It’s only a partial lie. Bainbridge University is one of the top colleges in the country, an elite institution, focusing on literature and history. It’s hard to get in—unless you can pay to play—but easy to get kicked out. For someone like me, who gained entrance with perfect test scores and a scholarship, not family monetary gifts, it’s even easier for them to punt you out of the hallowed gates. The university’s board is notorious for its strict standards, which is probably why my skyrocketing anxiety has me doubting my sanity.
“You’ll be fine,” Simon assures me, squeezing my hand, as if the confidence in his blue eyes can transfer from his palm into my body. “You worry too much.”
Will I be fine? It’s not just the impending paper that has me out of sorts. It’s everything. Once I graduate with a bachelor’s degree in the fall, what’s next? Like, what happens after college?
The breeze swirls around us, taking my desire to confess my troubles with it. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
Good girl. Listen to your boyfriend.
“Shut up,” I snip, before I can prevent the words from tumbling past my lips.
Simon stops beneath a streetlamp, its pale light illuminating the amusement on his chiseled face. “What?”
“Sorry.” I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I was telling myself to shut up and not word vomit this fear in my gut.”
Tsk. Tsk. Lying to your boyfriend?
I grind my teeth together so I can’t argue with the snarky voice. I mean… I guess you can call Simon my boyfriend, even though we’ve not officially labeled our relationship. We’ve gone on a few dates, but most times, it feels more like a friendship than anything else. I think he feels the same way about me, because he isn’t into the physical aspect of our relationship… other than holding hands. He’s obsessed with my hands. It’s comforting, if not a little strange.
“You can word vomit on me,” he says.
“Another time. I'm too tired tonight.”
“Tomorrow then.” He tucks a stray strand of blonde hair behind my ear and accepts my excuse with no pushback.
We resume the trek to my building, and I already know tomorrow won’t bring a confession from me. He’d never understand why I’m teetering on the brink of madness. Simon is a history major too, but unlike me, already has his life mapped out. He wants to be a professor. And he’ll make an excellent one—genius, patient, and rocks an expensive sweater like no other.
That’s another thing contributing to this unwanted spiral into the pits of psychosis. His wealthy family isn’t keen on his career choice, or so he says, but they're very involved in his life. Most times, I think how nice it must be to have someone involved in your future. My parents are the polar opposite.
Sure, they provided everything I wanted, but they didn’t care if I was happy or not. There’s more to parenting than what you can buy in a store. I think the last time my mother hugged me, I was five years old. She had just returned from a jaunt in Paris, or maybe Greece, and she wrapped her arms around my little body and said she had missed me. Well, the trips after that became more frequent and longer, and she missed me less and less.
My father, well, he was always busy trying to please my mother, and I never could help him in that category.
“It’s a full moon,” Simon says, as we approach my dorm.
I look up at the dark sky. “Careful, there might be werewolves lurking.” I laugh a little.
He smiles and hikes my bag further up his shoulder. “They don’t exist.”
“Vampires don’t either.”
Simon and I have debated many times whether vampires ever existed. He believes the hype.
He gives a chin nod toward the sprawling dormitory. “Better head inside before I drop more facts on you.”
“Thanks for coming to get me. Sorry to keep you up this late.”
He gives me a quick peck on my lips and says goodnight. We part ways, and I rush into the dorm building, heading straight up to my room, bypassing Veronica’s. It’s too late to return the key. Roni’s been my best friend since I started here four years ago, so she’ll understand. My hands tingle as I hurry down the hallway, numbness creeping into my knuckles. A carpal tunnel side effect from studying too much. I shake them out and head into my room, turning on the light so I can unpack my things.
Bone-tired, I push the yellow comforter to the side and climb into bed. My eyes slide shut.
“About time, Allison,” the voice says as sleep pulls me under.
“The men of ancient times were more forceful than today’s man, and felt they had power over women,” my monotone professor drones on as I force my eyes to stay open.
Studying until nearly dawn was not a good idea. This morning, I had a tough time waking and would have slept straight through class if my alarm clock wasn’t blaring in my ear.
“Miss Lane, am I boring you?”