Chapter 1

After coming home from my exchange program, the trivia board I drew at the party was Francis Matthews.

Everyone jeered and laughed as they asked me:

"Beryl Swanson, tell us Francis's height, weight, hobbies... measurements... and how long he lasts?"

I answered every one, exactly right.

Six-one, one hundred fifty-nine pounds, basketball, eight inches, and how long he lasts is...

I paused, then finished it calmly: "Eighty-six minutes."

Fifty questions about Francis. I got a perfect score.

Kathleen Barnes propped her chin on her hand. "Don't tell me you're actually Francis's girlfriend?"

Someone jumped in at once:

"Probably, right? Wasn't she the one who got jealous over the study-abroad placement in England, and stormed off to do two years of exchange out of spite?"

"And back then, that deciding vote? Francis cast it for Kathleen!"

"Chased him for five years, and in the end couldn't even earn a title!"

Francis leaned back into the couch, his tone flat. "No. Just neighbors."

I took a light sip of my juice. "And never will be, either."

Francis suddenly smiled, his voice sneering:

"What, done chasing?"

I looked at him, and to my surprise, I didn't hurt at all.

Because it hit me all at once that I hadn't lost to anyone.

I had simply, finally, stopped loving Francis.

...

The party wore on, and the talk didn't stop.

Someone asked with a grin, "Beryl, these two years abroad, did you really not follow any news back home?"

"Not much," I said mildly.

"Then do you not know Francis and Kathleen have been together nearly every day these two years?"

"Together in the lab, together at meals, they even went to school events together."

Someone drew out the words,

"On the forums they've been the number one sweetest couple, solid as can be! You're telling me that's not together?"

Kathleen sat beside Francis, her cheeks tinting faintly pink.

"Don't go saying things that aren't true."

That was what she said, but she didn't push away the hand Francis had resting at her waist.

Laughter rippled through the private room.

"Just friends, with a hand on the waist?"

"Oh~ friends with lips, is that it?"

Francis didn't deny it. His palm gave a light squeeze at Kathleen's side.

I lowered my eyes, my chest as calm as a pool of dead water.

Two years ago, I would have lain awake all night just because they'd shared a single meal.

I would have gone through Francis's messages over and over, wondering why he picked her up himself, why he shielded her in front of everyone, yet would never once admit I was his girlfriend.

Looking at it now, it was nothing after all.

Kathleen suddenly stood, carrying a glass over to me.

"Beryl, let me toast you. About the study placement back then, I really never meant to take your spot..."

I stared at the plain silver band on her ring finger, and all at once I remembered the summer after the SATs.

Francis took me to a jewelry shop and bent over the work for a long time, his knuckles rubbed red.

I asked what he was making.

He said a couple's ring.

"Who said I'd wear a couple's ring with you?"

"Then forget it."

That was what he said, but when he finished, he slid one of them onto my finger.

The size was exactly right.

That was the first time he ever took my hand on his own, and the first time he ever admitted we were together.

Later, during our last fight, I pulled the ring off and threw it at him.

I thought he'd toss it, or keep it.

I never imagined he'd turn around and give it to Kathleen.

The people around us started egging me on.

"Beryl, drink up! Sweet little Kathleen came all the way over to toast you."

"Don't tell me one trip abroad and you're too scared to even drink now?"

I lifted my own juice and clinked it lightly against hers.