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picnic tables were bordered by a tall wood fence strung with party lights. A cover band was set up in front of a barn-like façade that formed the patio's back wall. At the front of the patio, the deck was built around a huge tree bordered on all sides by wood benches that provided extra seating. Tonight every seat was full.
    Erin was squeezed onto the end of a bench next to a girl named Melody, who worked with Ben at Texas Children's Medical Center. Melody had bulgy blue eyes and straw blonde hair cropped in a sleek bob that swung like linen curtains on either side of her face as she talked. She was engaged to Ryan, a sullen-looking, bulky guy who was as quiet as she was animated. He sat on her right and sipped at a Black & Tan. Opposite the two of them were Ben and his new roommate, Nate, who also worked at the hospital—Nate, Ben, and Melody all worked in genetics research.
    All Erin knew about Ben's work was that it was very specialized and had something to do with the Human Genome Project. When he tried to describe it to her or anyone else, his use of phrases like "biomedical genomics" and "molecular mechanisms" and "microbial pathogenesis" quickly made listeners' eyes glaze over.
    Across from Erin, Nate kept jumping up every few seconds to emphasize the story he was telling, something to do with a presentation at work. She'd stopped listening to him about two beers ago—his beers, not hers. She'd been here thirty minutes and felt like she'd missed the party; she had the uncomfortable clarity that came with being sober in a drunken crowd. Sometimes she liked that feeling. Tonight, not so much.
    When Nate left for the men's room, she reached across the table and poked Ben's arm, trying again to extract from him the reason his date had ended so early. All he'd told her so far was that the woman had left right after they'd finished eating, before the server even brought the bill.
    "So finish your story. Why'd Cynthia—was that her name—get up and leave? What'd you say to her?"
    "Lydia," he corrected. "I didn't say anything." He paused. "Thanks for that, by the way. Anyway, when I picked her up, she'd been crying. I didn't ask…whatever. Then all night she was texting somebody. I was glad she left."
    "Bitch," Nate muttered. Both Erin and Melody gave him dirty looks. "Whaat?" he said, lifting his hands, palms up. "Just callin' it like I see it."
    "Well, either way, you're better off," Melody said. "Sounds like she's involved with somebody else."
    "Or she's a nutcase," Nate said, and lifted his hands again as Melody glared at him.
    Ben drained his beer. "Whatever." He turned to Erin. "So what brought you out tonight? I thought you were working."
    "I was. It was depressing me."
    "So you thought you'd come hang out with other losers who don't have dates on a Saturday night?"
    "Hey," said Nate and Melody simultaneously.
    "I have a date," Melody said and kicked Ryan under the table. He had his chin in one hand and was staring in the direction of the band. He looked like he was a centimeter away from passing out on the beer-drizzled tabletop.
    "No, I thought I'd come see if you really want to go to Paris with me."
    Melody's eyebrows shot up.
    "If I really want to go?" Ben's eyebrows furrowed.
    Erin's eyes were fixed on the unruly curl on his forehead. She just wanted to reach up and… She shook her head and gave him a bright smile. "Yeah. When I told you I wanted to buy a plane ticket and get out of here, you said, 'Maybe I'll come with you.' Don't try to back out of it now."
    He took a deep breath. "Hold up now, just hold up. When are you going? I don't have vacation time for another"—he paused, ticking time off on his fingers—"two and a half months."
    Erin slumped a little on her bench. Ben had lived the student life so long she'd gotten used to his sporadic schedule and general freedom. She hadn't thought about the fact that now that he worked a 9 to 5, his schedule lacked the flexibility of hers—her summer schedule,