Martha positioned herself by the fountain a full twenty minutes before class time. From there she had the best view of the way Jonathan always came. She stood there twisting her hands nervously together, checking her watch every thirty seconds.

But after waiting almost ten minutes, she still gave a start when she saw him walking slowly up the sidewalk, his eyes on the ground, appearing lost in thought.

Now or never. She stepped forward as he approached. "Jonathan."

It was his turn to start as he looked up. "Martha!" He flushed and took an involuntary step back. "I—I'm sorry. I, uh—I didn't see you."

"I have to talk to you," Martha said. He glanced over at the class building. "Now. It won't take long."

Jonathan hesitated, looking as if he wished he'd been late to class for once in his life. "Okay," he finally said, and followed her over to stand closer to the fountain, where they were out of the way of passing traffic. He set down his books on the rim next to hers and turned slowly to face her. "What is it?"

Martha was trembling, but she kept her voice as steady as she could. "Jonathan, what you said the other day—I didn't handle it well at all."

"Martha, it's okay—"

"No, wait a minute. I was unfair to you. You were doing what you thought was right. But you still weren't seeing the big picture. I should have done what you did. I should have spoken up and told you what I thought."

"What . . . ?" Jonathan seemed to be having trouble remembering how to form words.

"You said I could do anything and be anything I want. Would you like to know what I really want?"

Now his faculty of speech seemed to have left for good. All he could do was nod.

Martha looked him squarely in the eyes. "I want to be with you, Jonathan. I want someone as warm and caring and special as you in my life. I think I always have. I think that's why I fell in love with you the first time I met you."

The change that had come over Jonathan's face was like the sun breaking free from a storm cloud. Martha saw it, and it gave her fresh courage. She moved closer and reached for his hand.

"I don't care if you work on a farm or in a—in a salt mine. I want to be there with you."

"Martha—" Jonathan tried to interject. But she was on a roll now and couldn't stop, or just didn't want to stop. It felt so good to finally say all this to him. Her words came out in a rush.

"You were right that you wouldn't give me what I'm used to. You've already given me so much more than that. No one has ever cared for me the way you do—not enough to put me before anything else. That's what matters to me. That's what I want."

"Martha." Jonathan's voice sounded strangely close to laughter—or tears? She wasn't sure which. But there was an odd little smile on his face. "Can I say something?"

Martha's energy and breath had finally run out, and as they did her confidence suddenly took a nosedive. Did I say too much? Was I wrong about how he feels? He's not— laughing at me, is he?

For the first time her gaze wavered and dropped. "What?" she asked, her voice now uncertain.

Jonathan put a hand under her chin and tilted her face up. She saw that his eyes were shining. "I love you, too."

The air went out of Martha, for all the world as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. "Oh. . . ." was all she could manage. As many times as she had imagined him saying those words to her, nothing had prepared her for the sweetness of actually hearing them.

Her own eyes flooded with tears as she stared up at him. He gently caressed her face, and then leaned down as she stood there, still too stunned to move.

It wasn't Martha who started the kiss this time.

----

Carol was toying absently with something in her pocket as she came up the sidewalk. A trash can was standing near the entrance to the courtyard; she looked at it as she passed, slowed in her walk for a second, then looked away.

She raised her eyebrows as a sight she hadn't expected met her glance. A couple was standing by the fountain, clinging to each other and kissing passionately, completely oblivious to the stares and grins of passersby.

Carol stopped suddenly and did a double take. Then she started to grin herself.

"Attagirl," she whispered, with a thumbs-up that made another student walking by look at her in surprise. "Let's hear it for rational thought."

The words reminded her of something that took the grin from her face. She put her hand in her pocket again and stood there irresolutely, biting her lip. Then, drawing a deep breath, she turned and deliberately walked the few steps back to the trash can. She pulled out the wrinkled letter signed "Lionel," looked at it, and found herself hesitating again.

As her own words of a couple of days before echoed in her mind, she set her teeth. All right, Martha, she thought. A deal's a deal. She tore the letter in half and dropped it in, then leaned against the trash can and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes.

After a moment, she opened them and looked back over towards the fountain. The couple was still there. Jonathan had lifted Martha off the ground and was holding her tightly; they were both laughing. Carol stood and watched them for a few seconds. Tears were welling up in her dark eyes, but at the same time, she couldn't help smiling again. It felt pretty nice to be smiling so much in one morning.

With a wink at her unseeing friend, she walked past the two of them and headed for class.

ALMOST the end—but not quite! . . .