“Huh? Yeah. Nah. Well, yeah.”

  Guys are so not articulate, Luna thought to herself. “What’s up?”

  “Laura and I broke up.” He sighed. “It’s okay.”

  Luna sensed it was not okay. “What happened? Unless you don’t want to tell me.”

  “She went back with her ex.” He made a face, pretending it wasn’t a big deal.

  “Well, that stinks,” Luna said kindly, but inside, she was doing cartwheels. Maybe she would get a second bite at that apple.

  “I’ll get over it,” he snickered, but Luna knew he was crushed. This was his second relationship in two years that had gone south. The first one was because the girl moved across the country, and they couldn’t keep up with each other, three thousand miles apart. This breakup was new. Fresh. Maybe it didn’t sting as much.

  “You sure you’re alright?”

  “Me? Yeah. Two for two. At this rate, I’ll have an ex-girlfriend every year,” he joked.

  Luna thought—hoped—she could break that pattern, but a lot had to happen first. She would have to make her feelings known. But not yet. She didn’t want to be the rebound girlfriend.

  * * *

  Luna jumped at the sound of her phone. It was Chris. “Hey, dollface. How was your day?”

  “Good. We have everything under control for tomorrow’s event.”

  “You are a miracle worker. I hope those kids appreciate what you and Ellie are doing for them.” Chris’s voice was calm and kind.

  “I think they are going to be blown away. Lots of the artists are helping decorate. It’s going to be even better than they originally planned.” Luna’s voice was cheerful.

  “Why am I not surprised?” Chris’s smile could be felt over the phone.

  “We seemed to work some magic, although I don’t want to jinx it.” Luna crossed her fingers.

  Chris continued. “Listen, there is something I need to talk to you about this weekend.”

  “Everything alright?” Luna’s voice sounded genuinely concerned.

  “Not exactly. I have a few things I need to figure out.”

  “Care to share?” Luna was even more concerned at this point.

  “Er, not over the phone. I’ll fill you in when I see you.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Luna was not okay, but she didn’t know what else to say to him.

  They said their goodnights, and Luna proceeded to recall her past.

  * * *

  Several weeks before the end of the semester, Luna, Brendan, and ten other students were chosen to spend two weeks at a writer’s workshop in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Both Brendan and Luna were selected as the “adults-on-duty” and were responsible for overseeing the other students. Nothing serious, but making sure the students attended every meal, workshop, and went to bed no later than eleven. Not that there was much to do. There were no televisions, and cell phones were kept under Luna’s supervision. Unless it was an emergency, students were required to be “unplugged.”

  Every night, the group would gather around the fire pit on the patio and talk about their projects, their thoughts about the day’s workshop, and share feedback with one another. One evening, Brendan and Luna were the last two sitting there as the embers began to fade. They were sitting close together. Very close. They were shoulder to shoulder. At one point, Brendan turned Luna toward him and kissed her softly. Then more passionately. The two were intertwined when they heard the sound of a stick breaking several yards away. They disentangled themselves immediately, each apologizing to the other.

  “I guess this isn’t a good idea.” Brendan scooched a few inches away from Luna.

  “You’re probably right,” Luna replied, but her heart disagreed. “We don’t want to be accused of setting a bad example, or any other impropriety.”

  Brendan let out a loud exhale. “Agreed.” He stood and held out his hand to give Luna a boost up from where she was sitting. She knew it was the right thing, but she still didn’t like it. At least he’d showed some interest. That was a big plus.

  She brushed off her pants and turned to him. “Hey, do you think there are any stores open right now?”

  “Why? You need something?” Brendan checked his watch. “It’s eight thirty.”

  “You know how everyone was kinda groaning about how long this retreat has been? Yeah, it was fun in the beginning, but I think everyone is ready to go home.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Brendan had no idea where the conversation was going.

  “Yellow ribbons.” Luna giggled.

