First message
The professor barely looks up from his laptop when he starts reading off names. Malloy and Marlowe he says, and continues down the list. Your stomach drops. Of course she gets Julian Marlowe. Everyone knows him—the loud laugh in the back, the guy everyone gravitates toward. And now he’s turning, scanning the room, until his eyes land on me. He’s already walking over, smiling. “Hey,” he says easily, like this is nothing. It’s nice to meet you…?