“I go here now. To UCF. I just moved back,” he says, finally meeting my eyes. It’s as if he wants his look to convey an inner meaning his words won’t allow. And when my heart flips, stupidly I want his look to say I’m back for you, this whole year was a mess let’s run away together and never look back. But I can’t want that. I can’t allow myself to get hopeful again, not after what he did. I hated him once – I have to remember that, and not the way his lips felt on mine.”
