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For a while after his mom’s stroke, he honestly hadn’t been sure he’d ever get here. He’d had plans when he was at UC Davis; he’d been accepted to their master’s program in art history, with his future career as an archivist all mapped out. But then his dad had called him in the middle of the night from the emergency room at Shasta Regional Medical Center, and everything had changed. He’d still managed to finish his degree, commuting the two and a half hours back and forth from Redding to Davis to attend classes, and then he’d initially just deferred for a year, assuming—and desperately hoping—his mom would recover enough for him to leave again.

That hadn’t happened, and it had become clear very quickly that his family needed him home. He’d withdrawn his commitment to grad school altogether and started occasional and irregular volunteer work at the local library as a way to give himself something to do outside of taking care of his mom. When Mr. Peterson at the library had suggested he look into an online degree program, Cass had jumped at the chance.

And now, here he was.

The future still wasn’t clear to him; the MLIS degree wouldn’t mean anything at all if he couldn’t work because he had to stay home and take care of his mom. But it felt like something he needed to do for himself, and he was happy that both of his parents seemed to understand and support that.

With a deep breath, he started forward, slipping his phone into his pocket and tightening his hand on the strap of his overnight bag. Another student held the door open ahead of him, and he thanked them with a nod and walked with them to the room where the orientation was being held.

Each step seemed to give him a bit more energy, and as he slid into an aisle seat near the middle of the room a few minutes later, he pulled out his phone to text his dad.

Cass (8:59 a.m.): I’m here on campus, and they’re about to start. My phone will be on silent, but I’ll check it often if you need to get a hold of me

Cass (9:00 a.m.): Tell mom I love her and miss her. See you both tonight :)

At the front of the lecture hall, an older woman dressed in a flowing floral skirt and a white blouse stepped up to the podium. Cass quickly muted all sound on his phone and started to slip it back in his pocket when the screen lit up with a text message notification.

The second he saw Ash’s name, his heart skipped a beat, and he held the phone low in his lap so he could read the short messages as the woman at the front started addressing the room.

Ash (9:01 a.m.): I had a great time last night. Thanks for hanging out with us :)

Ash (9:01 a.m.): Hope today goes well!

He bit his lip to rein in his smile.

Cass (9:01 a.m.): Thanks! Just getting started now

And, because he couldn’t hold back, he sent a second text too.

Cass (9:02 a.m.): I also had a great time last night. I’d love to do it again sometime

It was an invitation he knew he really shouldn’t extend, and not because he didn’t think they should hang out as just friends but because he very, very much intended the invitation to be for something more than just friends.

Unfortunately, he had no way of knowing whether Ash would interpret the message that way or not.

No response came right away, and when the woman at the front began to go over the schedule for the day, Cass quickly blacked out his screen, shoved the phone deep into his pocket, and tried his best to pay attention, even as his chest was buzzing with eagerness.

The first half of the day was busy, full of informational sessions conducted by various faculty members from the department, followed by smaller breakout sessions run by second- and third-year grad students in the MLIS program. The energy remained upbeat and positive, and by the time their lunch break rolled around at twelve thirty, Cass was fully immersed. He joined three other students and headed out across campus to grab a bite to eat at the food court inside the student union building.

After they settled at a table with their lunches, Cass finally pulled his phone out of his pocket for the first time since that morning. He had a slew of notifications, and he swiped through them quickly while the group around him started to chat about how the day was going.

The first message was a simple “all is well” text from his dad, sent about an hour ago. Cass responded with a thumbs-up emoji, then scrolled through a few other messages—one from Brendan, another from Joe.

Ash hadn’t replied, which really shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did.

He was just about to put his phone away when the screen lit up with another new notification. Frowning, he glanced back down at the screen, and his stomach dropped.

The notification was a text message from the airline. His flight this afternoon was delayed more than two hours. No reason was given. His new departure time was eight fifteen, which was close to his prior arrival time; that meant he wouldn’t be getting back to Redding until after 10:00 p.m.

He stared at the notification for several seconds, trying to figure out how he should be feeling about it. Because the first thing that popped into his head was the fleeting thought that maybe now he’d have enough time to meet up with Ash again today, if Ash was available.

And that wasn’t what he expected should have been his first thought.

It should have been worry about getting home to his mom, then more worry about having to inconvenience Joe with the later pickup time, and then even more worry about having to reschedule the rideshare he’d already booked to take him to the airport that afternoon.

Once he’d worried about all of that, only then should he be considering whether to send Ash another text to see if they could meet again.

Instead, he found himself screenshotting the text from the airline, sending that screenshot to Ash, and then following it up with a short message of his own.