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I blinked at her. “You were?”

“Oh yeah. I hated her.”

“I thought you were carsick.”

“I think I was heartsick, actually.”

I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. It was weird talking through this. The what-ifs. The truth. Having it just be out there in the open, on the table. Us both knowing it. Acknowledging it.

She stared silently at my hand like maybe she was thinking about threading her fingers through mine too.

She let go of me instead.

“How was Lexi?” I asked, changing the subject.

She shrugged. “Good. Still dating that guy. Working in Minneapolis. You know what she said?”

“What?”

“That I’m out of survival mode.”

I looked back at the billboard. “Are you?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“I think I am too.”

“You were in survival mode? Why?”

“Because I worried about you. I don’t have to do that anymore. I mean, I still worry about you,” I said, glancing at her. “It’s just different now. With you here.”

She studied me.

“You know what I realized today?” she said.

“What.”

“I’d go through any door with you.”

I turned to look at her. She gazed back at me, something earnest in her expression.

And then we just sat with it. Because what else could we do?

Half an hour later, Larissa and I were taking the last bags of books to the bookshelf in her room when someone knocked on the front door. Woofarine started barking.

“Expecting someone?” she asked, stopping.

“No.”

She turned and looked out the peephole. “Oh, it’s Jesse.” She set her bag down and opened the door. “Hi,” she said, smiling, stepping aside to let him in.

“Sup,” he said, stomping snow from his boots. “Fuck, it’s cold out there.”

“Hey,” I said, setting my bag down. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

He looked around the living room while he took off his coat, our dog leaping at his feet. “Yeah, well, you’re not really on the group chat so. Figured I should make sure you’re alive.” He looked at Larissa. “How you been? You good?”

“Yeah. You?”