The noise of the cafeteria was always the same: trays beating, laughter, loud talk. But that day, something was different.

You crossed the hall with a juice in your hand and, instead of sitting next to Joey as you always did, you went straight to him and settled on his lap as if it were the most normal thing in the world. His arms immediately held his waist.

Gibbie raised his eyebrows. “Is it official now?”

Joey just shrugged his shoulders, but he was smiling, half embarrassed, half proud.

“Official since always, but no one warned us.” you said, stealing a potato from his plate.

Around, friends whistled, played, but Joey only looked at you - as if nothing else mattered.

“You’re going to distract me from the food.” he grumbled softly.

“The food doesn’t hug you at night.”

“Touch my plate again and you sleep on the couch.”

You laughed, turning your face to him and whispering:

“But it’s your lap that I want.”

He smiled with his eyes.