HAYDEN

The student lounge always carried the faint, familiar stench of cheap pizza and body spray, but you learned to love it after a while because it meant somewhere to crash, somewhere to unload.

Tonight it felt like home in the way only cluttered, loud rooms can be, messy, honest, and full of guys who’d seen you at your worst.

I opened the door with Coleen at my side. She looked small next to the sagging couches, with her fingers tight on the strap of her bag, a careful, curious look on ...