The Nightingale was surprisingly quiet when Christine entered. She could see a few people scattered across the rooms, but their hushed conversations were hardly the dull roar of chatter that usually greeted her when she came to the café for an afternoon of studying. She paused to leave her jacket at an empty table out of habit, even though there was really no need to claim one given how many were unoccupied, before heading over to the counter to order.

There was only one person behind the counter today instead of the usual small staff of students—an older Middle Eastern man she'd often seen around the place but had never seen at the register. She'd assumed he was the manager, perhaps even the owner. He looked around middle age and normally wore a stoic expression as he observed the activity in the café from a distance, but he gave her a kind smile now as she approached the counter. She returned the smile and placed her order before stepping back from the counter and watching as he prepared her drink.

"It's quiet in here this afternoon," she commented.

"I'm not complaining—I'm understaffed today," the man replied amiably.

"I guess it works out, then."

"It should be nice for studying. It gets so loud in here sometimes I don't know how you all can focus."

"Yeah, this is perfect," Christine said. "Just a little background noise but not enough to be distracting. Exactly what I need right now."

"Busy?"

She laughed a little. "Very."

A second later the man reached across the counter to hand her the drink. "Good luck with your studying," he told her, and she thanked him and returned to her table.

Pulling out a stack of notes and her laptop, she set to work, doing her best to focus all her attention on the task at hand. The essay she'd been assigned was daunting, made even more so by the stack of notes she had piled next to her laptop to reference as she wrote, and her work schedule didn't allow her much time to work on it before the due date. She needed to do as much as she could today, and she had a mountain of other tasks to get to if she had enough time left. The week wasn't even half over and she was already feeling worn down. But she had promised herself a relaxing evening if she made good progress on this essay, and the goal was enough to motivate her for now. She was so wrapped up writing that she almost didn't notice when Meg sat down across from her a few minutes later.

"Hey," she said, glancing up.

"I think we had the same idea," Meg laughed. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Christine pretended to debate for a moment. "I guess that's okay."

Meg rolled her eyes, arranging her own things on the table. "What are you working on today?"

"Theory paper. You?"

"Studying for an astronomy exam. Turns out there's a lot of math involved. I just wanted to learn about space."

"I told you that you should have taken zoology instead," Christine said, and Meg heaved a dramatic sigh.

"I should have listened to you. I also shouldn't have waited so long to fill my science requirement."

"You'll get through it."

"Hopefully," Meg said doubtfully, and Christine smiled a little, returning her attention to her paper.

She hadn't met Meg until halfway through their junior year of high school. Christine was new to the school that semester. They had been taking the same beginning piano class and had quickly bonded over their love of music. Even in the early days of their friendship, Meg had felt like more of a sister than a friend—the relationship had immediately felt easy and comfortable, like they had known each other their whole lives. Christine had never felt like she'd even lived in one place long enough to develop more than a superficial friendship, but the closeness she felt with Meg had been instant.

It had been late in the summer before senior year when Christine's father had been diagnosed with cancer, and though the outlook had been grim from the start, the few months that followed had been harder than anyone had expected. It had been both painfully long and agonizingly brief, and it would have been impossible to get through if Meg and her mother hadn't been there. They were there through all of it, helping her and her father however they could.

Meg had stayed by her side and held her hand through the entire funeral.

Christine had been unable to imagine being away from the Girys after they took her in, and so when both she and Meg were accepted into a university that was only two hours from home, the decision to go had been an easy one. The two of them had shared a dorm room their first year, staying up too late talking about boys in the adjacent hall and commiserating through bouts of homesickness. It had never crossed either of their minds to consider living with anyone else when it was time to make housing arrangements for their second year, and they had happily inhabited their little apartment since.

They spent the rest of the afternoon ensconced at their table at the Nightingale, only leaving when Christine closed her laptop with a sigh, saying that she couldn't think of a single word more to write. Meg was happy enough to take a break from studying, so they packed up and piled into Meg's car. They had just arrived back at the apartment when Christine's phone rang.

"Hey," she answered when she saw Raoul's name appear on the screen.

"Hey," he replied. "How was you day?"

"It was fine. Pretty normal. How was yours?"

"Good. Listen, do you want to go out tonight?"

Christine hesitated, thinking of the hot shower and sweatpants she'd been looking forward to. "Tonight? I don't know."

"Okay, well, what about tomorrow night?" Raoul asked.

"I could do tomorrow night. Wait," Christine continued quickly. "No, I can't. I traded for an evening shift at the dining hall. Are you free the night after?"

"I have a networking thing then. C'mon, let's just go out tonight," Raoul insisted. "Just dinner, and maybe we can swing by a little get-together that a friend of mine is having. It'll be fun."