  “Yellow ribbons?” Brendan asked; then Luna reminded him of their significance. He rubbed his hands together in a conspiratorial way. “Let’s get moving. There’s a big box store a few miles from here.”

  They bought as many yards of yellow ribbon as they could find in the greeting-card section of the store. When they got back to the retreat, they agreed to meet around midnight to be sure everyone was asleep. They then made their way around the ten mini-cabins, adorning the doors with the symbol of solidarity and hostage release. They could barely contain themselves as they snuck from one cabin to the next. Brendan whispered, “We’re probably the only ones who know what this means.”

  “Who cares? This is fun!” Luna squeaked.

  The following morning, most of the students got the joke and took the ribbons home as souvenirs. Overall, the retreat was a successful exercise in discipline, fellowship, and collaboration. Romance? Not so much.

  Luna and Brendan continued their usual friendly interaction, with Luna hoping it would develop further after the retreat. Once they got back to their regular classes on campus, things seemed normal between the two of them, particularly their close physical proximity when they were together. It was as if they were in a world of their own, allowing others to be spectators as they entertained each other with jokes, both private and public.

  The first Saturday in May was a big day for horse racing: the Kentucky Derby at Churchill Downs. It was the start of the battle for the Triple Crown. Luna had always dreamed of going, but getting tickets was impossible, until Brendan told her he had an in with one of the stable hands. It was impossible to find a vacancy at a hotel or motel within thirty miles, so they decided to pack a tent, sleeping bags, and the other items necessary for a night under the stars—and on the ground. Luna was wild with delight. She and Brendan were going camping and to the Derby. What could be better?

  The trip from Durham to Louisville was at least an eight-hour drive, so they left Friday afternoon and arrived at dusk at the campground, where hundreds of other racetrack lovers had already settled in. It was like Woodstock, but with less LSD and music and better constructed bathroom facilities. One step up from Porta-Potties. The overall mood was lively and a little rambunctious, with people sharing stories, food, beer, and an assortment of other alcoholic libations. Luna was careful not to over-imbibe. Waking up in a bag on the ground with a hangover was not an option. Neither was privacy. So much for romance, she thought, but Luna was satisfied she and Brendan were together. She hoped there would be a second attempt at kissing, but it didn’t happen. Luna figured it was because you could practically touch the people in the adjacent tent. She let it slide. Some other time.

  The morning of the race, they were up at the crack of dawn. They had to be at the stables by seven o’clock if they had any chance of gaining entry to the famous racetrack. Brendan phoned his friend, who told him where to park and that he’d give them passes for general admission to the clubhouse. Everything was still closed to the public, and security personnel were all over the grounds. The big race didn’t start until after six o’clock that evening, so the two had to busy themselves for the next eleven hours.

  Luna was caught up in the high energy surrounding the legendary and distinguished venue that hosted one of the most famous thoroughbred races in history. Brendan’s friend gave them a quick tour, pointing out the various sections of the stables and the paddock area. Luna wanted to get up close and personal with the horses, but that was not going to happen. She would only be able to view them from a distance later on.

  She read a little about one of the favorites, Big Brown, who’d been purchased by a man who owned a trucking company in New York. He named the horse Big Brown as a nod to UPS’s logo and nickname. Luna imagined the horse caught her eye from yards away. “He’s going to win,” she whispered to Brendan.

  “Who are you, Dr. Dolittle?” he teased.

  “You’ll see.” Luna gave him her raised-eyebrow look.

  As the day went on, throngs of people began entering the area, the women wearing some of the most absurd-looking hats. When did it get this crazy? Luna wondered. In addition to their chapeaus, many were adorned with tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of diamonds. Make that hundreds of thousands. It was a spectacle of the uber rich and conspicuous consumption.

  The day was as long as the lines as they waited to use a flushable toilet. Even though the facilities at the campground weren’t completely barbaric, they still needed a few decades of modernization. There were more lines for food and drinks, so Luna and Brendan joined two separate queues and designated an area where they would meet after they spent ridiculous amounts of money on hot dogs and soda. It was the Kentucky Derby, after all.

