The air was thick with late–summer warmth, the kind of weather that made Chris want to stretch out on the grass and forget about looming decisions. Instead, he sat cross–legged on Nick’s porch steps, notebook balanced on his knee. Jin lounged beside him, scrolling casually through his phone, while Nick paced in lazy circles on the lawn. Sienna was stretched out across the porch swing, her sandals dangling loosely from her toes.

“So,” Nick said suddenly, stopping to face them, “anyone else’s parents on your neck about applications? ’Cause mine are ready to start breathing down my neck with forms and essays.”

Chris smirked, doodling in the corner of his notebook. “Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do? I think it’s like a hobby for them—nagging about the future.”

“Yeah, but yours don’t have that ‘don’t embarrass this family’ tone every two seconds,” Nick shot back.

Sienna laughed, tossing her hair out of her face. “Your mom’s just passionate, Nick. She wants to see you win.”

“Win, survive, get rich… whichever comes first,” Nick muttered, but his grin softened it. He turned to the group. “So what’s everybody thinking? For real. Schools, majors, dreams—the works.”

Jin finally locked his phone and set it down. His expression was calm, but there was a brightness in his eyes, like he’d been waiting to say this. “I already talked to my parents. I’m applying to Hamilton University.”

Nick whistled low. “Hamilton? That’s like… big leagues, man. The one with the campus that looks like a palace?”

“Yeah,” Chris said, nodding. “Their acceptance rate is brutal. You gotta have everything—grades, essays, like… a perfect résumé.”

“Exactly,” Jin replied, but his tone wasn’t boastful. If anything, it was steady, like he’d already accepted the challenge. He leaned back, hands folded neatly. “It’s ambitious, but I want to push myself.”

Chris noticed, not for the first time, how Jin said it like it was simply practical, not extravagant. But something about the way he spoke, the calm certainty, hinted at how much support he had behind the scenes. Jin never flaunted anything, but there was always that trace—like his world had a little more cushion than the rest of theirs. Chris filed the thought away.

Nick broke the silence. “Well, I’m applying to Cedar Point University. They’ve got good engineering, good basketball, and it’s not that far from home. Plus…” His eyes flickered, just for a second, toward the porch swing. “I heard someone else is considering it too.”

Sienna looked up from her phone, arching a brow. “What? Don’t look at me like that.”

“Didn’t you say it was one of your picks?” Nick asked, pretending innocence, but his grin betrayed him.

She sighed dramatically, as if the conversation had suddenly bored her. “Yes, it’s one of them. But I’m applying to, like, four. Whichever one takes me first, I’m going with it. I like all of them. I don’t have time to be picky.”

Chris caught the twitch in Nick’s smile. He was plotting something—Chris could see it in his eyes, like Nick was already imagining being on the same campus as her.

Sienna went on, twirling a strand of her hair. “I’ve got Cedar Point, Rivercrest, Westview, and—ugh, don’t laugh—Glendale Arts and Sciences. I want options. I’m not putting all my eggs in one basket.”

Nick nodded thoughtfully, like he’d just received a secret map.

“What about you, Chris?” Jin asked suddenly. His gaze was sharp, though not unkind. “Where are you applying?”

Chris paused, tapping his pen against his notebook. He’d told Ash weeks ago that he’d think about it—that he’d look around, weigh his options. But truthfully, the decision had been made the second Ash had leaned across that late–night call and suggested, almost offhandedly, you should just come to mine.

The name felt like a quiet spark in Chris’ chest. Silverleaf University. A prestigious, competitive school two states away. The kind of place that would impress anyone—but for Chris, the only pull was that Ash was there.

“I’m… looking at Silverleaf,” Chris said, letting the words fall as casually as he could.

Nick’s brows lifted. “Silverleaf? That’s top–tier.”

“Yeah,” Jin agreed, “their academics are insane. You’d have to really want it.”

Chris only shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too obviously. “I think I do.”

The porch swing creaked as Sienna shifted, tilting her head at him. “Silverleaf, huh? That’s where Ash is, right?”

Chris hesitated, then nodded.

She narrowed her eyes, then made the kind of face you’d make if someone offered you spoiled milk. “Nope. Never. Not in this lifetime. Not in nine lifetimes. You couldn’t pay me to go there.”

