Keeley changed out of her uniform, opting for a worn, comfortable pair of jeans and a purple-and-white polka-dotted sweater. She donned her winter gear to combat the chill before heading back to the subway, after texting her dad that she was meeting a friend to celebrate.

Sometimes it felt like she spent more time on the subway than off, but she didn't mind. Keeley was a New Yorker through and through. She loved the city's bustle! Anywhere else would be far too quiet. Even Boston, a large city, hadn't felt the same during her years there. It was comforting knowing she didn't have to leave home this time.

Mom-and-pop pizza joints were a New York staple, something Keeley missed fiercely during college. Celebrating her university transfer by visiting one felt fitting.

She waited about fifteen minutes for her friend, passing the time people-watching. Keeley always wondered about people's stories as they hurried by. Where were they going? What was the rush? Sometimes she even imagined scenarios for them—like the woman in the long red scarf and beret, perhaps an international jewel thief trying to escape to France via the airport.

"Keeley!" Lydia shouted, opening the door with a gust of wind.

"You made it! Let's get a table."

Ten minutes later, they'd ordered pizzas and were toasting with root beer floats.

"To Lydia's glorious escape to the beaches of California!" Keeley giggled, giddy with success. "Not only did she get into a prestigious school, she got a half-tuition scholarship—her parents can't complain about that!"

Lydia, equally caught up in the moment, clinked their glasses so forcefully that foam spilled over.

"To Keeley's future success in the craziest city in the world!"

They gulped down half their floats and grinned at each other.

"So, remind me what you're studying again?"

Lydia stirred her straw. "Sociology. Eventually, I want a master's in public administration to help make life easier for people using welfare programs."

Keeley smiled, thinking of her friend's passionate nature. "You'd be great at that."

Lydia seemed pleased. "You think so? Oh yeah, you're doing something with biology, right?"

"I want a PhD in developmental genetics. Right now, I'm torn between majoring in genetics or biotechnology; they share similar classes, so I might do biotech and minor in genetics."

"Dang girl. That's a lot of science."

"I know, right?" Keeley said happily.

Her younger brother, Kaleb, had been born with cystic fibrosis, spending his short life in and out of doctors' offices. When she learned about Punnett squares and recessive genes in seventh-grade biology—with the teacher using cystic fibrosis as an example—she became fascinated and researched the disease extensively. She wanted to find a cure so Kaleb could have a better life.

Keeley was devastated that he didn't live to see it. Her sweet brother was only ten when he and their mother were shot by a drug addict looking for money on their way home from the hospital. If he hadn't been so sick, they wouldn't have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She existed in a haze of grief for three years before finding herself again. Then, she devoted herself to studying science to prevent diseases like cystic fibrosis.

What began as a personal mission became a true passion. Her love of science saved her from drowning in her loss.

She mentally berated herself for giving all that up for someone so ultimately insignificant. An entire life wasted.

Lydia shook her head indulgently. "I've never met a bigger science geek, so you'll be okay. But we both have a lot of sleepless nights ahead of us. I've heard college is ten times harder than high school."

"I say bring it on," Keeley said confidently. The arrival of the pizza momentarily interrupted their conversation.

Between slices, they speculated about college life.

She'd missed out on much of the college experience chasing Aaron. Whenever she wasn't studying, working, or sleeping, she was with him.

She had no interest in love after it burned her so badly, but at least she could join clubs or participate in campus events. Lydia, without such worries, looked forward to meeting college boys.

"I've heard California boys are hot," she said dreamily.

Keeley laughed. "Where did you hear that?"

"TV."

"Because you can totally trust everything on television," she said dryly.

"How would you know? You've never been interested in boys," Lydia sniffed, before something dawned on her. "You aren't gay, are you?"

"No, I'm not gay. I'm justnot over my first love, I guess."

Her friend's eyes widened, and she leaned forward. "Do tell."

"There's not much to tell," Keeley hedged. She should have known better than to bring it up; Lydia was nosy. There was no way she'd believe the truth.

"It was a long time ago. I was young and naive, following him everywhere until he got used to me. I gave up everything, but he cheated and threw me away. So now I'm focusing on my dreams. I have no desire to be tied down again."

"Guys can be such jerks," Lydia muttered, clenching her fist. "But just because one guy was bad doesn't mean they all are. You're still so young; you'll definitely meet someone better someday!"

Could she really? Keeley didn't love him anymore, but she'd never loved anyone else. All she wanted was to reach her unfulfilled goals.

Maybe once she did, she might meet a man who accepted her and made her heart race. She had her whole life ahead of her—she had no intention of dying again at thirty-one.