Page 14 of Stops Along the Way
With my own bed in my own dorm room, though. Not sharing a twin mattress with Amelia like last night. My sister still kicks in her sleep. There are some things that time can never change. Her roommate is leaving today, so I’ll get the spare bed tonight, at least.
A set of lost parents wanders by. I don’t hear them at first, but they approach me. “Excuse me, can you point us to the dining hall? Our son is in an exam, and we’re looking for something to eat.”
I stand—not sure why, except it feels more efficient to do so while pointing. “The dining hall is that way.” I gesture very vaguely, hoping they don’t ask for more specifics, because I don’t have them. Instead, I offer, “But the food at the nook by the library is really good.”
“Oh, we just saw the library. Let’s try that,” the wife says, patting her husband’s arm. “Thank you,” she says to me as they walk away.
I sit back down and scroll through my phone before deciding it’s much more interesting to people watch. A few dudes have commandeered a large portion of the quad to play Frisbee. Some sorority girls in matching T-shirts hurry past, all talking over each other, excitedly making plans. A professor with no fewer than five tote bags slung over their shoulders takesa final bite of an apple before tossing it in the trash. And walking this way is a guy with floppy dark hair who kind of looks like Declan.
I blink and shake my head, turning to look the other direction. Why am I seeing his face? The way he’s been keeping track of all my match losses must really be doing a number on me.
Technically, it’s our wins side by side, but that feels like giving him too much credit.
“Iris?” The guy who looks like Declan is standing right in front of me.
ItisDeclan.
The confirmed recognition lights up in his crinkling eyes. “Couldn’t go a Tuesday without seeing me?”
He’s not in one of his usual hoodies, which must’ve thrown me off. We’re both cosplaying college students and stepping out of our usual attire. I borrowed sweats from Amelia’s closet, while Declan is wearing a loose brown T-shirt, and for some reason, it draws my attention right to his arms.
“Um, Declan?” My eyes narrow as I jump to my feet. Should I swipe the air to make sure he’s not some sort of twisted mirage?
Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, he’s holding his arms out wide, and I instinctively greet him with a hug. My thoughts immediately cascade with further confusion. We’re hugging. We hug now? In all the years we’ve known each other, I’ve never hugged this boy before.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He takes a seat on the bench, so I lower back to where I was sitting. “I was about to ask you that,” he says.
My cheeks flush, and I feel caught out somehow, even though I have a perfectly legitimate reason for being here. “I’m picking up my sister.”
“I’m here to get my brother.”
I’m growing more baffled by this outcome. “I didn’t even know you had a brother. A freshman?”
“Sophomore,” he says. “I knew you had a sister because she used to show up to Roll Again when you first started playing. She’s just a year older than us, right?”
We lock eyes. My chin juts forward, shoulders hunched. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry or call my mom. “Okay, seriously, I feel like I’m being pranked.”
He slides across the bench, staring straight ahead at the quad as he leans his head toward my shoulder while asking “How so?”
If I turn, I’ll be right on top of him. I look ahead as well. “What are the odds that you and I are going to the same collegeandour siblings go to the same school too? This doesn’t feel probable in the slightest.”
He clicks his tongue, sitting upright, seeming to be seriously considering this calculation. “Probably notthatstatistically significant, although there’s a handful of schools that Midwest kids usually end up at. Though this small college isn’t really one of them.” He scratches the edge of his lips with his thumb. “Pretty unlikely, I have to admit. A rare occurrence.”
I make a sour face for the briefest moment. I think I catch myself quickly enough, trying to return to a neutral expression, but Declan notices, and I hope he doesn’t assume it has anything to do with him.
“What?” he asks.
“I just—I don’t like rare odds.”
“Why not?” He leans forward, almost giddy. “I think it’s cool. Of all the college campuses across the country, of all the days of the week and the hours in a day, you and I ended up sitting here together right now.” Seriously, he’s such a nerd.
“Maybe toyouit seems like a cool thing. But to me it’s proof that just because something is unlikely doesn’t mean that it won’t happen.”
“Did I tell you I’m majoring in statistics?” Another cheeky grin. It’s weird seeing a whole new side of Declan. He’s smiling so much. Too much.
It’s contagious, so I smile too. “Of course you are. I’m very familiar with your love of numbers.” I gesture from us to the campus and back to me and him. “Then tell me—what exactly are the odds that you ended up in front of me right now?”
