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“As Kit said,” Zann laughed and leaned in to kiss the tip of her nose, “my mom’s a fucking physicist.”

“Kit used to have the biggest crush on her,” Jack shared. “Every time she came to guest lecture when we were at school, she was just sitting in the auditorium like Bugs Bunny with the extendo-heart-eyes.” He flashed his hands in and out from his face for emphasis. “It was hilarious.”

“Oh, like you weren’t just as stupid for Mr. Collins,” Kit sassed.

“History teacher,” Zann explained for Lydia. “Younger guy, perpetual five o’clock shadow, was a gym bro before gym bros were a thing, and liked his trousers on the snug side.”

“And god bless him for it,” Jack drawled, saluting the heavens with his beer. “That man had an ass.”

Lydia sniggered. “Okay, but if you grew up in Spain, how did you end up at a boarding school in western Massachusetts?”

“When I was fifteen, my moms came over to Boston as guest lecturers—Amá was initially contacted by MIT because of her research, and Mamá ended up teaching a few seminars at Mass U—and they were looking into different private schools around Boston for me, but none of them were quite right.” Zann stroked the back of Lydia’s hand on her leg. “My mamá wasn’t a fan of the whole boarding school thing—she’d been sent to them as a kid and didn’t have the best memories—but I was too far ahead academically to not be bored out of my mind at a more traditional school, so she agreed to let me try it.”

“And you clearly liked it.”

“Loved it,” Zann confirmed with a smile. Stonebridge had felt like home the moment she set foot on campus. She twined her fingers with Lydia’s and tipped her head at Kit, Jack, and Aspen. “These three were a big part of it. We were in the same house and just hit it off immediately. My moms’ guest lecturer tenures in Boston actually ended after my second year, but they let me stay and finish my studies at Stonebridge when they went back to Spain.”

“And we haven’t let you go, since,” Aspen chuckled.

“Not true. I did some post-grad stuff at that art school in Barcelona,” Zann reminded her, and then hated herself for it because of the way Aspen’s smile dimmed. Because, yeah, while she’d been sleeping her way across Europe and calling it artistic growth, Aspen had been in Iraq. “But yeah,” she hastened to add, “I’ve pretty much been here ever since.”

“So we’re all boarding school brats,” Lydia noted wryly. “Me and Eve met when we were assigned to be roommates our freshman year at Dana Hall. So, funnily enough, had the fates aligned, we all could have maybe crossed paths years ago.”

“That’s…” Zann shook her head as she imagined it. What would her fifteen-year-old self have done if she’d happened across Lydia? Trip over her feet and hide, probably. She hadn’t found her confidence around pretty girls until she was in college. “Wow.”

“Yeah, except we were in college by the time you two were there,” Aspen pointed out with a laugh.

Zann blinked. Age had never come up in a conversation with either Eve or Lydia, so she’d just assumed they were all within like a year or two. But if they were in college when Eve and Lydia were in high school… “Wait. How old are you?”

“Not that much younger than you guys,” Lydia said, sticking her tongue out at Aspen. She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’m thirty.”

Zann nodded slowly. Five years wasn’t, like, a lot, but she would have never guessed that there was that large of a gap in their ages. “I seriously had no idea.”

“Because I’m so traumatized for my age?” Lydia flicked at her hair with her free hand and quipped, “The burden of a family legacy will do that to a girl.”

Zann blinked. “Whoa. No. That’s not—”

“I know,” Lydia cut her off with a smile. “I was just joking.” Zann didn’t miss the way Lydia’s gaze drifted to the stern deck, where Eve was chatting happily with the other half of the group as she said, “Legacy aside, I have no complaints about my life. My parents are supportive, and I’ve never once wondered if they love me or not. So, all things considered, I’ve had it unfairly good.”

Zann lifted Lydia’s hand to her lips and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles. From the way Lydia spoke of her relationship with the expectations foisted upon her, she had wondered if Lydia’s situation was anything like Eve’s. She was relieved to learn that it wasn’t. Because if it were, she’d probably kick the shit out of her parents the first time she met them.

“Speaking of parents,” Michael said, turning to Aspen, “when do yours get up here?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Aspen replied. She blew out a long breath and dragged her hands through her hair as she slumped a little deeper into the banquette. “Eve and I will meet them for brunch, and then I think the plan is for us all to head up to the city to wander around a bit and just hang out before the rehearsal and dinner and everything.”

“And then we marry your ass off,” Zann teased.

Aspen smiled dopily. “Yeah.” Her gaze drifted toward Eve. “I can’t fucking wait.”

“Okay, okay. Enough mushy shit,” Kit declared. When Aspen laughed and held up her hands in defeat, she jabbed a finger at Zann and said, “Back to the matter at hand—”

“It is not a mathematical given that the Doctor can’t travel back in time, and you need to just accept it,” Zann drawled. She laughed when Kit flashed a pair of birds at her. “It’s like Flatland. Just because you exist in a particular dimension doesn’t mean that others don’t exist around you.”

“Oh shit,” Jack hooted. “She’s breaking out fucking Flatland.”

Zann winked at him. Their Differential Geometry teacher at Stonebridge had made them read the novella and write a book report on it, and Kit had bitched incessantly about the assignment.

“Do I want to know?” Lydia asked, her eyes dancing with amusement as Kit groaned and slammed her head onto the tabletop.