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“Okay,” she says quietly.

“Okay.”

Her mouth curves. “That was very boyfriend of you.”

“I am your boyfriend.”

“I know. It still catches me off guard when you’re good at it.”

I pull her into me. I step back until I’m sitting on the bed.

She laughs as she comes across my lap. Her hands settle against my shoulders. For a while, we stop talking about next year.

That night, she stays. The suitcase doesn’t get finished until morning.

Three days later, Coach catches me outside the video room.

“Laurens.”

I stop.

He waits until the last couple of guys move past us. “Check your email.”

I look at him. “What?”

“Your university email.”

“Why?”

He gives me the same look he gives Stanley when Stanley asks something he already knows the answer to.

“How would I know?”

I chuckle. “You clearly know.”

“I know somebody called looking for you.”

My stomach tightens. “Who?”

“Graduate admissions.”

For a second, I just stare at him. Then I pull out my phone.

Fuller walks away before I can ask anything else.

There are two unread emails. One from a professor. One from admissions. I open the second. It takes me longer than it should to understand the first line. Then I read it again.

Congratulations.

I keep going.

Sport Administration.

Fall semester.

Accepted.

The hallway keeps moving around me while I stand there with my phone in my hand.