The university was the part Jay had been thinking about most.
Not because he was afraid of it exactly. More because returning to a place that knew you before something happened was its own particular kind of thing. The campus would look the same. The buildings, the courtyard, the coffee cart by the library. But everyone in it would know.
That was the part.
He went back on a Tuesday.
Roman had offered to drive him. Jay had said no the same way he always said no to things he needed to do himself, and Roman had said fine and handed him a travel mug of coffee at the door without commenting on any of it.
Jay took the bus.
He got to campus at eight forty-five. He walked through the main gate and the courtyard and nobody stopped him or stared longer than a second or treated him like anything other than a student walking to class. The leaves on the courtyard trees were the amber and gold of October. The coffee cart was exactly where it had always been.
He bought a coffee.
