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They obviously thought I was just randomly standing herewaiting to order a drink, not that Aidan was here because he was badgering me.
“I’m not shocked,” I tell him.
And I’m not. I know he’s capable of a lot more than he chooses to show the majority of the time.
Aidan holds eye contact, a furrow deepening between his eyes the longer we stare at each other.
His friend clears his throat. “Hey. I’m Hunter. I don’t think we’ve met before…”
“Rylan,” I supply.
“Rylan,” he repeats. There’s no spark of recognition on his face, just confusion.
“I’m Harlow,” the redhead says, flashing me a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you, Rylan.”
“You too,” I tell her.
“Rylan studied abroad at Oxford last semester,” Aidan says.
I glance at him, totally taken aback. First of all, I never specifiedwhichschool I attended in London. Either that was a lucky guess or he looked me up on social media to find that out. And secondly, why is he mentioning it now?
I get the answer a few seconds later, when Harlow lights up. “Really? That’s amazing! I wouldloveto study in London. I was just in Ireland for part of winter break. Some of my dad’s family lives just outside of Dublin.”
“My program did a trip to Galway,” I tell her. “It was gorgeous.”
“I haven’t been to Galway, but it’s on my list. I’ve heard amazing things.” Harlow is fully turned toward me now, her expression animated. “Where else did you go?”
“In Ireland? Cork. And we did some trips around Scotland and Wales as well. Edinburgh was my favorite.”
Harlow nods eagerly. “Was the weather terrible?”
“Not too bad, actually. And I’m used to rain, from growing up here.”
“You grew up in Somerville?” She looks—and sounds—surprised.
That’s been the typical reaction from most of the people I’ve told, but there hasn’t been any of the derision or scorn I was worried about. TheYou stayed here?look.
“Yeah. My dad got a job here when I was five. We’ve lived here ever since.”
“What does your dad do?” she asks.
I resist the urge to look at Aidan. “He, uh, he coaches the hockey team.”
“Oh,fuck,” Hunter says, which is encouraging. “You’re Phillips’s freshman tutor?”
I raise both eyebrows, then glance at Aidan. “I’m a junior.”
“Coach told me you were a new student,” Aidan explains. “I just assumed that meant—”
“What are you guys doing over here?” Conor Hart appears, his dark hair visibly wet. It must be raining out, which sucks because I was planning on walking home.
“Meeting Phillips’s tutor,” Hunter answers.
Conor focuses on me, his eyes a stormy blue. Despite his intense gaze, the smile he offers is friendly. “Oh. Hey. I’m Conor.”
I smile back. “Nice to meet you. I’m Rylan.”
An awkward pause falls.
