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“After all this, we could have just gone to any of the five Dunkin’s across the street.” Paulina marvels at the intricate pattern of frosting on the donuts. “But there’s something special about this one, isn’t there?”

Even if Dunkin’ is like Starbucks in its ubiquity, there aren’t any in Washington State, and it’s still something of a novelty for two West Coasters.

“We have them in California,” Paulina explains. “But they’re nowhere near as popular. And Dunkin’ was founded here, so technically we’re supporting a local business.”

“True.” I take another bite, unable to sit with the awkwardness much longer. “Okay, this might sound weird, but… I’ve been convinced that you hate me?”

Paulina’s eyes go wide. “What? No! Why would you think that?”

“You barely spend any time in our room.”

For a few moments, she doesn’t say anything, just chews silently. “I guess I’ve been really busy with school,” she finally explains, a bit of a mask settling over her features. “A lot of homework. A lot of study groups.”

While I get the feeling there’s more to the story, at least I’m fairly certain now that it’s not about me. A difficult thing for an anxious, overthinking perfectionist to admit, but college is supposed to be a place for maturity and growth.

She tells me more about her major—she’s studying business of creative enterprises and wants to work in music management.

“I love music and want to be near it all the time,” she says, taking the last bite of her donut. “But I can’t play anything to save my life.”

“Favorite bands?” I ask, and this leads us into a ten-minute conversation during which she names at least a dozen I’ve never heard of.

“Perfect,” she says when I tell her about creative writing. “My bands can play the soundtrack for your future movie adaptation.”

“It’s a deal.”

As we re-layer ourselves to make the trek back to campus, the idea of transferring seems as ridiculous as it would have a few months ago. How could one person not feel indebted to the other? Maybe I just needed to remember why I picked Boston to begin with.

All it took was a single night. A single adventure.

Maybe that’s what I need to do with Neil, too.

HOWL, EAST COAST EDITION

An embarrassingly over-the-top tourist

A spot tourists don’t know about

A local delicacy

A street that shares a name with one in Seattle (numbered ones don’t count!)

Your favorite place in the city

Wildlife in action

Street art that really ~moves you~

Something that reminds you of me

14

NEIL

WHEN I MENTION the scavenger hunt to Skyler, he immediately wants in. I should have known—Skyler’s never met a game he didn’t like. He turns laundry into basketball, dinner into rounds of “Would You Rather.” I’m still reeling from last week’s revelation that he’d rather speak to animals than speak every language in the world. “Just think what we could learn from them,” he said, sounding awed.

Now his gaze flicks over Rowan’s list one more time before he passes back my phone. “This is excellent. Do you want help? I could ask Adhira if she wants to come too—she loves this kind of stuff. Hopeless romantic,” he adds with a roll of his eyes.

I’m surprised to discover that I don’t hate the idea of having other people to do this with, and when I ask Rowan if my roommate and his friends can join, she agrees that we can enlist the help of others. During Howl, she and I were together almost the whole time. That was what made it great.