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SYMPHONY

S ummer school on campus consists of two short semesters. The first one ends with only a week’s break before the next. I work full time between them and then go back to my usual hours when classes restart.

Jenna is taking session two off, and Bailey is done with coursework, so only Marietta and I sit in the grass on the first day, waiting for class.

She lies on her back, looking up at the sky. There are no trees on the main lawn, so we’re in full sun, sweating our butts off. I’m not working today, so I wear shorts and a sleeveless shirt, both pale yellow to match my hair.

“Did you ever decide what you’re doing about the strip club?” I ask her.

“I didn’t go back. But I signed up for pole dancing.” She rolls on her side, her eyes bright. “Turns out I have a pretty strong core. I’m already able to fan kick.”

I have no idea what that is, but I nod vigorously. “That’s great!”

“It’s serious exercise. Maybe if I get good enough, it will make up for my lack of boobs.”

She hasn’t talked about going back to the bar, even though I know she was all about Merrick for a while. Maybe the urge has passed. Or maybe she knows she’s lost her partner in crime. I can’t imagine going out there and seeing Diesel after everything.

Most times when I think of him, I picture his wild hair swinging to one side, his flashing eyes, and the tattoos across his chest and arms.

This tends to lead to thoughts of him over me, behind me, standing above me. Every time we came together feels seared into my memory.

I forgot my sunglasses, so I have to close my eyes when the clouds part and the brightness level gets intense. We chill for a while, listening to birds and random conversations passing by on the sidewalk.

Then, Marietta nudges me, and I cup my fingers along my eyebrows, trying to shade my fried retinas.

Everything is hazy and white. “What?” I ask her.

She bumps me again. “Look.”

“At what?” I peer across the grass, my vision slowly adjusting. Objects take shape in the brightness. Buildings. Lamp poles. People moving along the sidewalk.

I see a familiar form. Tall. Broad shoulders. Thick arms. A lumbering, sexy stride.

My chest pangs, and it takes a second to realize it’s because it thinks I’m looking at Diesel.

But then the details fill in.

And it is Diesel!

I sit up, brushing grass off my shorts. What is he doing here?

He spots me and stops walking about ten feet away. He’s wearing normal blue jeans rather than black and a white T-shirt unexpectedly free of skulls.

“Symphony,” he says, and it’s not a question. He nods at us. “Marietta.”

I drag myself to my feet. I touch my hair self-consciously. It’s thrown into a messy bun. I don’t have a lick of makeup on. I took a break from any kind of primping since I didn’t have to go to work.

But Diesel’s looking at me like I’m Sabrina Carpenter in a spangly one-piece.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey.” He shifts a backpack on his shoulder, and I do a double take.

A backpack? Diesel?

He looks so normal, his hair a wave to one side, his gray eyes lighter outdoors. He could be any student in grad school. Even the chaos of tattoos down his arms fit in these days.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. It can’t be for me. It doesn’t make sense.

His gaze holds mine. “Remember that scene at the end of Grease when Danny wears his letterman jacket to appeal to Sandy?”

My heart speeds up. “Yeah.”

He shrugs. “I’m lettering in art.”

What is he talking about? It takes a moment for this to sink in. “You’re taking art class?”

“Yeah. Auditing it. I couldn’t enroll for credit this late, but they’re letting me see how it goes.”

My mouth is so dry, I’m not sure I can even speak. Diesel is … changing?

Like Danny in Grease ?

Does that mean I’m his Sandy?

Marietta stands beside me. “What about the Leaky Skull?”

“Merrick will run it while I’m in school.”

“You quitting the bar?” I ask.

“Not completely. But maybe there’s still some Dean in the Diesel.” His gaze bores into mine.

God, I’ve missed him. I’ve thought about us over and over, hoping he’s gotten back with his family. Wishing I could return to that last day and make him see what we could be.

To tell him how I felt but was afraid to admit to someone like him.

“So, what now, Dean Diesel?” I ask.

The clock tower sounds the quarter chime, and students pour out of buildings. He glances up at it. “Can I walk you to class?”

The way he says it, along with the tilt of his head and his earnest expression, melts me all the way to the bone. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

I reach down and pick up my backpack. He’s doing it. He’s doing it. Following something of his own, not running from one thing and settling on another.

He’s being true to himself.

We walk into step beside each other, the sun bearing down. I glance back at Marietta. She bounces on her toes, clapping her hands. This makes me laugh.

“This is going to be good,” Diesel says, but there’s a tone in his words that isn’t as confident as the man I’ve gotten to know.

“Are you trying to convince yourself, or do you know it?” I ask. He said the same thing to me months ago at Bailey’s wedding.

“You using my words against me?”

“They were some pretty good fucking words,” I say. “You better be good or else .”

He lifts his arm and drapes it over my shoulder. “I’m going to make you fall in love with me.”

“How are you going to do that?” I ask.

“With my magic fingers.”

“And what if you fall in love with me?”

He draws me closer. “It might have already happened.”

My heart skips. “To Dean Diesel? Nah. Nobody lands Dean Diesel.”

He shrugs. “First time for everything.”

I lean into him. “You think it’s really going to be good?”

He grins in that way that makes my panties want to fall right off. “It’s going to be fucking perfect .”