We're getting married!

We met at one of those classic freshman‑year “let’s all pretend this isn’t awkward” welcome parties. Lucy was doing the normal, well‑adjusted thing—chatting with a group of new friends—when suddenly she heard someone behind her screaming about a spontaneous trip to the beach. That someone was Will. Shockingly, being idealistic 18-year-olds with no car, the beach trip did not happen. Instead we got boba. The beach had to wait until the end of freshman year, after we were an official couple and marginally better at planning things.