by Nella Tyler
I hurried down to the ground floor of the building and then made my way across campus to the library, buzzing with the success of my first attempt to make things right between Nicole and me. I was maybe three minutes early for the group meeting, and I looked around the library while I waited; a few people were using the computers to access different database articles for free, a few others were searching the stacks for a particular book, but on a weekend the library was almost totally deserted.
A little closer to finals week, it would be packed at all hours of the day and night, and there were already sign-up sheets up on the walls at the entrance for people who wanted “late night study” passes, which would give them access to the library until three in the morning, long after the staff had gone for the night.
I put my name down and one by one, the other three members of my group showed up. Kim, Jamie, and Manu were people I’d worked with before in other classes; when the group project had come up in Advanced Financial Concepts, I’d grabbed them as my partners as quickly as I could—I didn’t want to be stuck with a group that would just argue about the assignment half the time and spend the other half of the time doing the wrong shit, leaving me to put something together out of nothing at the last minute.
“Manu, you got the study room, right? Let’s go ahead and check in.”
We settled into the little office that Manu had reserved, and started to look over the assignment sheet, taking a minute to remind ourselves of the instructions.
“Okay, so the way I see it,” Kim said, once we all had taken our time to get clear, “there are four basic parts to this, which is good—four parts, for teammates. So who wants to do which part?”
We started talking over the different sections of the project—which of us was better suited to which part, which of us had the most time to devote to the more labor-intensive parts, and how we were going to bring it all together at the end into the finished project.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I ignored it for a moment, focusing on the project. If it was Nicole, I was sure she’d understand; if it was anyone else, I didn’t really need to respond right away. Whoever didn’t know I was in a meeting with a group from class would just have to deal with whatever they wanted from me for a while longer.
As we wrapped up the first phase of planning the project, my phone buzzed two more times in my pocket and I started to feel a little concerned. Kim called a break and she and Jamie went outside to smoke a cigarette while Manu started looking through the textbook for his portion of the project work.
I took my phone out of my pocket and unlocked my screen. I had been expecting a text from Nicole, or maybe Alex, on the outside maybe my parents. Instead I saw that Kelsey had texted me three times. I took a quick, deep breath, already dreading whatever it was she had to say to me after the debacle of the night before. I opened the messages and started to read.
Thank you so, so much for making sure I got home safe last night, Ty! That much at least was normal and was actually almost a little nice to get from her. I was a little surprised you didn’t want to come up after we connected at Ibiza—but if you want to take things slow, that’s fine with me. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at Kelsey’s assumption.
She actually thought that me taking her to her apartment was some kind of sign that I wanted to get back together with her; either she was still drunk from the night before or she was delusional. Shoot me a text when you want to meet up! Maybe we could get dinner tonight?
I stared at my phone for a long moment, trying to wrap my head around the fact that my ex-girlfriend really, truly thought that she and I were going to be getting back together based solely on me making sure she got home from the club okay when she was disgustingly drunk.
I shook my head and put my phone back in my pocket; I wasn’t ready to deal with her yet. I wasn’t ready for all of the grief that would come from explaining to her yet again that we were not going to get back together, that it was over and was going to continue to be over for the rest of our lives.
I made a mental note that I should probably tackle that particular task before I saw Nicole again, so that I could get the messages off of my phone. It wasn’t that I didn’t think Nicole trusted me, but after seeing Kelsey plaster herself on me the night before, I didn’t think Nicole would be all that charitable about an ex-girlfriend who was convinced we were getting back together.
I also didn’t think that she was going to take kindly to the idea of me driving Kelsey home, even if it was just in the interests of making sure that she didn’t drive her car into a canal or get picked up by some dude interested in raping a drunk girl. I didn’t want to have anything to do with Kelsey anymore, but I couldn’t bring myself to let her put herself in danger right in front of me.
I felt a little guilty, knowing I hadn’t been completely straightforward or honest about Kelsey—I hadn’t admitted to driving her home. But I told myself that Nicole had already accepted that Kelsey was just an ex, and making things more complicated at this point was just stupid. I’d let sleeping dogs lie, and I’d get on with my life and the semester.
I would just have to find a way to get rid of Kelsey for good without her making a big, enormous scene and involving all of our old mutual friends. Good luck with that, I told my optimistic brain. Kim and Jamie came back in from outside and I pushed any thoughts at all of my ex-girlfriend out of my brain to focus on our end-of-semester project. Everything else in my life was going great—I shouldn’t worry about my ex.
PART 3
Chapter One
I was walking back to the dorms from class when my phone buzzed in my pocket. At first I thought—I hoped—it was Ty, calling to ask if I wanted to hang out for a little while. He had been busier than ever, and so had I; Finals Week was only days away, and both of us had been spending as much time as possible studying. Instead of Ty or even Ashley though, it was my mom.
