Page 80 of Lessons in Love

When I wake up and reach out to grab my phone to check the time, I wasn’t expecting a text from my university. To add to that, I wasn’t expecting a text from my university with my results in it. My fingers shake as I reach out and click on it, my eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden glow of the screen. It takes a second to load, and then…

87.

91.

88.

92.

The numbers flash before my eyes before I can process which one belongs to which subject.

And then I do.

My hand flies to my mouth, barely covering the sob that escapes.

87. Me. 87. For a subject I failed last time.

I did it. I passed. With flying colours.

I lean back into my pillow, letting out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding. Greg’s next to me, and I swear he’s smiling.

This is it. What I’ve been working towards. The last hurdle. Done. An invisible weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I want to skip through the fucking fields.

I type out a quick message to Gemma and before I realise what I’m doing my fingers are hovering over Oliver’s contact, our last messages dancing under my fingertips. A wave of memories come crashing over me and my stomach flips.

I want to tell him. I do. Even after everything I know he would still be proud of me.

I told myself that if I passed I would talk to him.

But I don’t.

I can’t.

Not yet.

Instead, I roll out of bed, leaving my phone behind. It’s easier that way. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.

When I enter the kitchen, everyone is sitting around the table, all the kids in varying stages of ‘ready for school.’ Mum’s busy making lunches, Dad is hunting down school bags. Rachel’s eating her breakfast calmly while the twins are arguing over who gets to sit where. But it’s Jake who sees me first. He opens his mouth to question me but I beat him to it.

“I passed.”

The whole kitchen seems to vibrate with excitement. Everyone cheers, even Rachel who’s not quite sure what’s going on. Mum hugs me so tight that breathing is hard, but it can’t wipe the smile off of my face. I did it. Everything will be okay.

“We will have to go out for dinner to celebrate, possum,” Dad says, rubbing my back. “Jake can bring Kiara too. It’ll be a nice family get together. And if you want to ask—”

“No.” I respond too quickly as his name hangs in the air. Forcing a weak smile, I clear my throat, pushing my glasses back up my nose. “No, thank you. Dinner just as a family sounds good. And Kiara,” I add for my brother’s sake.

No one says anything about him, but when my parents glance at Jake with a raised eyebrow I can tell what they’re thinking. They want to know what happened. Let’s hope the little snitch can keep his mouth shut. Doubt that, knowing his history.

The day comes and goes quickly when you spend the whole time trying to drown out your thoughts. My phone sits on my desk next to me, burning a hole through the wood. Oliver is right there, just a phone call away.

I can’t seem to get my fingers to work to press the button.

I try my hardest to focus on the results from my research project, but my eyes don’t want to concentrate. Or my mind. I draft an email to my supervisor with my preliminary contributions before everyone comes home, and even that has a degree of difficulty that I’ve never dealt with before. Is this what most people feel like all the time? To actually be distracted by something?

If so, I want a refund.

The kids return from school and my parents from work, bring light and energy back into the house. When the time for dinner comes, Mum piles the kids and Jake into the minivan, leaving me to ride with Dad. It’s a comfortable silence as we drive to the Chinese restaurant in town. I try to ignore Mrs Williams’ fence as we pass, hearing the teasing lilt to Oliver’s words the last time we were here.