Her dramatics drew a round of laughter from the group, but for Chris, it only added fuel to the fire bubbling inside him. If she wasn’t going, if she hated the idea that much, then it meant… freedom. No teasing smirks in the hallways, no sly whispers when he looked too happy around Ash. Just him, Ash, and the life waiting on that campus.

Chris ducked his head quickly, covering his grin by scribbling in his notebook. The thought alone made his chest hum.

Nick shook his head. “Girl, you’re wild. Silverleaf is a dream school for half the country, and you’re saying no like it’s a cafeteria lunch.”

Sienna leaned back, utterly unbothered. “Dream school for you, maybe. For me? Not even close.”

“Guess that’s one less person I’ll have to compete with,” Chris said lightly, and for once, his voice didn’t waver.

The conversation spilled into more laughter and banter—Nick and Sienna trading barbs about Cedar Point, Jin explaining Hamilton’s essay prompts like he’d already memorized them. But through it all, Chris’ mind stayed fixed on one thing:

Silverleaf.

Ash.

And the quiet, dangerous thrill of knowing his path was already set.

Four days.

That was all that stood between Chris and Ash.

He hadn’t thought it possible to be this excited for anything. Maybe the only memory that could compete was the day his parents told him he was going to have a little sister — the endless grin, the jittery, restless joy. That same spark was buzzing inside him now, but louder, sharper, because this wasn’t just anyone coming back. It was Ash.

And somehow, the clock seemed to move slower with every hour.

At least Tianna was back too. His older sister had returned from school a day earlier, luggage dumped in the corner of her room, already sprawling across the couch like she’d never left.

“God, Chris, never date a college guy,” she announced between bites of chips. Her tone was dramatic, like she was warning him about a cursed object in a movie.

Chris raised an eyebrow from the armchair, phone balanced loosely in his hands. “Good to see you too, Tianna.”

“I’m serious,” she insisted, tossing another chip in her mouth. “They’re all the same. Charming at first, but absolute trash when it matters. Don’t let the hoodies and the textbooks fool you.”

Chris tried not to laugh. “Since when do you give relationship PSAs?”

“Since I made the mistake of dating a crackhead in disguise,” she shot back, though her grin was wry. “He looked like he had it all together — grades, social life, the whole ‘college dream’ package. But nope. Just another disappointment. Honestly, I should start a podcast. Reasons College Guys Are the Actual Worst.”

Chris shook his head, pretending to scroll, but his mind snagged on her words. He wasn’t about to take her seriously, not really. Ash wasn’t even in school when he met him. He was home, not out on some campus. Still, something about her rant left a tickle of unease in his chest.

Better. He was better. Different. Right?

Tianna wasn’t done. “They think they’re so grown, but half of them can’t even handle laundry without calling their moms. And don’t even get me started on the ones who act like they’re doing you a favor just by existing.”

Chris side-eyed her, narrowing his gaze. “Okay, hold on. When did you start caring about breakups? Last time I checked, you were queen of the zero-feelings club.”

She laughed at that, stretching her arms over her head. “Fair. But this isn’t about feelings. I’m not heartbroken, I’m… disappointed. You know? I actually thought maybe, just maybe, one of them would prove me wrong. That a ‘good college guy’ existed. And then he went ahead and proved me right instead — that they don’t.”

Her expression hardened for a split second, then softened again as she shoved another handful of chips into her mouth. Chris watched her carefully. It was strange. He’d always known Tianna as unshakable, brushing off breakups like dust on her shoulder. But now, even if she wasn’t hurt, she was clearly bothered.

Not because she cared about him, but because she hated being wrong.

Chris leaned back, exhaling. He could feel her words poking at him, trying to wedge doubt in the one place he didn’t want it. Was she doing this on purpose? Fishing for a reaction? She had to be. When did she ever care about giving him advice on love?

He wasn’t going to bite. Ash wasn’t like that. Not even close.

Before Tianna could launch into another sweeping generalization about college guys, Chris’s phone buzzed in his hand. His heart skipped when he saw the name.

Ash: hey. have time for a facetime?

Chris’s chest warmed instantly. He barely typed before hitting send.

Chris: sure.

“Uh, gotta take this,” Chris said quickly, standing before Tianna could question. “Try not to scare off the next guy you meet with your TED Talk.”

She threw a pillow at him, laughing. “No promises!”