It was 6:24 am in Exeter, New Hampshire in late May, the semester had one week left and I was free from all of the worry and struggle. I put on my new trail running shoes that I’d purchased from the Exeter Sports Store and walked out to a new dawn. It was still pitch black and 40 degrees. I cinched the windbreaker tight around my head, walking across campus to the cross-country trails I’d discovered only a few days ago.

I was free. I was done. I had no more cares in the world. For a bit, anyway.

I flashed back on Thalia and Amanda. The two kisses. Even Amy, the Texan, aloof and distant and gorgeous, she had no need of me. I had grown. Broken. Continued. Grown again. And finally gotten my just desserts. I was booted and would be going home early. The crisis was over. Everyone was notified. The worst was over. The rest of my life was beginning today. My mom was coming in a rental car to grab me and all my shit.

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