“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.