I sign each page as Dylan flips the pages for me. He already signed his portion at the lawyer’s office. When I sign on the last line, a tremendous weight lifts off my shoulders. I give out a big sigh. Suddenly, I’m 300 pounds lighter.

“We’re divorced!” Dylan grabs me by the shoulders, wrapping his arms around me. “Divorced! Let’s celebrate.”

“Woohoo!” Juliet says. “Finally.”

“Who wants a beer?” Dylan asks, getting himself one from the refrigerator.

“Wait, remind me, isn’t it alcohol that got you into this mess in the first place?” Juliet asks.

“Oh, whatever, buzz kill,” Dylan waves his arm at her dismissively. “Alice?”

I shake my head no.

“I still have some work to do tonight,” I say. “And honestly, given how long it took for all of this to happen, I’m going to pass on partying with you for a while.”

Dylan is the only one who celebrates our divorce that night, but we all take a rain check. And even for him, it’s not much of a party. He has only one beer and disappears into his room. Juliet disappears into our room soon after to get ready for another date.

“Congratulations,” Tristan says without looking up from his textbook.

“Oh, thanks,” I say.

I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. So I go back to taking a quiz about the decade that I should’ve grown up in on BuzzFeed.

“I know it wasn’t your fault how long all of this was taking,” Tristan says. This time he looks straight at me.

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Okay. Well, I guess what I wanted to say is that I know that, too.”

“Okay, I guess,” I say.

I hate the weirdness that exists between us when we’re alone. In fact, I can’t stand it. I’m about to get up and leave when Tristan stops me.

“So, Kathryn and I aren’t together anymore,” he says.

“Oh. Okay,” I say. I don’t really know how to respond to that. It’s so out of the blue. “I didn’t really know you were dating.”

“Yeah, ever since that night…of the party,” he says.

That’s one way of putting it. Another is since that night when she slept over and you made her coffee in the morning. Or since that night when she slept over and Dr. Worthington came in and made a huge scene.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, I guess,” I say.

“Don’t be. It just didn’t work out,” he says with a shrug.

“Tristan, why are you telling me this?” I ask.

Are you trying to hurt me? I want to ask. But I don’t.

“I don’t know,” he says. The expression on his face tells me that he’s not really trying to hurt me at all. He’s just over-sharing for no reason whatsoever.

“Did something happen?” I ask. I don’t mean to. I don’t care. Actually, I don’t want to know. But my mouth gets away from me.

“She cheated on me,” he says quietly.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“But it wasn’t working out even before that. We just didn’t fit right,” Tristan says.

I’m still sitting on the couch and suddenly he gets up and sits down next to me. Very close. So close that I can feel his breath on my face.

“I’m not sure if it will ever be right with anyone else,” he says.

“Of course it will,” I say, waving my hand.

It sounds like he’s just having a moment. He’s just throwing himself a pity party. But when I look back at him, and I see the way his eyes refuse to leave mine, I know that I’m wrong. He’s serious.

“What I mean is that I kept trying to make myself feel like I did when we were first together. Not just with Kathryn, but with all the others.”

“What?” I know I should be focusing on the first thing that he said. The first part of the sentence that’s a compliment to me. But instead, all I focus is on is the second part.

“All the others?” I ask, when he doesn’t reply.

“Well, you know.” He shrugs. “Just all the other girls that I was with this semester.”

“Oh, okay,” I say with a gulp.

“Don’t worry, we weren’t serious. Just girls I met at the bar after work. Very casual,” Tristan says. He’s clearly not aware of the fact that I’m screaming on the inside. What girls? You were seeing other girls? How many? Why?

“Kathryn and I were dating, but we weren’t exclusive. And I just kept meeting these girls downtown. And you know what, at the beginning of the night, I had hope that this was the one that was going to give me butterflies. Like this is the one that will catch my attention. But after a night together, I just felt…flat. Like it was nothing.”

I can’t stand this anymore.

“Tristan, why are you telling me all this? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“No, not at all. I’m saying it as a compliment.”

“What?”

“Yes, very inarticulately, I guess. What I’m really saying is that I keep looking for the same connection that we had and it’s just not there. You’re one in a million, Alice. Maybe one in a billion.”

I take a deep breath. Tristan always had an odd way with words. Just when I think that he’s trying to be mean or is being dense on purpose, he goes out there and gives me the biggest compliment ever. I’m mad at him for saying all the rest, but I can’t stay mad for long because I don’t hear that kind of thing everyday.

“Well, thank you, I guess,” I say. I turn around to leave, but he stops me again. Seems to be in at talkative mood tonight.

“So what’s up with you?” Tristan asks. “We haven’t really spoken in ages.”

“Well, I just got divorced,” I joke. He smiles. And we both laugh about the situation. I figured that it would be years before this happened, but apparently I didn’t have to wait that long.

“Actually, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I have to do this final speech in public speaking class. It’s going to be in a big auditorium in front of all the sessions of the class. I’m terrified, of course, to say the least.”

“So you want help with the speech?” he asks, his eyes light up.

“No.” I shake my head. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he would want to help. “I just wanted to invite you to it. I have something important to say and, if I can get it out, I’d like for you to hear it.”

“Oh, wow, okay,” he says. “Let me know the time and place and I’ll try to make it then.”

“Try?” I ask.

“I’ve disappointed you enough this semester. I don’t want to make yet another promise I can’t keep,” he says.

“Okay, fair enough.”

“Wow, look at us,” Tristan says after a moment. “I guess it is possible to be friends even after all that has happened this semester. Hey, here’s a wild idea, want to be roommates again next year?”

I stare at him. It suddenly occurs to me that he doesn’t know about my plans for USC. I thought that he would find out eventually given the rumor mill that Juliet and Dylan usually operate, but I guess this one fell through the cracks.

“What? What’s wrong?” Tristan asks me.

“Well, I thought that you knew already, but I’m not going to be here next year.”

“What?”

All the color in his face disappears. His lips start to turn an awful blue tint as if he’s been swimming in freezing water for an hour.

“I’m thinking about going to USC,” I say. Why do I always do that? Use qualifiers where they don’t belong. “Well, no, not thinking. I’m going to transfer to USC for next year,” I clarify.

“Why?”

“Because…because of a variety of reasons. I just think it’s for the best.”

“How can you say that? Are you doing this because of what happened between us? And you and Dylan? Well, that’s all over. It’s in the past. Let bygones be bygones. You don’t have to go all the way clear across the country because of that.”

Tristan rambles on for close to twenty minutes about all the reasons that I shouldn’t leave New York City. I listen carefully and not. I’m afraid that if I actually engage in this discussion, I’ll never get to bed tonight. I look at him trying to convince me, fighting for me to stay, and a big portion of me loves it. He’s actually passionate and animated about something and not so reserved and calculated. I can see that he cares about me. I can see it in the way that he’s fighting for me to stay. And I appreciate it, really. But it doesn’t change my mind. It’s all too little too late.