Eli sees her, considers walking by on the other side, but crosses over and sits. A bronze statue of a student reading a book occupies the end of the bench beside Margaret; she looks up.

“Hello.” She is uncertain.

“How have you been?” he says.

“I’ve thought about you. I miss seeing you, but I’m good,” she says.

They look at the Fall for a moment and say nothing. “I haven’t felt right about things, you know,” he adds.

Margaret gives a crooked smile. “No need. We talked about it. Are you seeing anyone?”

He shakes his head. “You?” he asks.

She shrugs. “I wouldn’t say seeing anyone. I’ve been out a few times.”

He glances at her. “I heard about Remy Meyer.”

She shows the crooked smile again. “Remy? He asked, I had no reason to say no.”

He studies a gust of wind stripping a tree of dead leaves and doesn’t look at her. “How did you know?” he asks.

She feels cold in the stiff breeze. She watches the students hurrying through the mall and considers his question. “I didn’t at first. I didn’t know what it was. Most guys look; they can’t seem to help it, but you, you look for someone.”

Eli says nothing and studies her profile. The mall empties with the dropping temperature, and she is cold. “Take my jacket,” he offers, but she declines. He looks at the mall again with the dark clouds and the skittering fall colors. “Look, I’m …”

“Please don’t apologize again,” she says.

He is silent for a while. “Remy,” he chuckles.

“Remy,” she agrees, slings the backpack to her shoulder, and gets up. She says no more and walks on.