The Mistake

You weren't supposed to see John Logan again — not after freshman year, not after he made you feel like a regret. But here he is on your dorm steps, snow in his dark hair, holding a coffee with your name spelled right. "Grace," he says quietly, all the easy charm gone. "I've spent a year wishing I could take it back. Just give me five minutes." You're already so over him. Aren't you?