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backpack off.”
    We fumbled with it. I pulled out the water bottle, which fortunately hadn’t leaked. He reached his hand up to my face.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Stop.”
    I settled down next to him. We leaned against the fallen tree trunk, breathed, held hands.
    “Not as romantic as you’d hoped, huh?”
    “What? I wasn’t–” I sputtered.
    “Come on. You wanted to find a private place to make out. It’s okay. So did I.”
    I leaned over, kissed his cheek, wiped away a smudge of dirt.
    “Look, I should be the one apologizing.”
    “For your cranky mood?” I asked.
    “Yeah. I got this letter the other day, from Pinecrest Academy, all formal and full of pomposity. They want me to come back for some alumni honor bullshit event at this year’s graduation ceremony.” He rearranged his legs into a crossed position, pushed himself up to lean more comfortably against the tree trunk.
    “And you don’t want to go?”
    “Hell, no.”
    “Are you embarrassed about…”
    “About what? Being Mister Crip?”
    “No, about being here, with me.”
    “No, sweetie. I want to tell the world. It’s just that explaining Temple means explaining why I came here and…they have expectations for alumni.”
    I understood, and wondered if he had made the right decision. While I was so happy to be with him, wake up with him, spend each day together, I sensed his disappointment. He had already placed higher in French and seemed bored by our shared American Lit course, having already read half the reading list when he was at Pinecrest. It was like my high school experience. I’d usually read several chapters ahead of most other schoolmates. My enthusiasm for learning was rare, even joked about, until I’d learned to hide my enthusiasm, except toward my teachers. What if his sacrifice had been a mistake?
    “They just want to show me off,” Everett shook his head. “It’s just a big guilt trip for them, to make an example of me, what an ‘inspiration’ I am.”
    “You inspire me.”
    “But you don’t need to present me with a plaque or a useless trophy.”
    “I could present something,” I leered.
    “Yeah, well, don’t unzip unless you brought some bug spray.” He swatted more gnats.

 
    Chapter 4
    April 1980
     
    A chilly spring breeze seemed to blow up from the ground, whooshing iridescent leaf buds around my feet. I felt underdressed while rushing back from a late class.
    Everett had a physical therapy appointment that afternoon at Magee Rehabilitation downtown. He insisted on getting there and back on his own, so I wanted to at least be back at our dorm before him. Sometimes he would be a bit exhausted from the stretches and rigors of the exercises they put him through. I think he liked the drive, and he said that he enjoyed hanging out with those he called “my fellow crips.” He told me sometimes he headed out early, just to prove to himself that he could navigate the city streets.
    Still, I wanted to make sure things would be ready for him back at our dorm, little things I wasn’t even sure he noticed anymore; making sure he had something to drink and snack on, that the sheets were clean in case he was tired or amorous.
    The cool wind should have served as a sort of warning, one of unexpected change. At the time, it just reminded me that it might be too soon to put away my winter coat.
    So when he arrived, a bit disheveled, a slight scowl on his face, I thought it was mere exhaustion from a long day. I was wrong.
    “ Sansevieria trifasciata .”
    I sighed, not really feeling up for our little Latin game at that moment.
    “Um, snake plant; it’s in the order Asparagacae, those spiky ones with the yellow strips.”
    “ Sansevieria trifasciata ,” he repeated, then translated, “Mother-in-Law’s Tongue.”
    I nodded, distracted by getting my backpack unloaded. I didn’t understand his reference.
    “My mother called,” Everett said.
    “When?”
    “Earlier today.”
    “How is she?”
    “Fine, and