"When do you start?"

I heaved the glass doors of the campus cafe open, clutching my red carry cup to steal some of its warmth. "January."

"That's fantastic, Madi!" Kara squealed, nudging me with her elbow before taking a sip of her pumpkin spice latte.

I shrugged self-consciously, wrapping my hands in the sleeves of my sweater to fight off the brisk morning air. "It's just reception work."

"It's not just anything. You need to stop downplaying your achievements."

She might have had a point.

"Besides," she said, stepping back as a load of students carrying their luggage squeezed past us in the quad, "getting recommended by one of your professors is a huge deal. Getting recommended by two? You're on fire, girl!"

I raised my cappuccino to my lips, hiding the proud grin that was growing under her praise.

Ruby and Pearl—or Shay and Aubrey—stepped out of the library just before we passed. Kara raced ahead to throw her arms around the tall, slender brunette from behind, brushing her fuchsia lips against her tanned cheek.

My roommate was taking the whole 'stay away from men' thing far more literally than I ever had, and some small part of me was kind of bummed about it. I'd hoped that Kara and Dex would have taken a liking to each other.

Then again, what did I know? I was out of the matchmaking game. Indefinitely.

I was just grateful that Shay frequented our room far less than Jarrod had.

"I've never seen so many people on a Saturday morning," Aubrey remarked, lifting a ring-encrusted hand to stifle a yawn. Her almond eyes flew over the grounds around us, taking in the sea of students who were also preparing to make the trek home.

I laughed in agreement. As far as I was concerned, eight AM shouldn't exist on weekends. "Do you have anything planned for the holidays?"

"My family's going up to the coast." She tilted her head in my direction. "Near Capri, actually. My brother has a surf comp nearby."

I nodded simply, even though I knew from her vague description alone that she was referring to the Sunset Pro. I knew the competition too well, and I knew that Elijah would be there presenting the awards this year as part of his duties as reigning champion.

A soft smile pulled at my lips at the ocean of memories that came flooding through. The memory of Eli's family and I cheering him on from the shore. Of the wild sea crashing against the rocks, bathing us in the salty smell of home. Of Mr. Kovač throwing his arms around me when his son's name was plastered at the top of the scoreboard, of Elijah cutting through the adoring crowd to drag me up on stage with him. Last year, he'd thanked me when he accepted his prize. I wondered who he'd be thanking this year.

Once, the mere thought of my ex sent my heart into a wild panic. It sent my whole body into meltdown right along with it. I'd wanted to forget him so badly. I'd wanted to forget all about my past.

But that was impossible.

I was always going to remember Eli. We were inextricably linked, and I was always going to associate certain parts of my life with him. But remembering those parts didn't hurt anymore.

When I remembered my eighteenth birthday, my heart didn't fracture with the memory of betrayal. I could hear the word surfboard and eat Mexican food without feeling like I was going to buckle or break. When I logged onto Facebook and saw photos of Eli and I at school dances or on the senior class trip, I could remember the good times without feeling burdened by a cloud of lies. I could still breathe. Sometimes, I could even smile.

Kara had fallen a step back when Aubrey mentioned Capri. Subtly, she nudged me with her shoulder. An are you okay? nudge.

I nudged her back.

Because I was.

Or ... I was better. I was getting there.

Healing was a messy road. It wasn't linear, and it wasn't easy. There were good days and bad ones, sunshine and rain. But, lately, the rain seemed to come less frequently. There was more good than bad.

Heartbreak comes in waves, but I wasn't drowning anymore. Somehow, I found the courage to swim.

"What about you?" Aubrey asked as we rounded back to the dorms. She twisted her pearl necklace, tugging it softly so the beads gleamed in the morning sun. "Do you need a lift to the coast—"

"Mads!"

My loose curls caught on the breeze as I turned to follow the call. My eyes flew to the road outside of our building, landing on the waving student who'd called my name through the bustling quad.

"Tell Noah I called shotgun," Dex shouted over the fanfare, his face scrunching up into the world's most adorable frown. The subject of his complaint was blocking his entry to a white Range Rover, arms folded stubbornly beneath his chest while a smirk curled his lips.