  Brendan made sure he placed their bets early on; otherwise, it would have meant waiting in more lines of hopeful gamblers. There were nine other races before the big one, and they placed bets on all of them, with Luna using her Dr. Dolittle superpowers to pick the winner of each.

  They could barely squeeze through the throng to watch the races in person and had to rely on the closed-circuit TVs to see what was really happening. Whenever one of Luna’s horses came around the final turn and down the homestretch, she would start screaming as if the horse could hear her. At one point, a woman turned to her and asked, “Do we need to call an ambulance?” But Luna didn’t mind the mockery, considering she won a few hundred dollars on a two-dollar bet. Brendan was in shock and awe. Earlier that morning, he’d scanned The Morning Line and the professional picks but lost every time. Luna consoled him with, “I’ll buy dinner.”

  Finally, Steve Buttleman, the bugler for the race, began to play the “Call to the Post” for the fastest two minutes in sports. Luna could barely contain her excitement. She grabbed Brendan’s shirtsleeves and held them in what felt like a death grip. Brendan couldn’t help but laugh at his friend. She was as entertaining as the event itself. As the parade of horses entered the track, over 160,000 spectators sang the state song, “My Old Kentucky Home,” a song riddled with controversy, so she didn’t join in. She knew no one would notice, and frankly didn’t care. At that moment, all she could think about was the race.

  The horses were at the gate. Luna was almost hyperventilating as the bell rang, releasing the thoroughbreds. Big Brown could hardly be seen in the thick pack of horses until they came around the clubhouse turn, when he pulled ahead. Luna’s lungs were on fire. She thought she might wet her pants. Big Brown kept moving faster, gaining on the other horses. The crowd went wild as the horses approached the finish line, with Big Brown winning by five lengths.

  Luna could barely contain herself. You would have thought she held ownership or had placed a chunk of money on the winning horse. But it wasn’t really about the money. It was about the excitement she believed she shared with the beautiful animals doing their best to win. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as Brendan swooped her up and gave her a victorious spin, careful not to knock anyone over. Brendan was smiling from ear to ear. Not because he’d won. It was because Luna’s excitement was contagious. Brendan put his arm around her shoulders and guided her through the sea of spectators. She turned in her ticket and collected her ten-dollar winnings. You would have thought she’d won a million.

  They moved through the swarm slowly until they finally reached an exit. Once they found Brendan’s car, they decided to make the trip back to the university instead of camping another night. They wouldn’t get back until sometime around two a.m., but it beat sleeping on the ground. Besides, Luna’s level of exhilaration was at its peak. It would take hours for her to calm down. They stopped two hours into their journey and found a restaurant that wasn’t part of a fast-food chain.

  The drive back seemed to go quickly as the two babbled on about the weekend, going over every detail of their adventure. When they arrived at Luna’s dorm, Brendan put his arm around her and gave her a big hug and a quick kiss. Too quick for her liking, but it was a kiss, nonetheless.

  As the semester was drawing to a close, she hoped Brendan would make plans for them to get together over the summer. They lived several hours away from each other, but the trip was doable. She waited for him to suggest it, but he didn’t, and they parted with platonic hugs, promising to keep in touch.

  During the summer months, communication between them was sporadic. Brendan’s family was going through a crisis. Actually two. His younger sister was diagnosed with MS, and his father was recovering from a stroke. With Brendan being the oldest of the five children, he took on the responsibility of handling all the important issues while his mother tended to his dad. It wasn’t until the fall that his father had recovered well enough for physical therapy, and his sister found a good doctor at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. But it all took its toll on Brendan. He had one more year of college to go, and the summer had worn him down. He was starting to get depressed. Luna was very concerned and gave him as much support as she could, and as much as he was willing to take. Men can be so dense. That seemed to be one of Luna’s theme songs.

