Page 77 of Lessons in Love

My university loves to show off their history, so all exams take place in one of the city’s most beautiful buildings, if I do say so myself. I’ve heard Gemma ramble on and on about it many times after a few drinks, architecture one of her other loves. I try to think about her, some inane conversation to keep my mind from slipping into a full-blown panic. It doesn’t work.

Lining up outside I try my hardest to take some deep breaths, but they seem beyond me right now. All that I can feel is this crushing pressure. I’m sure I ignore some of the girls from my class when they wave at me, but they don’t approach me. I think after my dramatic exit from the last class they don’t want to upset me so close to the exam. I don’t blame them. I’m sure we made quite the scene.

I hand over my student ID to one of the supervisors and get shown into the room. Rows and rows of tables stand before me. My hands shake as I pull my laptop out of my bag. Sitting down feels a bit better than standing up, at least. I want to relax so badly.

I’m usually not like this. Exams are usually my forte, where I feel the most in control. When I glance at the clock and realise that there’s ten minutes before the exam starts, I sigh, and my mind wanders to the one place I don’t want it to go. And I can’t pull it back.

Oliver.

For the next ten minutes all I can think about is him. Him when we first met at the café. Him taking care of me after our night out. Him at the farm. At the country show. Laughing as we ran around collecting easter eggs. That kiss we shared at the museum.

I don’t even realise that I’m crying until a tear hits the desk. Wiping it away, I glance around, praying no one saw. But one thing becomes clear in my mind.

If I pass this exam, I’ll talk to him.

If I pass this exam, I’ll tell him how I feel.

And when the alternative is not telling him, I realise this all meant more than just passing.

23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Oliver.

Studying in the library doesn’t feel the same without her. Scratch that. Nothing feels the same without her.

Everything seems so empty. I miss the way her fingers would absentmindedly trace circles on my thigh when I tried to explain her complex ideas. I’m sure it was a way to distract me from teaching, and it worked. Making out like teenagers in the library wasn’t my proudest moment, but when my skin burns for her? What was I meant to do?

I twirl a pen between my fingers as I stare unseeing at the journal article in front of me. Feminist standpoint epistemology can be interesting, but right now? Right now, my thoughts are crammed with the image of her face as she told me to go. Her red eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. And it was all my fault.

I groan, sliding deeper into the chair, tugging my hoodie over my head and eyes. The darkness feels safe, warm. I haven’t been sleeping well, so I’m not surprised when I start drifting off. What I am surprised by is when someone clears their throat. When I glance up, I resist the urge to roll my eyes, crossing my arms across my chest.

“I was waiting for Ben.”

“Ben can’t help you now.” Gemma slides into the chair opposite me, seemingly unaware of the dark state of my mood.

“What did you do to him?”

She shrugs. “Nothing that he won’t recover from.” Gemma steals a piece of cut fruit that I’ve been snacking on before continuing. “You two need to sort your shit out,” she says in between crunches of an apple, pointing her finger at me. “I’m sick of hearing Eden whine all the time. I’ve never seen her like this before. She likes you. She just needs to pull her head out of her ass and tell you what was going on.”

“I think it’s pretty clear what was going on. She wanted a good mark. I gave her that. She doesn’t need me anymore. End of story.” The pen in my hands cracks loudly, reminding me to loosen my grip on it. Just a bit. “Look, I actually have work to do. Is there anything else you need me for?”

Gemma slams her hand on the table, causing some looks to be thrown our way. “Yes, goddammit! Fix whatever happened between you and Eden and give me my friend back.”

“Don’t you think I want to?” I hiss, anger bubbling up within me. “She was the one who sent me away! I’m simply respecting her wishes.”

“She has a lot on her plate. She didn’t mean to say that.”

“But what if she did? What if she meant everything she said to me?” A beat of silence passes between us. I sigh, suddenly feeling wearier than before. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened, but she’s not blameless in this situation. If she wants to talk to me she can. But I am not running after her again. Not after what happened last time.”

That seems to shut Gemma up. She nods once, twice. “Okay,” she says, standing. Her mouth opens once, then closes.

“What?”

“The presentation wasn’t the only reason why she was stressed. Her Honours coordinator stopped her beforehand and told her she missed a scholarship application deadline. She can’t stay here without one of those.” And just like that she’s gone.

I know how much that scholarship means to her. How important it is to her to remain here and prove herself. That returning back to her small town without her dreams accomplished would crush something inside of her. If I had any part in her missing it…Well, she’d be furious. I rest my head into my hands and groan. When did this all get so complicated?