"No," I told Aubrey. "But thank you."

Kara and Shay fell back into step beside us, and I turned to give each of them a farewell hug.

"See you next semester." My roommate pouted into my hair, prolonging our embrace for an extra two or three seconds. Her lavender perfume tickled my nose, but there was an odd sort of familiarity about the scent that stopped it from being irritating. "And don't forget to fill out your roommate request form! I can't deal with this place without you."

I laughed. "I won't." I pulled back to take one last look at her pretty face—a face so strikingly familiar that it once tied my stomach into knots with every glance. But aside from the long, platinum hair and a penchant for hot pink, my new BFF wasn't anything like my last one.

Not really.

"Send me pictures of your cat's litter!" I called over my shoulder. I threw the other girls a final wave before turning on my sneakers, taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air.

And prepping myself for the latest installment of my friends' incessant squabbling.

"What's the issue?" I groaned, stepping off the cobblestone path and onto the tarmac.

Dex combed a mittened hand through his auburn locks, then threw it up in the air rather helplessly. "Do you remember our Scrabble game the other night?"

I raised an eyebrow, pacifying him with a nod.

"Do you remember the prize?"

"Riding shotgun on the first leg of your road trip."

"Right," Dex confirmed, turning to Noah with a smug grin. "And do you remember who won?"

I grinned right back. "Me." With a triple word score and a 'z' tile, thank you very much. I nudged Dex in the ribs. "I'm starting to think that you're not really an English major."

He blew me a raspberry, but he was quick to get back to the apparently very pressing matter at hand. "But do you remember what you said when you won?"

"I—"

"You said," he interjected matter-of-factly, speaking more to Noah than to me now. "And I quote, 'I don't care who rides shotgun. I just wanted to beat your asses'. And then I said, 'Can I take your prize, Madison dear?', and you said, 'Sure, Dex. By the way, you're so hot and cool.'"

"Oh, yeah." I scoffed, untangling his cherry-red scarf. "That sounds exactly like something I'd say."

But Dex wasn't listening to me anymore. I didn't think he ever had been. His attention was firmly on Noah and, more precisely, on the coveted spot behind him.

"Well," a third person reasoned, his velvety voice drifting over from the back of the car. "That was before we knew that she'd be coming with us."

It was December. It was early, and the wind was brisk and sharp as it hit my cheeks. But when James stepped out from the trunk to greet me with a wink, I felt so warm that I thought I'd melt right onto the road.

He was wearing a light cream sweater that accentuated him in all the places that a body like his should have been accentuated. His golden hair was fluffy and freshly washed, a rogue strand or two practically begging me to reach out and sweep them into place. And those eyes ... those eyes were everything. They were playful when I was, thoughtful and kind when I needed them to be. They were him, and right now, they were plastered on me.

He was striking. He was enchanting. He always had been. But for the first time since I'd met him, I didn't feel guilty for admitting it.

"James is right," Noah declared, rudely—but unintentionally—plucking my attention from James. He moved away from the passenger-side door, making a dramatic sweeping gesture between me and the prized seat. "Madi should ride shotgun."

Dex's victorious smile instantly fell. "What?"

"That was the bet, Dex."

"I don't mind, guys." I shoved my hands in my coat pockets, shrugging. "I'm just grateful for the lift home."

But Noah shook his head, blocking his persistent friend's path with his taller, broader body. "Nonsense, Madi. The sanctity of Wednesday night Scrabble is at stake."

"He's right," James agreed, though with slightly less sincerity and far more amusement. "We can't start breaking rules now. Where does it end? Society needs rules, Watson. It needs structure."

I tilted my head playfully, letting my hair brush against my shoulder. "You would know." To the others, I joked, "Did you know he's studying law?"

"Good god." Dex gave a sweeping bow. "A true scholar in our midsts. Honored we are, sir."

James' grin didn't falter, but I caught a flash of something new in his glimmering eyes as he held my gaze. They seemed to sparkle in the morning low light, bright and blue and eating me up with curiosity. "Then allow me to strike the motion to have you dislodged. You're riding shotgun."