"Raoul—"

"I'm not taking no for an answer, Christine."

"Alright," she relented after a moment. "I literally just walked in the door, though. Give me half an hour?"

"Sure. I'll pick you up then."

"See you then." Christine hung up and caught Meg watching her. "What?"

"Nothing," Meg replied. "You just don't seem too excited, that's all."

"I'm excited to spend time with Raoul," Christine said. "I'm just not really in the mood to go out tonight." Meg nodded but made no comment, and Christine crossed her arms. "I know you're thinking something. Just tell me what it is."

"I think," Meg said carefully, "that it was a little rude of him to pressure you into going out when you didn't want to."

"He didn't pressure me. He wanted to go out, and since it'll be a few days before we can see each other again, I decided to go."

Meg shrugged. "Alright. Enjoy your date."

Christine turned with a small sigh and disappeared into her bedroom to get ready for the evening. Meg's tendency to pry was not something that she found wholly bothersome—she knew that Meg was just looking out for her. Meg had always been more outspoken than she was, and Christine knew she sometimes felt the need to intercede on her behalf. Right after her father died, Meg had become her protector. And she was grateful for that. There had been plenty of times when she'd needed Meg to push her a little. As often happened, after a few minutes of reflection, Christine had to admit that Meg had a point. Maybe she did need to speak up for her own interests a little more.

But it was silly to be hesitant about this, wasn't it? She should be excited to have the chance to spend some time with Raoul. She was excited. They had seen each other often since their first date a couple of weeks before, and the new relationship had been going well. Raoul was sweet and attentive. It felt so easy and familiar to be with the sunny boy from her childhood. There was something about him that lit up the room around him—something about his easy self-assurance and charm that put everyone around him just as much at ease as he was. He was affable and acted as though he was friends with everyone he spoke with, and it was so natural to like him that Christine imagined even a complete stranger might, for a moment, become convinced that they were friends. How could she not look forward to spending time with him? She just needed to muster a little more energy, that was all. Her quiet night in could wait; the alternative was much better.

Raoul arrived to pick her up half an hour later on the dot, giving her a quick kiss and tugging playfully at her hands. "Let's go before I starve to death," he grinned, and Christine laughed and let him lead her out to his car. "You look nice, by the way."

"Thank you," she said, pausing for a second to wait for him to climb into the car. "And sorry about my schedule. This course load is a lot rougher than I expected it to be, and scheduling at the dining hall can be pretty inconsistent, so I kind of have to take shifts whenever I can get them."

"That's okay," Raoul replied. "And hey, at least you don't have law school applications looming over you. Things could be worse."

"Yeah, I guess they could be."

The drive to the restaurant was short but quiet, and Christine hummed along to the radio absent-mindedly as she watched the town roll by them. When she glanced over and caught Raoul smiling at her, a blush rose to her cheeks, but he only chuckled a little before returning his attention to the road.

The restaurant was just starting to get busy when they arrived, and it was a few minutes before they could be seated. The dull noise of the conversations around them in the small waiting area was just loud enough that they would have to raise their voices to be heard and was occasionally amplified by cheers and groans for whatever game was being shown on the TVs above the bar. It was enough to discourage conversation beyond a few words here and there, and it was only a little better once they were seated.

"So how has your week been going?" Raoul asked after they had settled into their seats. "It seems like you have a lot on your plate right now."

"Yeah, this semester is going get pretty hectic," Christine said with a small laugh. "It's already getting there, really. But I feel like I've found a decent routine, and things are going well. At least I mostly like my classes."

"You could always cut back on something if it gets to be too much," Raoul suggested, but she smiled and shook her head.

"A couple of the credits I need are only offered this semester, and of course they're also prerequisites for classes I need to take next year. And if I take fewer shifts at the dining hall, I won't be able to afford food. Ironically."

"What about your voice lessons, then?" he said. "That's, what, and hour every morning? Maybe you could wait and pick them up again next semester."

Christine took a sip of her water, putting off answering for a second. Raoul was only trying to help, and of course it was a reasonable suggestion—and something that had crossed her mind—but she had quickly decided that it was out of the question. It hadn't even been three weeks since the lessons had started, and even though she had expected to improve greatly under Erik's instruction, her progress had surpassed even her most optimistic expectations. And it wasn't just technical the improvement. The progress she was making excited her. She woke up in the mornings feeling energized and eager for that day's lesson; she was pouring more and more of herself into her practice, and her voice was beginning to show it. There was no way she could give up the lessons now, not after seeing the difference they could make.