  While the students were signing up for the fall semester classes, a new girl transferred from Minnesota. Her name was Eileen Lovecraft, and she happened to be in one of Luna and Brendan’s classes. Luna shuddered when she first spotted her. It was disconcerting. Was it because she resembled Brendan’s ex, Laura? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, and the feeling made her uncomfortable. Even Eileen’s last name gave Luna the creeps. Lovecraft? Jealous, perhaps? Why? Brendan hadn’t shown an interest in her. At least not yet. Or at least not to Luna’s knowledge. But she couldn’t shake the dread. Something was causing a chasm in their relationship.

  The first two months of the semester, Luna and Brendan continued to study together and always grabbed a bite to eat afterward, but it wasn’t as frequent as it had been in the past. No more concerts. No more movies. She wondered why he hadn’t made another attempt at romance. But she let it go. He’d had a rough summer and probably needed some emotional space.

  The week before Thanksgiving, Brendan told her he was going to the Outer Banks to visit family for the holiday. He seemed excited, and Luna was glad he and his family would be sharing happier times. Then, one afternoon as she was walking to class, she overheard Eileen telling someone she was going to the Outer Banks. Not Minnesota? Where her family was from? It sent a chill up Luna’s spine. Several thoughts ran through her head. Brendan’s family lived in Greensboro, North Carolina. His father was having physical therapy, and his sister was involved in clinical trials. It didn’t sound right to her that they would travel to the Outer Banks, but she didn’t question him. She admitted it was none of her business, but still . . .

  The day before everyone left, Luna and Brendan gave each other big hugs and wished each other a Happy Thanksgiving. But there was something in that hug. Or was it something that wasn’t in that hug?

  The week after Thanksgiving, Brendan’s mood was buoyant, more so than it had been since they’d returned to school. As the two were walking to their class, Luna remarked at the change in his disposition.

  He smiled. “I’m seeing someone.”

  Luna thought he meant a therapist. “Really? For how long?”

  “It’s pretty new, actually.”

  The word new struck her in an odd way. She wanted him to elaborate, but her gut was telling her she really didn’t want to know. He told her anyway.

  “It’s Eileen,” he continued.

  Luna thought she might vomit. Vomit from hearing the truth, and vomit from her failure to recognize it. The worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves. It was difficult for Luna to refrain from spewing her thoughts and feelings. “Do you think it’s because she resembles Laura?”

  He stopped short. “You think so?”

  Men are so dense. The recurring refrain. “Just sayin’.”

  He touched Luna’s arm. Her tension was palpable. “Are you alright?”

  Tears started to well up. “No. I am not alright.” She turned so they were face to face. “I’m in love with you.”

  He blinked several times. “I . . . I had no idea.”

  “Bull.” She turned and walked away as quickly as possible without knocking people over. She took the long way back to her dorm. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, and she gasped, trying to contain her emotions before she got back to her room. But there was no hiding the sheer look of humiliation on her face. She dashed past the reception desk, ran toward the elevator, and pushed the DOOR CLOSE button several times. Thankfully, her roommate hadn’t returned from class, so she had a couple of hours to regroup.

  An hour later, Brendan phoned her. “Luna, listen. I’m really sorry I hurt you.”

  “I’ll get over it.” She struggled to seem cavalier.

  “I want us to still be friends.” He sounded awkward.

  “Maybe. But not right now. I need time to adjust. I gotta go.” She ended the call, folded her arms on her desk, buried her head, and bawled her eyes out again until she fell asleep. She was gutted. Mortified.

  A few hours later, a stabbing pain in her neck woke her up. “Ouch!” It took her a few seconds to gather her wits. When she sat up, she noticed the ink on the paper was smudged with drool and tears. “Wow. I should have seen that coming.”

  Her roommate looked up from the book she was reading. “Seen what coming? You okay? I tried not to wake you.”

  Luna nodded her head. Her bloodshot eyes and her reddened nose told a different story. A story about someone who’d just learned something dreadful. “Just me being an idiot, that’s all.”