So what if I'm starting over. I managed to transfer the credits I earned from Columbia, and MKU is a good school. I'll still get a good degree and be able to make something of my life.
Things could be worse.
It could be this time last year…
I shake the thought from my head and force my feet to keep moving.
I pass students meeting up with their friends for the start of the new semester as they excitedly tell them all about their summers and the incredible things they did, or they compare schedules.
My lungs grow tight as I drag in the air I need. I think of the friends I left behind in Columbia. We didn't have all that much time together, but we'd bonded before my life imploded on me.
Glancing around, I find myself searching for familiar faces. I know there are plenty of people here who know me. A couple of my closest friends came here after high school.
Mom tried to convince me to reach out over the summer, but my anxiety kept me from doing so. I don't want anyone to look at me like I'm a failure. That I got into one of the best schools in the country, fucked it up and ended up crawling back to Rosewood. I'm not sure what's worse, them assuming I couldn't cope or the truth.
Focusing on where I'm going, I put my head down and ignore the excited chatter around me as I head for the coffee shop, desperately in need of my daily fix before I even consider walking into a lecture.
I find the Westerfield Building where my first class of the day is and thank the girl who holds the heavy door open for me before following her toward the elevator.
"Holy fucking shit," a voice booms as I turn the corner, following the signs to the room on my schedule.
Before I know what's happening, my coffee is falling from my hand and my feet are leaving the floor.
"What the—" The second I get a look at the guy standing behind the one who has me in his arms, I know exactly who I've just walked into.
Forgetting about the coffee that's now a puddle on the floor, I release my books and wrap my arms around my old friend.
His familiar woodsy scent flows through me, and suddenly, I feel like me again. Like the past two years haven't existed.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Luca asks, a huge smile on his face when he pulls back and studies me.
His brows draw together when he runs his eyes down my body, and I know why. I've been working on it over the summer, but I know I'm still way skinnier than I ever have been in my life.
"I transferred," I admit, forcing the words out past the lump in my throat.
His smile widens more before he pulls me into his body again.
"It's so good to see you."
I relax into his hold, squeezing him tight, absorbing his strength. And that's one thing that Luca Dunn has in spades. He's a rock, always has been and I didn't realize how much I needed that right now.
Mom was right. I should have reached out.
"You too," I whisper honestly, trying to keep the tears at bay that are threatening just from seeing him—them.
"Hey, it's good to see you," Leon says, slightly more subdued than his twin brother as he hands me my discarded books.
"Thank you."
I look between the two of them, noticing all the things that have changed since I last saw them in person. I keep up with them on Instagram and TikTok, sure, but nothing is quite like standing before the two of them.
Both of them are bigger than I ever remember, showing just how hard their coach is working them now they’re both first string for the Panthers. And if it's possible, they're both hotter than they were in high school, which is really saying something because they'd turn even the most confident of girls into quivering wrecks with one look back then. I can only imagine the kind of rep they have around here.
The sound of a door opening behind us and the shuffling of feet cuts off our little reunion.
"You in Professor Whitman's American lit class?" Luca asks, his eyes dropping from mine to the book in my hands.
"Yeah. Are you?"