"I can't drop the lessons," she said gently. "They're too important, especially since I'm thinking I want to stay in the music program. But it's fine. Like I said, I'm getting into a routine. I can manage just fine. I think I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment, you know? It's easy when you're tired and hungry."

"Then it's a good thing we're at a restaurant," Raoul laughed half-heartedly before adding, with some hesitation, "I'm just a little concerned about how we're going to manage to see each other. Our schedules are already starting to clash, and things are only going to get busier for both of us."

Christine smiled sympathetically, reaching across the table to take his hand. She was about to speak when a particularly loud cheer erupted around them, and just as it faded their waitress appeared to take their orders. When she left again, Christine laughed a little.

"I'm not sure this is quite the right place for a conversation like this," she said lightly. "I understand, Raoul. I worry about that too. But we can manage. We'll just need to learn to work around it. We'll be deliberate about setting aside time for us, even if that just means that we study together or something. The semester will be over before we know it, then, and we can hope that next semester will be a little less crazy."

"Yeah," Raoul said, not sounding wholly convinced. "It'll be fine."

The meal was pleasant enough—Christine was certainly happy to see Raoul, especially knowing that he would soon be completely buried under practice tests and application essays, and she did try to rally herself to enjoy the evening more—but she was worn out and couldn't quite muster the energy she wanted. She tried to protest when Raoul suggested they check out the party that a friend of a friend was throwing for some occasion that wasn't particularly clear to her, but he was so enthusiastic about it that he hardly seemed to hear her weak objection. She gave in rather easily, deciding she'd rather not risk turning this into an argument or hurting his feelings, especially when he'd just expressed that he was worried about them not having enough time together. And so she found herself climbing back into Raoul's car, listening to him explain who would be there and which law schools everyone was applying to and how his family knew their families.

The party was in full swing when they entered, finding it bigger and rowdier than either of them had expected. Christine caught Raoul's gaze and he shrugged, apparently not particularly surprised or dissuaded. He led her across the spacious loft apartment to get them each a beer, pausing several times along the way to talk to someone. She smiled and chatted politely each time Raoul introduced her, but the night was wearing away at her by the minute. By the time they had crossed the room, they must have spoken to at least half the people there, including a drawn out conversation about the specifics of a law program that Christine had been unable to follow from the start.

"This place is great, isn't it?" Raoul asked once there was a break in the stream of conversations, needing to raise his voice to be heard over the music and chatter.

Christine nodded, halfheartedly sipping her lukewarm beer. "Yeah, it is."

Raoul frowned. "Is something wrong? You don't seem very enthusiastic."

She hesitated. "I… I'm not," she sighed. "I'm sorry, Raoul, I'm just exhausted and not really up to a night out like this."

Raoul's face fell a little. "Let's talk somewhere quieter," he suggested, taking her arm gently and guiding her out onto a small patio. "Are you sure there's not something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she said. "It's just what I told you: I'm tired and not feeling like a night out."

"You could have told me earlier, Christine."

She shrugged helplessly. "I tried, Raoul, but you were so insistent and excited and I didn't want to disappoint you. And I wanted to spend time with you, especially since things are getting so busy and it might be hard to see much of each other for a little while."

Raoul sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So, what, even after all that talk about how we just have to set aside time for each other, you still don't want to be here?"

"Raoul, don't be angry," Christine said softly.

"I'm not—" he snapped, stopping for a moment before continuing more gently. "I'm not angry. I'm just a little frustrated."

Christine looked down, saying nothing. They stood for a long moment before Raoul spoke again.

"Come on," he said gently, though the disappointment was clear in his voice. "I'll take you home."

The car ride back to the apartment felt longer than it actually was. Christine knew that it was only a small argument—if even that—but she could still feel some tension between them and it left her uneasy. From time to time she would glance at Raoul, trying to read glimpses of his expression as they passed under streetlights, but his face was impassive, his gaze remaining stoically on the road ahead of them. When they finally pulled up in front of the apartment building, she turned to him with an apologetic smile.

"I really am sorry about tonight," she told him. "We can still hang out, though. Why don't you come in for a while? We can watch a movie or something."

"That's okay," Raoul said, his tone not displeased but not entirely convincing. "I shouldn't have pushed you into going out in the first place. Go relax. We can talk in the morning."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "It's just one night," he said. "It's not a big deal."

"Okay." She leaned over to give him a quick kiss before opening her door and starting to climb out, pausing briefly and turning back to him. "Talk to you tomorrow."

He gave her a small smile. "Talk to you tomorrow."

With that Christine closed the car door and heading into the building, pausing to wave to Raoul before she went inside. The reflection of the streetlights glared off the windows and she couldn't see if he waved back.