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“Over and done with,” he agrees.

“She was such a lovely young woman!” Teresa says it like Alli’s dead or something and not out there still living her perfect life. I bite back a flare of jealousy.

Lorenzo nods slowly. “Yeah. We’ve been over a long time, though.”

“For the best,” Joe says confidently. “A year from now you’ll be traveling all over this country. That’s not the time to get serious with someone.”

Lorenzo shrugs, but I can’t see his expression. That’s where I stop listening anyway.

It’s only now I can think about a long-distance relationship without worrying Lorenzo would tire of it. I trust himcompletely, and time apart doesn’t feel like a threat to us anymore—but it feels like a threat to me. The closer we get, the more I understand I need him every day. Not only his love but his presence, the comfort of his arms, his confidence when mine wavers. He’s the one I run and cry to every time I’m uncertain about school and work, every time my parents’ words rock my confidence, every time I’m in need. I don’t know whether that’s a sign of the strength of our relationship or a sign of my own lack of fortitude. The answer to that has never mattered, because he’s always been there. But without him around, what will be left of my strength? As I step out of the shade to find myself a drink, there’s a little ache in my heart that wasn’t there before.

FORTY

ruby

I haven’t even leftthe lecture hall after class when I see the email from my advisor. I open it nervously.

Ruby,

Let’s set up a meeting next week so we can discuss your career decisions. I trust you’ve had time to come to a conclusion. The time to start planning for graduate or culinary school applications is now—and I’m being generous. Remember, there’s no shame in admitting you’re not cut out for more years of school, but you need to decide. Otherwise, you’re wasting your time.

There’s no shame? Of course there’s shame. The whole reason that phrase exists is to talk people out of the shame they’re already feeling. I scowl down at the email.

“Okay, ready?” Bree asks next to me.

I wipe the scowl off my face and pocket my phone. “For what?”

“To talk to Wythe about food science club! Remember?”

Oh, yeah. Bree’s been on my ass lately about joining the club, and last class I promised to think about it. “Come on, I need to score some brownie points. Let’s tell her the good news.”

I let her link her arm in mine and steer me toward the front of the room. “I didn’t say you convinced me. I said I’d consider it, which if you know anything about me means absolutely nothing.”

She lowers her voice to a whisper. “At least pretend I convinced you. Come on, I’ll let you cheat off me.” She raises her eyebrows as we approach Wythe.

“Ladies.”

“Professor Wythe, may I introduce you to the newest member of the Shafer Food Science Club?”

Wythe looks from Bree to me with a surprised smile. “Is that so?”

“Well . . .” I start.

“Yep,” Bree cuts in.

“Wonderful. I was starting to think we’d never get you to commit, Ruby.”

Bree and I exchange a quick glance. “Well, Bree said it’s always a good time. And my résumé’s basically a blank document at this point, so ... sure.”

Bree’s phone rings, and when she sees who it is, she offers Wythe a polite “Excuse me,” tells me she’ll catch me later, and strides off, leaving us alone.

Wythe gathers a few papers off her table. “I don’t sense much enthusiasm from you regarding food science club,” she says with a knowing look. “I promise you it offers a lot of opportunities that’ll be a real advantage after college.” At her request, I’ve kept Wythe in the loop as my career plans evolve.

“I’m just worried about the time commitment. If I continue with the research chef thing, senior year is going to be brutal. I have a lot of ... slacking off to make up for.”

“So being a research chef is still an ‘if’?”

I shrug. “I’m intimidated by what it takes to get there,” I admit.