It was the first nice day of spring. Though patches of snow still clung to the ground, refusing to melt, the sun beat down strong through the scant breeze, warming the air. I couldn’t be bothered to sit in class on a day like that, so we met at the bus stop on campus with plans to head into DC for the day. When I saw him approach, my good mood dissolved at the black, long-sleeved T-shirt he wore. “Aren’t you hot in that?” I asked.
Nudging his hip against mine, a playful gesture that belayed his haunted eyes, he teased, “If you think I am.”
When I touched his arm, he pulled away. I wanted to grab his elbow, slide up his sleeve, and see what he might be trying to hide. But we weren’t alone—other students waited for the bus, most of them heading into town like us. So I let him distract me w
