Page 5 of All Your Tomorrows

“I like helping people,” I said.

“What are you majoring in at school?” he asked.

“Child psychology.”

“Of course you are,” he teased.

“That obvious, huh?”

“That obvious,” he agreed.

“What were you studying?” I asked.

“Sports medicine.”

“Of course you were,” I teased.

“That obvious?” he asked.

I laughed. “That obvious.”

I turned onto my street which was known as one of the party streets in our college town. Most houses were lit up and we could hear music blaring as we walked by.

“You live in one of these?” Kyler asked, eyeing the massive two-story houses that had seen better days. Some boasted frat letters over the front doors, while others had old beat-up sofas on the lawns.

I shook my head. Izzy and I lived in a small cape at the end of the block that didn’t quite fit in with the party houses on the main strip. It had been intentional. We didn’t want to be stuck in the middle of the party zone—especially since I’d be alone most of the time with Izzy traveling so much. “See that white picket fence?” I pointed in front of us.

He squinted. “No.”

I laughed. “At the very end.”

Given it was dark at the end of the street—and he didn’t say anything, I assumed he couldn’t see it.

“My best friend Izzy and I live there,” I explained.

“Who are you talking to?”

I turned in the direction of the girl who’d spoken.

She was a short blonde with a red cup in her hand staring at me from the lawn of a frat house where a loud party raged inside. “Are you wasted?” she asked, her bare feet stumbling around.

“No, but you clearly are,” Kyler said.

I stifled a grin, knowing she couldn’t hear him. “Yeah. Totally wasted,” I lied. “Killer party, huh?”

“Killer,” she repeated.

“Come on, Lynn!” someone called from the crowded front porch.

Lynn didn’t say another word before turning away and stumbling back toward the loud party.

I looked to Kyler. “Comes with the territory.”

We walked until we reached the quiet end of the street. We stopped at the white picket fence surrounding my lawn. Kyler took it all in. Our small house with decorative shutters, potted flowers by the front steps, the pretty wreath on our front door, and the absence of sofas on the freshly-cut grass. “Nowthismakes sense,” he said.

“What does?”

“I didn’t take you for a party girl.”

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