10
Sienna.
Graduation night tasted like possibility and goodbye. The air was warm and heavy, threaded with the scent of cut grass and fireworks, a low, steady thrum of celebration rolling across campus. I wore my cap and gown until the last photo was snapped, the last hug given, my cheeks flushed with champagne and relief and exhaustion.
But even in the center of the crowd, I was waiting. For a message, for a sign from him.
At 11:13 p.m., my phone buzzed.
Rooftop. The science building. One last time. Please.
I slipped away before anyone noticed. The city was wide awake, the university awash in gold light. I climbed the narrow stairwell to the top of the science building, heart pounding.
He was there, leaning against the low wall, looking out at the city like he was memorizing it. He
