Epilogue
THE WHEELS SQUEAK AS I tug my rolling cart across the brick-lined path, scanning the enormous campus like a wide-eyed first year.
There are more trees here than I’ve ever seen in my life—maple, birch, oak.
No wonder Evelyn transferred to Cain; I bet the trees reminded her of Emory.
It must be a vision in fall: burnt ambers, oranges, and reds blanketing the campus like a warm hug.
I can’t wait. A wave of blustery January air wraps around me, and I tighten my scarf. Definitely not in LA anymore.
Alex came home for Christmas, just like he promised, and the day after New Year’s, we flew back to Atlanta.
Together. But he wasn’t the only one who came home for the holidays—Charlie did, too.
And this time, he brought Michelle. We’re slowly mending our relationship; so are he and Alex.
We’re even planning a trip to Chicago this summer.
I glance at the digital map on my phone.
Although I’ve studied it nonstop the past few weeks, it’s nothing like being here in person.
Making the connection between a gray square labeled Rollins School of Public Health and coming face-to-face with the breathtaking architecture with floor-to-ceiling windows will definitely take some getting used to.
My phone pings, and a notification takes over the screen.
Mom: Good luck on your first day. I know you’ll do great.
Despite the frigid air, a surge of warmth tingles inside me.
She remembered.
Since Sextival, we’ve become closer than ever before. It’s ironic that a sex-themed event was the catalyst that brought us together. Well, that and Barbara McEntire. Thanks to my students, she went viral. There are more remixes of her falling in the paint than I can keep track of.
I double tap the message, reacting with a heart.
June: Thanks, Mom.
Just as I send the text, another comes through. This one from Gram.
A photo begins loading. Maybe it’s an I love you sticker or a good luck affirmation.
Nope.
It’s a monkey showcasing his ginormous balls.
Thanks, Gram. Exactly what I want to see on my way to my new office.
Gram: Oops, sorry dear. That was meant for Joe.
Now the image is even more haunting.
June: It’s okay, Gram.
As leery as I was to leave her, she’s thriving. We FaceTime every Sunday, and she gives me all the hot goss from Golden Sun. She even told me she’s trying to set up Joe’s grandson with Alex’s replacement from the health department. Poor guy. He has no idea what he’s in for.
Gram: How’s the new campus?
I bite my lip, taking in the pristine buildings, the picturesque trees. Only one word comes to mind.
June: It’s perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
While I’m staring at my phone, my cart catches in a divot. I yank the handle, but it doesn’t budge.
Great.
I pocket my cell and squat down, trying to free the wheel. But I push a little too hard, and the cart tips.
“No!” I yelp, springing up. The last thing I need is to spill dildos all over the quad on my first day. But it’s too late. The bin wobbles, plummeting over the side. I grit my teeth and brace for impact.
Right before it hits the bricks, a pair of gloved hands catches it.
“Need a hand?” Alex asks, setting the container back onto the cart. His hazel eyes sparkle in the bits of sunlight peeking through the clouds.
“What are you doing here?” I gasp. He didn’t say anything when I left our apartment this morning. I lunge forward, throwing my arms around his neck.
He shrugs, his hands snaking around my waist. “It’s my girlfriend’s first day, thought I’d surprise her and show her around.”
With a contented sigh, I press my lips to his. He kisses me back, but only for a moment. Then he takes my hand in one of his, the handle of the cart in the other.
Students bustle around us, but Alex easily navigates the hilly path. We stroll along the lane, and he points out a towering building curved like an arc. “They just expanded their school of public health. All the architecture is state-of-the-art.”
I grin. No wonder Evelyn was eager to come back. Well, that and her grandbaby.
Alex leads me to a quiet brick courtyard and parks my cart next to a stone bench. As lively as the rest of the campus has been, it’s just the two of us here. “I want to show you my favorite spot,” he says. “You can see downtown Atlanta from here.”
He brings me to the lookout railing, then circles my waist from behind and rests his chin on my shoulder. He points out some of Atlanta’s most iconic buildings—the Georgia-Pacific Center, the Bank of America Plaza, the 191 Peachtree Tower.
After a few minutes, he says, “I got you something,” and guides me to the center of the brick circle. I look around, but there’s nothing here. Then he squats in front of me and taps the red clay.
Chiseled in the center brick is an inscription:
June Wells, PhD, MPH
Distinguished Faculty, Rollins School of Public Health
Ultimate Badass
The gesture takes my breath away.
“Alex,” I squeal, tears brimming in my eyes. “You did this for me?”
He grins, rising back up and tugging me into a hug. “Soon, everyone’s going to know what a badass you are.” He tilts back, smoothing the hair from my face. “Not from this brick, but because you’re going to leave your own mark on this campus.”
My heart flutters, and I pull him in for a deep kiss. Delicately, he winds his fingers through my hair, and I melt in his arms.
After a few moments, he says, “Ready to see your new office, Dr. Wells?”
A swarm of butterflies takes flight in my chest and I nod. “Do you remember what Dr. Padilla said when she paired us up?”
His grin spreads instantly. “That we were going to make magic.”
I look deeply into his adoring eyes and see my entire future in them. “Let’s get to it.”