I hesitated, seeing her name flashing on the screen; normally I loved talking to Mom or Dad, but I had just gone through an end-of-semester review that had included a sheet listing my cumulative grade and what score I would need on my final to pass the class. The results weren’t pretty. But then I told myself I was being stupid. Mom just wanted to check in on me; I should answer. I tapped accept and brought the phone up to my ear.
“Hey sweetie!” I forced myself to smile in spite of how stressed I felt.
“Hi, Mom. How are you and Dad doing?”
“We’re looking forward to seeing you during winter break—we’ve missed you so much!” I sat down on the first empty bench I came to and set my backpack down.
“I’ll be so happy to come home,” I told Mom. “I think Finals Week might actually kill me.”
“It’s always tough, but I know you can pull through. How are you doing in your classes?” I cringed, torn between telling the truth—and likely worrying my mom half to death—and lying to my own mother.
“I’m keeping my head above water,” I said. “It’s not easy.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Mom told me. “But at the end of it all, you’ll have your degree and you can get a good job, have some real security.” I smiled, feeling terrible for not coming out and telling my mom the truth. I didn’t know if I would actually have a degree—not in four years, at least. I wasn’t even sure that I would make it through the end of my freshman year.
“I’ll keep working,” I told her, trying to keep my voice even and cheerful. “In the meantime, what’s going on with you and Dad? I’ve missed you both so much.” I couldn’t bring myself to say anything more about my classes—I knew that if I kept talking about them, I’d eventually just start crying and tell my mom everything.
“Oh we’re so boring,” Mom said, laughing. “I did run into Dillon’s mom the other day at the grocery store—she said he’s been partying it up and trashing his grades in the process.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling an even deeper lurch in my stomach at the mention of my boyfriend.
“You
broke up with him just in time, Nicki my girl. Just think—if you’d stayed with him, he would probably have you partying it up too, ruining your grades.”
“I’ve met someone a lot better than Dillon,” I said, remembering Ty. But I remembered too the sight of his ex-girlfriend grinding on him at the club. “He’s a senior, and he wants to become an accountant when he graduates.”
“A senior!” Mom’s voice was full of approval. “And an accountant is a pretty solid job to go for.”
“He’s got the CPA exam after he graduates, but he’s been working at his father’s firm during the breaks and stuff.”
“Well that does sound promising! But sweetie, don’t be too serious about him. You’re just a freshman. You should play the field a little bit, especially after such a serious relationship with Dillon.”
“I’m happy,” I told my mom. “And if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. But I like him a lot. He’s really good to me.”
“Well I am happy that you’re happy,” Mom said. “So you are coming home for winter break, right?”
“Oh, definitely,” I told her. “But now I need to go. I’m meeting with some friends for a class project.”
“All right, honey. We’ll talk again soon, and I’ll get more details about you coming home for the holidays once you’ve got some finals behind you.”
“I love you, Mom!”
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
I said goodbye, and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to get the rabbit-quick beating of my heart under control. I hated the fact that I had essentially lied to my mom about my grades. There were a couple of classes—American History and English Literature, along with the basic freshman courses—that I was doing all right in, after struggling all semester.
But in more of my classes I was barely passing. I wasn’t sure if I wouldn’t end up getting academic probation by the time the grades came in; and if that happened, I was going to be screwed for finding classes for next semester. I would have an uphill battle for even finishing the year out, and I still had no idea what I wanted to major in. If I didn’t figure it out by the end of next year, I would possibly be expelled.
“Hey baby, are you okay?” I opened my eyes and looked up to see Ty coming to a stop a few feet away from me. He looked down into my face and I saw the concerned smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Oh yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” I said, taking another quick, deep breath. “I’m just stressed because it turns out I have to get an A on my Psych final just to make a C in the class.” Ty sat down on the bench next to me and wrapped his arm around my waist.
“Well that won’t be too hard,” Ty said, kissing me on the cheek. “And you’re doing okay in History, right? And in English?” I nodded slowly.
“I’m okay in those classes. I just…” I shook my head. “I knew it was going to be stressful, but I guess I didn’t count on it being this stressful.”
“We can do more study sessions if you want,” Ty suggested, giving my waist a squeeze. “Haven’t those been helping you?”
I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder. In spite of my lingering doubts about the situation with his ex-girlfriend, I had to admit that Ty was a great boyfriend. The study sessions we’d done together had helped—but I didn’t think that they’d helped me enough.
“They have,” I said. I pressed a kiss to his neck. “I just don’t know how many study sessions I can realistically cram into my schedule—and you’ve got your own stuff to try and get through.”
“I’m solid in most of my classes,” Ty said. “I’ve got high grades in three or four of my classes, so even if I just get a C on the finals I’m basically still going to do well. I want you to stop having to stress so much, babe.”
