking. Like I haven’t seen you live off plain bagels and instant ramen for weeks at a time.”

“Hey, don’t knock the classics,” I say lightly, though my throat tightens at her words. Sena’s only just arrived, and already I feel a little more like myself. Break was long. Too long.

She catches the shift in my expression—of course she does. Sena always notices. She sets down the last of her bags andplops cross-legged onto the other end of the couch, her bright, knowing eyes locking on mine.

“Okay, spill,” she says, waving a cookie at me like it’s a pointer. “How was break? And don’t even try to feed me some vague ‘fine’ bullshit.”

I shrug and pop another cookie into my mouth, stalling. “But itwasfine.”

“Birdie.”

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