A smile of my own was twisting my defiant lips, but I didn't feel the need to hide it from him. I didn't feel an urge to turn away.

No, turning from him was the last thing on my mind.

"Go get your things," he directed, nodding up to our building. "I'll keep the hijackers at bay."

Despite not wanting to turn from him, I quickly did as he asked. He just seemed to have that effect on me.

As I packed my last few things in my black and gold suitcase, I took a final glance around my barren room. There wasn't any way of knowing for sure whether Kara and I would be able to secure it again next year, and I felt an unexpected sense of mourning at the thought of losing it to someone else. That room was my solace when I first arrived at Camden. It was my bunker, my safe space, a place where I could go when I needed to keep the world out. Then, over time, things changed. I changed. The purpose of that room changed. Kara and I studied there together, hosted romcom night with Shay and Aubrey there together, hung out with the guys there before our Friday night sessions at Rocky's together. It went from a place where I was alone and isolated to a place where I'd never felt so connected. Not just with other people, but with a version of myself that felt free.

I wasn't just nervous about leaving that room behind. I was nervous about leaving Camden in general, even if it was just for a few weeks. It was the place where I'd found myself after wandering around for so long in the dark. Where I'd met people that'd accepted me for me, even after they'd seen me at my worst. It was where I'd forged a new identity, not by denying my past, but by fusing who I was with who I wanted to be. I'd become so familiar with my classrooms and peers and teachers, and I was almost afraid to step away from it all. To be forced out of my comfort zone and into the world again. A world where I'd have to put the new me to the test.

But I was excited, too. In fact, I felt like I might be able to actually enjoy the holidays, even without my dad there to help me put the star on the tree. Even without Lola to go to the Christmas Festival with or without Eli to light our bonfire on the beach as he'd done every December before.

Things would never be the same without them. But they could still be good. Life goes on, and there's no shame in trying to enjoy every new chapter. Because I was more than a broken heart, and I was more than the people who'd broken it.

By the time I returned to my friends, most of their things had been packed away in James' car. He swung my suitcase up in his arms with ease, rummaging around in the trunk for some space before plopping it down next to his own.

"Strong, smart, and pretty." I batted my lashes at him, but the sarcasm lacked my usual gusto. "Maybe I'll keep you."

James blinked his surprise away. He did that a lot lately, now that I felt comfortable and safe enough to joke around with him. Because obviously I was joking. We were just friends. That was the deal we'd made.

A deal that I was totally, completely fine with.

With his composure rethreaded, James, as always, didn't miss a beat. "You think I'm pretty?"

I slapped his arm gently, laughing. And tried not to focus on the muscles shifting beneath his skin. God, he was—

Friends.

I straightened, retracting my hand, and aimed for the passenger-side door. Friends, friends, friends ...

"Are you ready?" Noah asked, reaching out to squeeze my hand. He must have recognized the sentimental look pulling at my features, his face mirroring it with a bittersweet expression of his own. Like me, Noah had gone through a lot these past few months. Like me, he knew the strength that it took to piece your heart back together after it had shattered.

I squeezed his hand back. "Ready when you are."

He broke away, clearing my path to the car door. I took a few steps before giving in to the urge to turn around again, squinting up at the grand building cloaked in ivy for a final time. How different it looked now from the first time I'd seen it. How similar it felt to home.

I reached for the handle before turning back around. But the object I grazed didn't feel like cool metal at all. It was warm. It was soft. And, unlike metal, it responded to my touch.

James.

James had reached for the handle at the same time as I had.

James' fingertips had brushed against mine.

James was peering back at me, equally as startled as I was, his guarded gaze twinkling like crystals in the morning sun.

Not just friends. Not at all.

That second of contact was quick, and it was fleeting. But standing so close, searching each other's face, neither of us could deny that we'd fallen victim to it. That we were anchored to that moment. One of bated breath, of unspoken words, of nerves and possibility.

Eli wasn't there. Lola wasn't there. The pain that I felt after dad left wasn't there.

When I looked at James, it was just him and me. It was just the two of us on an open road, free from the pain of a broken heart.

The story continues ...