Page 154 of The Havenport Collection

Josh

I cebreakers were stupid and pointless and torture for an introvert like me.

And I cursed my father for forcing me to attend this extra program.

As a pre-med student, I had been invited to an additional orientation to get to know my fellow pre-med students—or the competition, as my dad called them—and tour the labs, attend seminars, and network with alumni in the field.

I hadn’t wanted to attend, but here I was, sporting a name badge and a healthy dose of skepticism.

College was a strange and surreal experience thus far.

I had already survived general orientation, and while most kids were stocking up on pens and highlighters at the bookstore, I was sitting in a circle on the grass with my fellow pre-med students, doing more silly shit.

I closed my eyes and wished I could be back in my dorm room reading manga like any self-respecting science nerd.

We were doing another round of two truths and a lie— no, Madison, no one cares that you once met Diane Sawyer at an airport —when a girl rushed over to our group.

“Is this pre-med orientation? So sorry I’m late.”

I looked up and was greeted by the prettiest pair of green eyes I had ever seen.

She stood there in torn jeans and a periodic table T-shirt, her raven hair swept up in a ponytail.

She had on red Chuck Taylors and was carrying a massive backpack.

Her beauty was of the natural variety. Unlike some girls on campus, she wasn’t wearing loads of makeup or sky-high heels to orientation. But she took my breath away anyway.

She plopped onto the grass across from me and met my eyes.

I almost fainted when she smiled at me. In high school, I hadn’t had a great deal of success with girls.

I’d always had friends who were girls and went to dances and parties, but I’d never had a girlfriend.

Shy and awkward and nerdy didn’t do it for most.

But I was in college now, so surely I could work up the confidence to talk to a pretty girl, especially since we were both pre-med.

After our mandatory bonding time was over, I thought about talking to her, but I wasn’t surprised when several other guys rushed up to chat with her while we walked to our next destination.

It didn’t escape my notice that she attracted the stares of every guy, including our TA, who was a twentysomething graduate student.

It had to be the combination of her green eyes, dark hair, and rosy lips.

She was a science dork in the body of a Disney princess.

And I wasn’t the only guy who’d noticed.

I sighed as I trudged behind the group. A goddess like that definitely had a boyfriend. There was no way some lucky asshole hadn’t already locked her down. So I resolved to do the only thing I could do: become her friend and quietly pine for her.

By the time I reached the evening mixer, I was feeling a bit better. Hopefully I could catch a glimpse of her and maybe, if I was really lucky, introduce myself properly. As always, I was early, so I took a seat in the corner of the student lounge, cursing my pathological punctuality.

I was deep in my own head when I felt someone approach.

“Is this the physics review?” I looked up into a pair of sparkling green eyes. It was the girl from orientation.

I coughed and sputtered, unsure of how to even talk to a girl like this.

When I had recovered the power of speech, I smiled and gestured for her to sit.

“Thanks for showing up before me and not making me feel like a chronically early dork. I was so embarrassed that I was late this afternoon, so I left my dorm way too early.”

I shrugged. “My dad always taught me that on time is late, and—”

“Fifteen minutes early is on time,” she finished, smiling. “My dad used to say that too. My mother is always late, and it drove him crazy.”

“Your dad and my dad would probably be friends,” I said.

Her face fell. “He passed away when I was thirteen,” she said. “Sorry. I don’t know why I just told you that. I don’t even know your name, and here I am spilling my guts like an idiot.” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and peeked up at me from under her lashes.

I was flooded with visions of what it would be like to kiss her, to hold her, to love her.

Finally gaining a little control over myself, I held out my hand. “Joshua Hardy, but you can call me Josh.”

She shook it firmly, sending a shiver down my spine the moment we touched.

“Margaret Leary, but you can call me Maggie,” she said, giving me a wink.

“So, since we’re friends now, tell me all about yourself, Josh.”

“I’m a freshman. Pre-med. I live in Wheeler, and I’m from just outside Boston.”

She nodded, those green eyes flecked with gold studying me intently.

“Oh. And this is awkward, but my mom is dead too.” I cringed the second the words left my mouth.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Josh.” She covered my hand with hers.

My entire body felt warm and tingly at her touch. “It’s okay.” I brought a hand to the back of my neck. “And, uh, since we have so much in common, I think we should be friends…”

“I’d like that.” She pressed her lips together in a small smile.

By the time the lame freshman mixer wrapped up, it was almost ten. I stood and stretched, watching as her gaze flitted quickly to my abs. I had spent the summer at the gym, and I vowed in that moment to continue if it meant Maggie would look at me like that again.

I couldn’t hide my smile and decided to go for it. “I’m starving,” I said. “Wanna grab a slice?”

She looked at me, her brow furrowed. “Of pizza?”

“Yeah. You need to eat, right?”

“It’s late.”

I shrugged. “We’re in college and in the city. I’ll take you to my favorite place. The slices are only two dollars, and they’re as big as your head.”

“Um…” She was waffling.

I didn’t want the night to end; I would break into song if it meant I could spend a few extra moments with her. So I would buy her a slice of pizza and learn everything I possibly could about Maggie Leary.

“Classes haven’t even started yet, Maggie,” I said, offering her my arm.

She stood up and took it. “Okay, fine. Pizza sounds amazing right now.”

I fell in love with Maggie that night. Between the pizza, the heated debate about manga, and her sarcastic sense of humor, I was gone. We quickly became inseparable, coordinating our classes and studying together almost every day.

By Thanksgiving break, I knew she was the woman I would marry. I was hopelessly in love with her. And how could I not be? She was effortlessly beautiful, smart, and driven. And her kindness, her empathy, and her goodness shone through in everything she did.

We became best friends—cramming for exams, working late in the lab, and commiserating over the rigor of the pre-med program.

And in the fall of our sophomore year, we became more.

And the day I was lucky enough to call her mine, I vowed I would do everything in my power to make her happy for the rest of her life.