The security guard on campus is nice enough to tell me where the D building is, and I wonder if he really thinks I’m young enough to be a student. I’m going to believe that he does. This was a crazy idea. I protested the whole thing the second Abby suggested it, but I secretly hope that it works. It’s not like Brandon to not answer me, he must be really angry, and I don’t know if this is going to help the situation or seal our fate forever.

It’s time to fight for what I want, and one thing that I’ve known with perfect clarity through all of my bullshit is that I want Brandon. I want him more than anything else. I may have crossed a line with him that can’t be uncrossed, but that’s why I’m here. I finally find the D building on this maze of a campus after a few twists and turns, and I park out in the middle of a giant lot that seems miles away from the actual building. I remember this from my undergrad days. I can’t believe I did this all the time. By the time I reach the building I’m practically sweating.

I looked up his class schedule to make sure I had the right day and time. Brandon’s Introduction to American Literature course is scheduled from 12:15-2:45, and I when I check my phone I see that it’s 2:30. The class is scheduled in one of those giant lecture halls like you see on all TV shows. I find the room and sneak in, quietly, while Brandon is still lecturing. I’m sitting in the back row with a bunch of kids who look like they graduated high school last night. The smell of weed back here is almost overwhelming, and everyone is on their phone. Is this what college was like, and I just forgot? I feel like I went to class with, you know, notebooks and pens and stuff.

Brandon can’t see me. I’d be a dot to him from this far away, and I slump down in my seat behind this giant of a kid to make sure I stay invisible, but I can hear. Brandon’s voice is powerful, and it carries all the way to the back of the lecture hall. Even in the midst of this drama between us, it’s really sexy to hear him lecturing to a room full of people. I peek out from behind the giant kid to steal a glance. I can just barely make him out, but even at this distance he cuts a striking figure, tall as day.

Fifteen minutes comes and goes quickly—not that these kids would even notice, they all seem zombified on Instagram and Snapchat, or just texting each other from across the room. This is the future of America, huh? Brandon dismisses the class right on time, and as everyone disperses, a few students stay behind and surround him, talking about whatever you talk to a professor about after a class is over.

I lay back, trying to be discreet so that he doesn’t see me and get distracted. After his little group vanishes, one by one, he looks up, expecting one last student, only he sees me instead. He looks surprised—very surprised. I know this is a sneak attack, and on some level, I hate forcing a conversation on him when he clearly needs some space, but I also need to know where we stand on things.

“I don’t know about them, but I, for one, was really into it.” My attempt at humor falls flat, with him not smiling at all, and the smile I’d hoped would be contagious rapidly fading from my face. “Sorry. I needed to see you.”

“I see that.”

“Can we talk? Like, really talk. I don’t have it in me to fight again.”

I know that he doesn’t have any other classes scheduled today, so if he refuses me I know that he really doesn’t want to see me. “Walk with me. I have to stop by my office and pick up some papers that were due today.”

It’s not much, but it’s not a no. “Yeah, let’s walk.”

Brandon gathers his stuff, grabbing his briefcase and materials and leading the way out of the lecture hall. He looks really good dressed up. He’s wearing a blazer, dress pants, and a dress shirt. The fact that he looks so good makes this even harder. I wish he’d speak to me the way I’m used to him speaking to me, but he’s hardly making eye contact, and he seems less than thrilled to see me. Outside of the building there are a sea of students transitioning from one class to another, walking in all directions and making a lot of noise. Brandon walks fast, and I have to move my little legs faster than normal just to keep up.

I follow him to his office, which is two buildings away from the D building. Still not a word to me. He doesn’t ask why I came, or what I want, he just does his business with me following behind him like a puppy. I guess this is my punishment. I don’t care, I didn’t expect this to be easy, so I just follow along as he grabs a stack of papers from his mailbox, briefly speaks to a student who’s waiting for him outside of the building. After all that I follow him through the parking lot to his car.

“Listen, I don’t even know where to begin, Brandon. Saying that I’m sorry doesn’t really cover it. I know that I shouldn’t have lied to you, I just didn’t know. . .”

“Didn’t know what?” he asks, sounding annoyed like he did last night, only a little less so.

“Didn’t know what to say to you when I first met you.”

“So instead of just introducing yourself, or telling me your favorite flavor of ice cream, you decided to invent a mentally ill brother, and then keep up the lie the entire time we’ve been together?” When he says it like that it sounds horrible. It is horrible, but hearing it laid out like that, from his mouth, makes his anger completely valid. I still haven’t told him about me. Right now, he thinks I just made up a story to get to know him. I should tell him the whole truth, because that would explain that it wasn’t just a frivolous lie, and that I’m not a liar just for its own sake. But is this how I’m going to do it? Confessing all of my darkest secrets in a parking lot in the middle of the afternoon, surrounded by twenty-year-olds going to their next class?

“Look, I messed up, okay? I realize that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but that was the only thing I made up. I’m not some pathological liar, Brandon. Everything between us is real. Everything that happened really happened. That was all real.” He keeps messing with his bag, finding things to do to avoid looking at me. I put my hand on his, stopping him from avoiding me, and he finally looks at me. This time his sad eyes are back. I guess he used up his angry eyes last night. “Talk to me. Please. Say something. Anything.”

“Get in. I need to show you something.”

He doesn’t explain, just opens up his passenger side door and asks me to get in one more time. I sit down, not sure exactly what’s going on. He gets in and we start driving, and I’m totally confused. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere that’ll explain everything I need to explain to you.”

His words are ominous, and I’m unsure of where we’re headed, but I still trust him. The university fades into the distance as we drive to I don’t know where.