My Professor's Secret

23|

twenty-three

"It's time," Taylor screeched, bouncing up and down on her tiptoes from behind my ear. She stood hunched over my shoulder awaiting as I mustered the courage to finally submit my completed essay for the writing competition. Surely the essay itself was spotless. I'd spent the last two days cramming in every bit of knowledge and guidance I'd gotten from professor and my mother into it. For once performance anxiety failed to move me. It was the truth looming over me that churned the uneasiness festering in my belly.

The embellishments to my story added an artistic touch, but it didn't attest for the horrors that incident in New York cost my family and I. The apprehensive realization of that felt treacherous. It was something we all suffered through, not just me. Exposing my scars was one thing, but displaying my family's hardships to judges whose only intent was to reduce this story to a letter grade was another. Our story meant more than a vote of approval from some Scholastic program. That's what prompted the hesitancy—nothing more.

"Send it!" She continues from behind me. Even though her face remained unseen by me, the excitement metastasized through the words that slipped from her mouth through a smile. "I want to be the first one to congratulate you the second they read it and realize they've encompassed a star." I shift my focus over my shoulder towards Taylor. She'd been flashing the cheesiest grin before skipping towards the mini fridge. Despite my teetering on the edge of an anxiety attack, Taylor's mood hadn't gone unnoticed. This was the first time since Shaylynn left that she seemed genuinely happy or interested in anything more than Tony's company.

Even though it remained unspoken after our initial conversation about Lynn leaving, it was obvious she still held onto some animosity in regards to Lynn confiding in me instead of her. For days I questioned myself on whether bringing it up to her was a good idea, but instead, I figured all she needed was enough time to come to terms with her absence on her own. Thankfully, it felt as if I'd been finally getting her back.

As the laptop screen caught my attention again, I thought about all the determination Professor Thornton had in me to even consider recommending me for this program. Though doubt managed to creep in occasionally, it didn't take away the fact that my work was well deserving of recognition.

I had my mom to thank for that.

In a way, the difficulty submitting my work lied with her as well. If I failed, I'd be failing her and that was something I couldn't bare. But not doing it would be an even bigger failure. She'd want me to do it even if. One, because if she were still here, she'd lather me in a speech about how trying and failing was better than not trying at all and forever wondering. Also, because then we'd know where I went wrong and what steps we needed to take to fix them. I choked down one final swallow, but the lack of moisture pushed a painful gust of air down my windpipe instead. Still, I hit submit.

"It's done," I say, releasing the breath of air compressing my chest. "According to this, I'll know in a week." The rules and regulations list stretched a mile long and I skim past it. Avoiding it was probably the best option right now anyways. All it would do is cause me to second guess myself into withdrawing from the competition. I shut the screen on my laptop and finally allow my spine stability against the chair.

"Great," she smiles, offering a bottle of water. "And since it's officially out into the world, I'd like to read it. In the meantime, we need something that'll keep your focus away from the competition which leads me to my next proposition. Remember the list?" she questions. But I didn't so I shook my head. "The one you told me about from awhile back? You and your friend Armani came up with it?"