Bring Down the Stars

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Connor said, frowning at the mess on my uniform. “Why you gotta be an asshole, Kingsley?”

“Don’t you look handsome?”

I ducked from under her hand and scowled. “I look like I’ve been sorted into Gryffindor.”

It’s too late,” I said.

“Is it? You’re sitting right in front of me, flesh and bone, pumping blood and breathing life. That doesn’t look like too late to me.”

You know my friend Gilly?”

owing not to make a touchy-feely fool of myself again, I offered my hand. “Nice to see you.”

followed her gaze and found Weston in his white and purple Amherst gear, warming up with his teammates. The opponents from Tufts, Wesleyan, and Williams were scattered in their own groups farther away.
The Am

She’s into Connor.
This was no longer debatable. A fact as black and white as ink on paper.

Autumn laughed and plucked a sprout off my plate. She tucked it in the corner of her mouth like a wheat stalk, and I had a sudden, desperate wish to see her on her farm; this wildflower that dressed in expensive-looking dresses, but who wore scuffed shoes and carried a bag that had probably been new ten years ago.

“You’re quite the wingman, aren’t you?”

I mean, he’d like to get to know you better.”