Page 125 of On His Mind

I shake my head. “No, I haven’t.”

“So, will you come?”

I tilt my head at him. “And pretend I don’t know you.”

“Could be fun.” His mouth twitches. “Sneaking around in a room full of people.”

I blush. “I’ll pass.”

“Okay,” he says, picking his book back up.

Ivory comes through the door in April already screaming.

“London. Penelope. London. I got London.” She’s got her laptop open, the email up, shoving it at me. “The Bartlett. The actual Bartlett!” She squeals. “Do you understand, I have to defer nothing, I’m in, I leave in September—”

“Oh my God.” I’m up. She grabs me, and I grab her tighter. We’re both jumping and screaming. “Ivory! London!”

“I have to buy a coat. A real coat, it rains constantly, I looked it up—” She pulls back, holding my arms, her whole face lit. “I’m going to Europe. I applied to move to three countries, and one of them said yes!”

I’m so happy for her I could cry, but there’s another reason I feel like crying. She leaves in September. I’ve had her here with me for two and a half years.

“Hey.” She squeezes my arms. “You’ll come visit. You’ll draw buildings that are older than this whole country.”

I grin. “Yeah.” I nod. “Yes.”

“And you’ll be fine here. You’ve got—” she stops, and there’s a look, and she picks her words. “You’ve got your whole life figured out. More than me. You have since we were freshmen, honestly.” Her eyes flare. “What do you think dating will be like there?”

I shrug.

She lights up. “I can’t wait to find out. London boys, like are you kidding?”

She trots off happily, talking about all the things she’s going to do. And I listen while feeling a pang in my chest that this is coming to an end. I’ll really miss her.

Renata drops the Halvorsen set on my desk on a Thursday and says, “The client wants you in the meeting.”

I look up. Renata does not bring interns into client meetings.

“Me?”

“You caught the setback thing. You solved the north face. It’s your drawing on the sheet, you can talk to it.” She’s already walking away. “Wear something professional.”

I sit there for a second and let the smile overtake my face. I intern in what my mother calls a storefront, and I finally feel like I’m being acknowledged for my hard work. I text Percy underthe desk — renata’s putting me in a client meeting — and he sends back of course she is like it was never in question. I put the phone away smiling and get back to the sheet that’s got my name on it.

The group chat lights up on a Friday, and I watch it happen without answering.

Gianna: Girls night!! My place. Penelope, I mean it this time!

Gianna: It’s been months, girl. I’m starting to think you don’t love me.

I do love her. That’s the part that’s getting harder. I type three different replies and delete all of them. I land on the deadline lie again, the studio lie, the one I’ve worn so thin I’m surprised it still holds, and I send it. Gianna sends back a broken heart, and I sit with the small cold weight of it.

Then Percy texts that he’s coming over, and the weight lifts, because it always lifts when he’s around. I put the phone down and go unlock the door.

We’re on his bed one night at the end of the term, close to summer, and he says into my hair, “The guys leave in a couple weeks. For the summer.”

“They’re all leaving?”

He nods. “Like Christmas.” His hand moves slowly on my back. “But longer. Three months.”