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Jonathan hesitated, as though choosing what to address first. “I didn’t leave.”

“You did.”

“I mean… I moved because I got a job. That’s kind of what happens after college.”

“Yes.” Phoebe held her wineglass against her lips. She didn’t want to press the issue. Not now, when they’d just been reunited. “I know. I’m just being dramatic.”

“Speaking of dramatic.” A grin played around the corners of Jonathan’s mouth. “Remember that time—”

“Stop,” Phoebe said.

“That time when you cried because—”

“I know it was too much; you don’t have to remind me.” Phoebe couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up at the memory.

“You cried at the end of the quarter because you loved Professor Levy’s class so much you didn’t want it to end?”

They both burst out laughing.

“It was so ridiculous,” Phoebe gasped between laughs, “but it’s really how I felt! That class was everything!”

“I loved it, too. And I’m pretty sure Levy was tickled.”

“You were just as bad. Remember the first day of that philosophy class, when, after like two slides, you were like, ‘I love this class already!’”

Jonathan nodded, sipping his drink. “Yep.”

“Nerd.”

“If getting excited about life makes me a nerd, well, then, okay.”

Phoebe beamed at him. “See, this…” She pointed in his general direction, unsure where her words were going. “This is what…”

What’s been missing, she finished to herself. Jonathan was a nerd, and he did get excited about life. They could geek out together about so many things. He wasn’t afraid to be enthusiastic. So many of the guys Phoebe had dated were just so serious. Almost as if they were afraid to be goofy. Jonathan wasn’t, though. She recalled that day in philosophy class, how he’d proclaimed how much he loved it and a few people had looked back at him and laughed, but he’d just smiled and bounced in his seat, happy to be there, ready to learn. It made her heart swell to remember it.

“What?” Jonathan asked.

“I don’t know. Just getting sappy, remembering the good old days.”

“We had a lot of them.”

Phoebe snorted. “Miranda’s birthday.”

“Don’t even. I almost drowned.” Jonathan groaned, covering his eyes.

“I have never been that hungover in my life.”

The memories kept coming, both of them laughing until their sides hurt. They finished the bottle of wine, but Phoebe stayed on the little armchair, Jonathan on the sofa. She wondered if he felt it, too, the awkward boundary between them. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe she felt it because she was the one who had put it there in the first place.

He had obviously moved on from his crush on her. Probably dated tons of women in New York. I mean, look at him.

After they’d made their way through several years’ worth of shared anecdotes, Phoebe blurted, “So, are you dating anyone?”

He gave her a steady look as he shook his head. “Not at the moment, no.”

“Me neither.”

Because no one has ever felt right. Easy. Like this.