“That’s sweet of you,” I told him. I turned his face toward mine and kissed him quickly on the lips. “I’ll definitely think about it. In the meantime, let’s get dinner tonight?”
“Let’s get some takeout, how about that? I’ll order from that Chinese place you like, and we’ll double down on the dumplings.” I giggled, shaking my head even as I continued to smile.
“You’re going to make me fat like this,” I told him, poking Ty in the ribs. “Do you really want a fat girlfriend?”
“You are not going to get fat,” Ty insisted, shaking his head. He kissed me on the forehead, then on each of my cheeks, and then on the lips. “In the meantime, I am going to do everything I can to spoil you rotten. I’m going to miss you so much during break!”
“I’m going to miss you too,” I said, cuddling closer to Ty on the bench. I buried my face against his shoulder and breathed in the smell of his cologne. “Maybe we can spend some time together during break.”
“That would be awesome. And we’ll have our phones, so we can call each other every day.”
“Yes!” I smiled, feeling, for the moment, reassured. I kissed Ty again and made myself stand up. I knew that he was busy, and I also knew that I needed to get more studying under my belt if I was going to have any hope of getting through Finals Week.
“I’ll call you in a couple of hours and come over for dinner, okay?”
“Okay, babe,” Ty said, giving my hand a squeeze. “Look: don’t sweat this too much. Freshman year is always tough.” I nodded, taking a deep breath.
“I am going to go bury myself in the library for a while,” I told Ty.
“Good call,” he said. He brought my hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss onto my palm. “I’ll leave you to it.”
I walked away and tried to keep myself as composed as possible. I felt like I was being ripped into shreds. I kept trying to focus on the fact that I was actually doing well in a couple of my classes, after struggling all semester, but all I could think about was the fact that I was in very real danger of getting a D in Psychology. I might even get an F in Statistics—that was a very, very real worry.
I hadn’t told any of my friends, or my parents, or even Ty how little I was managing to understand the subject. I couldn’t let myself admit to anyone other than myself that I felt completely and totally out of my depth.
I strode across campus with my face forward, my shoulders back. I hoped I wouldn’t run into anyone else that I knew well enough for them to want to talk to me; I just wanted to go to the Library, borrow any open study room, and bury myself in it for an hour at least. I wanted a private space to cry and get the panic out of my system, and figure out what I was going to do to try and eke out a GPA that wouldn’t get me in trouble with the school and my parents alike.
I got to the Library and all but one of the private study rooms were taken. I took the key from the girl at the front desk and hurried to the tiny little room, walking past the people on the computers, the groups talking quietly at the tables, the rest of the people who had taken the other rooms.
I fumbled with the key in the lock but I finally got the door open and stepped through it, remembering to close it quietly behind me at the last moment. I didn’t even bother to turn on the lights at first. I just sank down and began to cry, burying my face against my knees, trembling all over.
I had all but lied to my mom about my grades, and I had all but lied to Ty as well. I had no idea if I was going to even make it through finals, and I didn’t know if I was going to be able to get through the rest of college.
If I can’t even scrape through my first semester, how am I ever going to get to graduation? Even more importantly: what if Dillon had been right about me? What if I was just stupid, and not motivated enough, and there was nothing that I could do with myself?
I shook and cried for what felt like an hour, feeling completely and totally helpless, miserable at the fact that I couldn’t even manage to succeed at being a college freshman.
What kind of woman was I? Why would Ty—successful, smart, driven, and wonderful—want to stick with a girl who could barely keep her GPA up? I started to take a deep breath as my panic finally started to ebb away from me. I woul
d just have to keep going.
Chapter Two
I knew that I should probably be focusing on final exams, but I had been so stressed out by my first practice CPA exam that I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax until I re-took it. Instead of stressing myself out throughout the winter break, I would give myself another shot at the practice test.
Instead of keeping it secret the way I had the first time, I told Alex, and I told my Dad. I was too proud to admit to him that I’d taken a practice exam and gotten a low-average score on it; instead, I told him that I was going to take the practice test for the first time just before finals, so that I could have a good idea of where to focus through spring semester until graduation and the real thing.
Dad had been excited to hear that I was taking a practice test, and had emailed me a few resources—study guides, strategy guides, and test breakdowns—that I hadn’t managed to find on my own, which helped me to start to feel a little more confident in myself.
I sat in my room, alternating between watching TV and going over one of my exam prep books. I was going to take the test the very next day—the day before Reading Day, and only two days before final exams—and I wanted to both be as prepared as possible, and relaxed at the same time.
I heard my phone ringing from across the room where I’d plugged it in, and set my book aside to hurry and get it. I knew that Nicki was studying with some of the other kids in her American History class, so it wasn’t likely to be her; the name that flashed on the screen was Dad. I grinned and picked it up.
“Hey, Dad! I’m guessing you remembered I have the practice test tomorrow.” My dad laughed on the other end of the line.
