Chapter Thirty: Just Today?

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dedicated to ariana senrqse for the covers above and below. thank you so much <33

Chapter Thirty: "Just Today?"

Aven: I have a home game at 5, are you able to come?

He sent the message at 8 in the morning. I saw it at 12 PM and have yet to respond. The text message was just another reminder that I haven't entirely wrapped my head around what had happened last night. That wasn't a bad thing. None of this was a bad thing.

All I knew was that 5 PM was closing in and although I was already on campus, I was on an entirely different mission. Undecided at the moment, I didn't answer, flicking through my phone as I trekked to Dr. McCormick's office that early evening on Thursday.

My thumbs went to the playlist, my playlist, familiar music ringing in my Airpods as I looked at the songs he had chosen. Since the first time I had gone through, my lips always twitched at the randomness of the music as I continued to go through the seemingly endless list. I passed through various genres, the many genres I listened to, made him listen to, songs I didn't know, songs I had listened to from his own playlist and--

"He added songs after last night," I murmured.

There wasn't much talk afterwards when we rejoined our friends and watched the rest of the concert. I wasn't going to break the blissful haze by speaking and he didn't either. But that didn't stop the two of us from glancing at each other from time to time as the concert had gone on. 

I had breezed into my quiet house, passing by the bedroom doors of my roommates, and laid on my back on my bed. My mind felt weighed down by my thoughts and my body was frustrated but heightened by the memory of his hands, his lips and the feeling of his body flushed against my own.

The recall was so vivid and imprinted, I swallowed in the present my top teeth digging into my bottom lip as last night replayed over and over again. Again. I had suggested to stop, to return to our friends and he didn't agree. He said again.

This had to happen again. 

Someone cleared their throat behind me, and I jumped, realizing I was standing by the doorway, blocking the entrance into the building. Giving the person an apologetic smile, I swiftly made my way towards Professor McCormick's office where a line of students was already standing outside. 

My eyes went wide. They all couldn't possibly be here to see her.

When I asked the person ahead of me, I mentally cursed.

They were all here to see her.

I sat down against the wall behind the last person who was talking to a group of people in front of them. I didn't join their conversation or wonder what they were speaking about. Instead, I went through the list of questions I had to ask her, complied in surprisingly a neat set of notes that I had gone over before I left the house, along with my midterm on my laptop that turned into a tablet on the grading application.

The more I read over the numbers and variables I had gone over, the more my eyebrows furrowed. I was going to add stress lines to my forehead by how long I had studied the document while sitting in that hallway.

How the hell did I write the exam?

Mistake after mistake left me dumbfounded as I realized where I went wrong. How overconfident I was to not properly check again when the answer was right there. When I was using my stylus to write notes in a sidebar column, someone cleared their throat for the second time in my vicinity.

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