The Multitudes Within Me (Sequel to The Sound of Ice)

10

We get our pop quizzes back in chemistry.

D. My heart constricts - I stuff the thick packet, slashed with red pen ink, deep within my backpack.

"How'd you do?" asks Eliza, flipping through her own work. "Ah, fucking stereochemistry. I knew I got those questions wrong. Shit." She glances up at me - I notice she's wearing sparkly eyeshadow and lip gloss, courtesy of Marly. "Oh, well. Just a quiz."

"Yeah," I say. "Just a quiz."

After class, we split ways. I run to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, stuffing my hands in Cameron's sweatshirt pockets so no one notices they're shaking.

I sit on a bench beside the bathrooms and look over the quiz, trying to keep my breathing steady. I trace my finger over a scar of red ink, bleeding through the paper, blotting out my scribbled equations. This is more than a sting. I feel like I've just been punched in the stomach.

After I glance the quiz over and try and get my shit together, I head to Dr. Howard's office on the third floor. The door is already open, and the thick scent of coffee and freshly printed paper nearly knocks me out.

I stand awkwardly in the doorway, my hands in my pockets. "Dr. Howard?"

Dr. Howard looks up from her desk, a red pen in her hand. Her face is sharp and emotionless, and her hair is pulled back in a tight bun. She sets down her pen and crosses her hands. "Yes?" I can't help but notice the diplomas and awards that line her walls - on the bookshelf, there are multiple copies of her book. God, she's brilliant. And terrifying.

"I was just - I just - the quiz -" I clear my throat, panic bubbling in my throat. Maybe I'm not used to teachers disliking me. "The quizzes we got back in chemistry today -"

"You didn't do well?"

"No, I got - I got a D."

"Well, you're not the only one, I can assure you. Tell me your name again?"

"Hughes. Sam Hughes."

"Mr. Hughes, can I be frank with you?"

My breath hitches. "Yes."

She nods at the room, motioning for me to step forward and out of the doorway, and I do, slowly, hesitantly.

"Chemistry is not the subject for everyone," she says. "And this course is definitely not the course for everyone. After the first semester, about a quarter of the students either drop out or fail my class. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Now, I'm not saying you're destined to fail. The exam is still a few weeks away - there's plenty of time to study. Maybe get a tutor, an alumni of the class. Starting next week, I'll also begin offering a help class early Saturday mornings, which I highly recommend you to attend."

"Okay. I will."

She tilts her head, glancing me up and down. I always thought she was older, if based just on her accomplishments - but seeing her up close, she can't be much older than fifty. There's a picture frame on her desk - her and her husband, standing at the beach, the wind blowing her hair around, a huge smile on her face.

"And, Mr. Hughes... what is it you want to do?"

"I want to work at NASA."

She smiles softly. "You answered fast. I'm wary of students who answer fast. You're a freshman?"

"Yes."

"Listen, because I'll only say this once. Students walk into university thinking they know what they want. Teenagers, by nature, especially the ones I see in my course, are determined to fulfill the goals they've set for themselves prior to walking in my classroom. But they quickly are reminded of what failure is, what heartbreak is, what passion is, what happiness is - their goals change. Suddenly, the goals they've previously set for themselves aren't even applicable anymore. It's not unnatural. It's healthy, even. Mr. Hughes, are you passionate about chemistry?"

I don't know. "Yes?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

A question. "A statement."

"Then, Mr. Hughes, there is nothing holding you back from succeeding in my course. It is a difficult class, and I am unapologetic. I am very aware that I am shaping the next generation of scientists - it is why I do what I do. But if you were to realize that you don't care for chemistry - perhaps this field just isn't for you like you thought it was - well, it's not my job to regulate the material you like or dislike. I don't care whether you fail or succeed. If your passions change, the college center is just a few buildings away. Don't confine yourself to the goals you made when you were younger, Mr. Hughes. And if you do love chemistry, then work harder."

My hands are shaking so hard in my sweatshirt pockets, she must be able to tell. "Okay," I say, the words stuck in my throat. "Thank you."

She nods at me, and that's my cue to leave.

Instead of going back to my dorm, I walk around the campus. It's cold - dry leaves crunch under my sneakers, and pale, grey clouds drift above brick buildings. I pull my hood over my head and stare at my feet, letting the chill settle into my bones.

I end up at a lonely wooden bench on the other end of campus. It's not that busy - a few students walk by, wearing puffy winter coats and colorful backpacks. I breathe in the smoky scent of the wind, the taste of cold air before it begins to snow.

The thing is, I don't know if I like chemistry. And I don't know if it's the subject for me. But Mrs. Howard is wrong about one thing - I can't just drop out of the class, or switch courses. I left everyone I love to be here. And everyone is expecting me to succeed.

I watch as a leaf whirls through the breeze. My phone buzzes, and I glance down - a text from Mrs. Beckett - Operation went well. xx

Thank god. Thank god. Thank god. I sigh with relief as my phone buzzes again.

Hey Sam, this is Marly. You free rn? Want to grab lunch?

I stare at the text message for a minute.

Sure, I'm free.

A/N alright, 10 chapters in! yay! first off, let me know if you guys got a notification for this chapter? i guess there were some wattpad troubles for the last update. second, thoughts on dr. howard? on marly?